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chapter 1 of the blonde lady.the blonde lady by maurice leblanc. being a record of the duel of witsbetween arsãˆne lupin and the english detective by maurice leblanctranslated by alexander teixeira de mattos. first episode :the blonde lady.chapter i number 514, series 23 on the 8th of december last, m. gerbois, professorof mathematics at versailles college, rummaging among the stores at a second-hand dealer's,discovered a small mahogany writing-desk, which took his fancy because of its many drawers. "that's just what i want for suzanne's birthday,"he thought.

m. gerbois' means were limited and, anxiousas he was to please his daughter, he felt it his duty to beat the dealer down. he endedby paying sixty-five francs. as he was writing down his address, a well-groomed and well-dressedyoung man, who had been hunting through the shop in every direction, caught sight of thewriting-desk and asked: "how much for this?" "it's sold," replied the dealer. "oh ... to this gentleman?" m. gerbois bowed and, feeling all the happierthat one of his fellow-men envied him his purchase, left the shop. but he had not takenten steps in the street before the young man

caught him up and, raising his hat, said,very politely: "i beg a thousand pardons, sir ... i am goingto ask you an indiscreet question.... were you looking for this desk rather than anythingelse?" "no. i went to the shop to see if i couldfind a cheap set of scales for my experiments." "therefore, you do not want it very particularly?" "i want it, that's all." "because it's old i suppose?" "because it's useful." "in that case, would you mind exchanging itfor another desk, quite as useful, but in

better condition?" "this one is in good condition and i see nopoint in exchanging it." "still ..." m. gerbois was a man easily irritated andquick to take offense. he replied curtly: "i must ask you to drop the subject, sir." the young man placed himself in front of him. "i don't know how much you paid, sir ... buti offer you double the price." "no, thank you." "three times the price."

"oh, that will do," exclaimed the professor,impatiently. "the desk belongs to me and is not for sale." the young man stared at him with a look thatremained imprinted on m. gerbois' memory, then turned on his heel, without a word, andwalked away. an hour later, the desk was brought to thelittle house on the viroflay road where the professor lived. he called his daughter: "this is for you, suzanne; that is, if youlike it." suzanne was a pretty creature, of a demonstrativetemperament and easily pleased. she threw her arms round her father's neck and kissedhim as rapturously as though he had made her

a present fit for a queen. that evening, assisted by hortense the maid,she carried up the desk to her room, cleaned out the drawers and neatly put away her papers,her stationery, her correspondence, her picture postcards and a few secret souvenirs of hercousin philippe. m. gerbois went to the college at half-pastseven the next morning. at ten o'clock suzanne, according to her daily custom, went to meethim at the exit; and it was a great pleasure to him to see her graceful, smiling figurewaiting on the pavement opposite the gate. they walked home together. "and how do you like the desk?"

"oh, it's lovely! hortense and i have polishedup the brass handles till they shine like gold." "so you're pleased with it?" "i should think so! i don't know how i didwithout it all this time." they walked up the front garden. the professorsaid: "let's go and look at it before lunch." "yes, that's a good idea." she went up the stairs first, but, on reachingthe door of her room, she gave a cry of dismay. "what's the matter?" exclaimed m. gerbois.

he followed her into the room. the writing-deskwas gone. what astonished the police was the wonderfulsimplicity of the means employed. while suzanne was out and the maid making her purchasesfor the day, a ticket-porter, wearing his badge, had stopped his cart before the garden,in sight of the neighbours, and rung the bell twice. the neighbours, not knowing that theservant had left the house, suspected nothing, so that the man was able to effect his objectabsolutely undisturbed. this fact must be noted: not a cupboard hadbeen broken open, not so much as a clock displaced. even suzanne's purse, which she had left onthe marble slab of the desk, was found on the adjacent table, with the gold which itcontained. the object of the theft was clearly

determined, therefore, and this made it themore difficult to understand; for, after all, why should a man run so great a risk to secureso trivial a spoil? the only clue which the professor could supplywas the incident of the day before: "from the first, that young man displayeda keen annoyance at my refusal; and i have a positive impression that he left me undera threat." it was all very vague. the dealer was questioned.he knew neither of the two gentlemen. as for the desk, he had bought it for forty francsat chevreuse, at the sale of a person deceased, and he considered that he had re-sold it ata fair price. a persistent inquiry revealed nothing further.

but m. gerbois remained convinced that hehad suffered an enormous loss. a fortune must have been concealed in some secret drawerand that was why the young man, knowing of the hiding-place, had acted with such decision. "poor father! what should we have done withthe fortune?" suzanne kept saying. "what! why, with that for your dowry, youcould have made the finest match going!" suzanne aimed at no one higher than her cousinphilippe, who had not a penny to bless himself with, and she gave a bitter sigh. and lifein the little house at versailles went on gaily, less carelessly than before, shadowedover as it now was with regret and disappointment. two months elapsed. and suddenly, one afterthe other, came a sequence of the most serious

events, forming a surprising run of alternateluck and misfortune. on the 1st of february, at half-past five,m. gerbois, who had just come home, with an evening paper in his hand, sat down, put onhis spectacles and began to read. the political news was uninteresting. he turned the pageand a paragraph at once caught his eye, headed: "third drawing of the press-association lottery" "first prize, 1,000,000 francs: no. 514, series23." the paper dropped from his hands. the wallsswam before his eyes and his heart stopped beating. number 514, series 23, was the numberof his ticket! he had bought it by accident, to oblige one of his friends, for he did notbelieve in luck; and now he had won!

he took out his memorandum-book, quick! hewas quite right: number 514, series 23, was jotted down on the fly-leaf. but where wasthe ticket? he flew to his study to fetch the box of stationeryin which he had put the precious ticket away; and he stopped short as he entered and staggeredback, with a pain at his heart: the box was not there and—what an awful thing!—hesuddenly realized that the box had not been there for weeks. "suzanne! suzanne!" she had just come in and ran up the stairshurriedly. he stammered, in a choking voice: "suzanne ... the box ... the box of stationery...."

"which one?" "the one i bought at louvre ... on a thursday... it used to stand at the end of the table." "but don't you remember, father?... we putit away together...." "when?" "that evening ... you know, the day before...." "but where?... quick, tell me ... it's morethan i can bear...." "where?... in the writing-desk." "in the desk that was stolen?" "yes."

"in the desk that was stolen!" he repeated the words in a whisper, with asort of terror. then he took her hand, and lower still: "it contained a million, suzanne...." "oh, father, why didn't you tell me?" shemurmured innocently. "a million!" he repeated. "it was the winningnumber in the press lottery." the hugeness of the disaster crushed themand, for a long time, they maintained a silence which they had not the courage to break. atlast suzanne said: "but, father, they will pay you all the same."

"why? on what evidence?" "does it require evidence?" "of course!" "and have you none?" "yes, i have." "well?" "it was in the box." "in the box that has disappeared?" "yes. and the other man will get the money."

"why, that would be outrageous! surely, father,you can stop the payment?" "who knows? who knows? that man must be extraordinarilyclever! he has such wonderful resources.... remember ... think how he got hold of thedesk...." his energy revived; he sprang up and, stampinghis foot on the floor. "no, no, no," he shouted, "he shan't havethat million, he shan't! why should he? after all, sharp as he may be, he can do nothing,either. if he calls for the money, they'll lock him up! ah, we shall see, my friend!" "have you thought of something, father?" "i shall defend our rights to the bitter end,come what may! and we shall succeed!... the

million belongs to me and i mean to have it!" a few minutes later, he dispatched this telegram: "governor,"crã©dit foncier, "rue capucines,"paris. "am owner number 514, series 23; oppose byevery legal method payment to any other person. "gerbois."at almost the same time, the crã©dit foncier received another telegram: "number 514, series 23, is in my possession."arsã¨ne lupin." whenever i sit down to tell one of the numberlessadventures which compose the life of arsã¨ne

lupin, i feel a genuine embarrassment, becauseit is quite clear to me that even the least important of these adventures is known toevery one of my readers. as a matter of fact, there is not a move on the part of "our nationalthief," as he has been happily called, but has been described all over the country, notan exploit but has been studied from every point of view, not an action but has beencommented upon with an abundance of detail generally reserved for stories of heroic deeds. who, for instance, does not know that strangecase of the blonde lady, with the curious episodes which were reported under flaringheadlines as "number 514, series 23!" ... "the murder in the avenue henri-martin!" ... and"the blue diamond!" ... what an excitement

there was about the intervention of holmlockshears, the famous english detective! what an effervescence surrounded the varying fortunesthat marked the struggle between those two great artists! and what a din along the boulevardson the day when the newsboys shouted: "arrest of arsã¨ne lupin!" my excuse is that i can supply something new:i can furnish the key to the puzzle. there is always a certain mystery about these adventures:i can dispel it. i reprint articles that have been read over and over again; i copy outold interviews: but all these things i rearrange and classify and put to the exact test oftruth. my collaborator in this work is arsã¨ne lupin himself, whose kindness to me is inexhaustible.i am also under an occasional obligation to

the unspeakable wilson, the friend and confidantof holmlock shears. my readers will remember the homeric laughterthat greeted the publication of the two telegrams. the name of arsã¨ne lupin alone was a guaranteeof originality, a promise of amusement for the gallery. and the gallery, in this case,was the whole world. an inquiry was immediately set on foot bythe crã©dit foncier and it was ascertained that number 514, series 23, had been soldby the versailles branch of the crã©dit lyonnais to major bressy of the artillery. now themajor had died of a fall from his horse; and it appeared that he told his brother officers,some time before his death, that he had been obliged to part with his ticket to a friend.

"that friend was myself," declared m. gerbois. "prove it," objected the governor of the crã©ditfoncier. "prove it? that's quite easy. twenty peoplewill tell you that i kept up constant relations with the major and that we used to meet atthe cafã© on the place d'armes. it was there that, one day, to oblige him in a moment offinancial embarrassment, i took his ticket off him and gave him twenty francs for it." "have you any witnesses to the transaction?" "no." "then upon what do you base your claim?"

"upon the letter which he wrote me on thesubject." "what letter?" "a letter pinned to the ticket." "produce it." "but it was in the stolen writing-desk!" "find it." the letter was communicated to the press byarsã¨ne lupin. a paragraph inserted in the ã‰cho de france—which has the honour ofbeing his official organ and in which he seems to be one of the principal shareholders—announcedthat he was placing in the hands of maã®tre

detinan, his counsel, the letter which majorbressy had written to him, lupin, personally. there was a burst of delight: arsã¨ne lupinwas represented by counsel! arsã¨ne lupin, respecting established customs, had appointeda member of the bar to act for him! the reporters rushed to interview maã®tredetinan, an influential radical deputy, a man endowed with the highest integrity anda mind of uncommon shrewdness, which was, at the same time, somewhat skeptical and givento paradox. maã®tre detinan was exceedingly sorry to saythat he had never had the pleasure of meeting arsã¨ne lupin, but he had, in point of fact,received his instructions, was greatly flattered at being selected, keenly alive to the honourshown him and determined to defend his client's

rights to the utmost. he opened his briefand without hesitation showed the major's letter. it proved the sale of the ticket,but did not mention the purchaser's name. it began, "my dear friend," simply. "'my dear friend' means me," added arsã¨nelupin, in a note enclosing the major's letter. "and the best proof is that i have the letter." the bevy of reporters at once flew off tom. gerbois, who could do nothing but repeat: "'my dear friend' is no one but myself. arsã¨nelupin stole the major's letter with the lottery-ticket." "tell him to prove it," was lupin's rejoinderto the journalists. "but he stole the desk!" exclaimed m. gerboisin front of the same journalists.

"tell him to prove it!" retorted lupin onceagain. and a delightful entertainment was providedfor the public by this duel between the two owners of number 514, series 23, by the constantcoming and going of the journalists and by the coolness of arsã¨ne lupin as opposed tothe frenzy of poor m. gerbois. unhappy man! the press was full of his lamentations!he confessed the full extent of his misfortunes in a touchingly ingenuous way: "it's suzanne's dowry, gentlemen, that thevillain has stolen!... for myself, personally, i don't care; but for suzanne! just think,a million! ten hundred thousand francs! ah, i always said the desk contained a treasure!"

he was told in vain that his adversary, whentaking away the desk, knew nothing of the existence of the lottery-ticket and that,in any case, no one could have foreseen that this particular ticket would win the firstprize. all he did was to moan: "don't talk to me; of course he knew!... ifnot, why should he have taken the trouble to steal that wretched desk?" "for unknown reasons, but certainly not toget hold of a scrap of paper which, at that time, was worth the modest sum of twenty francs." "the sum of a million! he knew it.... he knowseverything!... ah, you don't know the sort of a man he is, the ruffian!... he hasn'tdefrauded you of a million, you see!..."

this talk could have gone on a long time yet.but, twelve days later, m. gerbois received a letter from arsã¨ne lupin, marked "privateand confidential," which worried him not a little: dear sir "the gallery is amusing itself at our expense.do you not think that the time has come to be serious? i, for my part, have quite madeup my mind. "the position is clear: i hold a ticket whichi am not entitled to cash and you are entitled to cash a ticket which you do not hold. thereforeneither of us can do anything without the other.

"now you would not consent to surrender yourrights to me nor i to give up my ticket to you. "what are we to do? "i see only one way out of the difficulty:let us divide. half a million for you, half a million for me. is not that fair? and wouldnot this judgment of solomon satisfy the sense of justice in each of us? "i propose this as an equitable solution,but also an immediate solution. it is not an offer which you have time to discuss, buta necessity before which circumstances compel you to bow. i give you three days for reflection.i hope that, on friday morning, i may have

the pleasure of seeing a discreet advertisementin the agony-column of the ã‰cho de france, addressed to 'm. ars. lup.' and containing,in veiled terms, your unreserved assent to the compact which i am suggesting to you.in that event, you will at once recover possession of the ticket and receive the million, onthe understanding that you will hand me five hundred thousand francs in a way which i willindicate hereafter. "should you refuse, i have taken measuresthat will produce exactly the same result; but, apart from the very serious trouble whichyour obstinacy would bring upon you, you would be the poorer by twenty-five thousand francs,which i should have to deduct for additional expenses.

"i am, dear sir,"very respectfully yours, "arsã¨ne lupin."m. gerbois, in his exasperation, was guilty of the colossal blunder of showing this letterand allowing it to be copied. his indignation drove him to every sort of folly: "not a penny! he shall not have a penny!"he shouted before the assembled reporters. "share what belongs to me? never! let himtear up his ticket if he likes!" "still, half a million francs is better thannothing." "it's not a question of that, but of my rights;and those rights i shall establish in a court of law."

"go to law with arsã¨ne lupin? that wouldbe funny!" "no, but the crã©dit foncier. they are boundto hand me the million." "against the ticket or at least against evidencethat you bought it?" "the evidence exists, seeing that arsã¨nelupin admits that he stole the desk." "what judge is going to take arsã¨ne lupin'sword?" "i don't care, i shall go to law!" the gallery was delighted. bets were made,some people being certain that lupin would bring m. gerbois to terms, others that hewould not go beyond threats. and the people felt a sort of apprehension; for the adversarieswere unevenly matched, the one being so fierce

in his attacks, while the other was as frightenedas a hunted deer. on friday, there was a rush for the ã‰chode france and the agony-column on the fifth page was scanned with feverish eyes. therewas not a line addressed to "m. ars. lup." m. gerbois had replied to arsã¨ne lupin'sdemands with silence. it was a declaration of war. that evening the papers contained the newsthat mlle. gerbois had been kidnapped. the most delightful factor in what i may callthe arsã¨ne lupin entertainment is the eminently ludicrous part played by the police. everythingpasses outside their knowledge. lupin speaks, writes, warns, orders, threatens, carriesout his plans, as though there were no police,

no detectives, no magistrates, no impedimentof any kind in existence. they seem of no account to him whatever. no obstacle entersinto his calculations. and yet the police struggle to do their best.the moment the name of arsã¨ne lupin is mentioned, the whole force, from top to bottom, takesfire, boils and foams with rage. he is the enemy, the enemy who mocks you, provokes you,despises you, or, even worse, ignores you. and what can one do against an enemy likethat? according to the evidence of the servant,suzanne went out at twenty minutes to ten. at five minutes past ten, her father, on leavingthe college, failed to see her on the pavement where she usually waited for him. everything,therefore, must have taken place in the course

of the short twenty minutes' walk which broughtsuzanne from her door to the college, or at least quite close to the college. two neighbours declared that they had passedher about three hundred yards from the house. a lady had seen a girl walking along the avenuewhose description corresponded with suzanne's. after that, all was blank. inquiries were made on every side. the officialsat the railway-stations and the customs-barriers were questioned. they had seen nothing onthat day which could relate to the kidnapping of a young girl. however, a grocer at ville-d'avraystated that he had supplied a closed motor-car, coming from paris, with petrol. there wasa chauffeur on the front seat and a lady with

fair hair—exceedingly fair hair, the witnesssaid—inside. the car returned from versailles an hour later. a block in the traffic compelledit to slacken speed and the grocer was able to perceive that there was now another ladyseated beside the blonde lady whom he had seen first. this second lady was wrapped upin veils and shawls. no doubt it was suzanne gerbois. consequently, the abduction must have takenplace in broad daylight, on a busy road, in the very heart of the town! how? at what spot?not a cry had been heard, not a suspicious movement observed. the grocer described the car, a peugeot limousine,24 horse-power, with a dark blue body. inquiries

were made, on chance, of mme. bob-walthour,the manageress of the grand garage, who used to make a specialty of motor-car elopements.she had, in fact, on friday morning, hired out a peugeot limousine for the day to a fair-hairedlady, whom she had not seen since. "but the driver?" "he was a man called ernest, whom i engagedthe day before on the strength of his excellent testimonials." "is he here?" "no, he brought back the car and has not beenhere since." "can't we get hold of him?"

"certainly, by applying to the people whorecommended him. i will give you the addresses." the police called on these persons. none ofthem knew the man called ernest. and every trail which they followed to findtheir way out of the darkness led only to greater darkness and denser fogs. m. gerbois was not the man to maintain a contestwhich had opened in so disastrous a fashion for him. inconsolable at the disappearanceof his daughter and pricked with remorse, he capitulated. an advertisement which appearedin the ã‰cho de france and aroused general comment proclaimed his absolute and unreservedsurrender. it was a complete defeat: the war was over in four times twenty-four hours.

two days later, m. gerbois walked across thecourtyard of the crã©dit foncier. he was shown in to the governor and handed him number 514,series 23. the governor gave a start: "oh, so you have it? did they give it backto you?" "i mislaid it and here it is," replied m.gerbois. "but you said.... there was a question...." "that's all lies and tittle-tattle." "but nevertheless we should require some corroborativedocument." "will the major's letter do?" "certainly."

"here it is." "very well. please leave these papers withus. we are allowed a fortnight in which to verify them. i will let you know when youcan call for the money. in the meanwhile, i think that you would be well-advised tosay nothing and to complete this business in the most absolute silence." "that is what i intend to do." m. gerbois did not speak, nor the governoreither. but there are certain secrets which leak out without any indiscretion having beencommitted, and the public suddenly learnt that arsã¨ne lupin had had the pluck to sendnumber 514, series 23, back to m. gerbois!

the news was received with a sort of stupefiedadmiration. what a bold player he must be, to fling so important a trump as the preciousticket upon the table! true, he had parted with it wittingly, in exchange for a cardwhich equalized the chances. but suppose the girl escaped? suppose they succeeded in recapturinghis hostage? the police perceived the enemy's weak pointand redoubled their efforts. with arsã¨ne lupin disarmed and despoiled by himself, caughtin his own toils, receiving not a single sou of the coveted million ... the laugh wouldat once be on the other side. but the question was to find suzanne. andthey did not find her, nor did she escape! "very well," people said, "that's settled:arsã¨ne has won the first game. but the difficult

part is still to come! mlle. gerbois is inhis hands, we admit, and he will not hand her over without the five hundred thousandfrancs. but how and where is the exchange to take place? for the exchange to take place,there must be a meeting; and what is to prevent m. gerbois from informing the police and thusboth recovering his daughter and keeping the money?" the professor was interviewed. greatly castdown, longing only for silence, he remained impenetrable: "i have nothing to say; i am waiting." "and mlle. gerbois?"

"the search is being continued." "but arsã¨ne lupin has written to you?" "do you swear that?" "that means yes. what are his instructions?" "i have nothing to say." maã®tre detinan was next besieged and showedthe same discretion. "m. lupin is my client," he replied, withan affectation of gravity. "you will understand that i am bound to maintain the most absolutereserve." all these mysteries annoyed the gallery. plotswere evidently hatching in the dark. arsã¨ne

lupin was arranging and tightening the meshesof his nets, while the police were keeping up a watch by day and night round m. gerbois.and people discussed the only three possible endings: arrest, triumph, or grotesque andpitiful failure. but, as it happened, public curiosity wasdestined to be only partially satisfied; and the exact truth is revealed for the firsttime in these pages. on thursday, the 12th of march, m. gerboisreceived the notice from the crã©dit foncier, in an ordinary envelope. at one o'clock on friday, he took the trainfor paris. a thousand notes of a thousand francs each were handed to him at two.

while he was counting them over, one by one,with trembling hands—for was this money not suzanne's ransom?—two men sat talkingin a cab drawn up at a short distance from the main entrance. one of these men had grizzledhair and a powerful face, which contrasted oddly with his dress and bearing, which wasthat of a small clerk. it was chief-inspector ganimard, old ganimard, lupin's implacableenemy. and ganimard said to detective-sergeant folenfant: "the old chap won't be long ... we shall seehim come out in five minutes. is everything ready?" "quite."

"how many are we?" "eight, including two on bicycles." "and myself, who count as three. it's enough,but not too many. that gerbois must not escape us at any price ... if he does, we're diddled:he'll meet lupin at the place they have agreed upon; he'll swap the young lady for the half-million;and the trick's done." "but why on earth won't the old chap act withus? it would be so simple! by giving us a hand in the game, he could keep the wholemillion." "yes, but he's afraid. if he tries to jockeythe other, he won't get his daughter back." "what other?"

"him." ganimard pronounced this word "him" in a graveand rather awe-struck tone, as though he were speaking of a supernatural being who had alreadyplayed him a nasty trick or two. "it's very strange," said sergeant folenfant,judiciously, "that we should be reduced to protecting that gentleman against himself." "with lupin, everything is upside down," sighedganimard. a minute elapsed. "look out!" he said. m. gerbois was leaving the bank. when he cameto the end of the rue des capucines, he turned

down the boulevard, keeping to the left-handside. he walked away slowly, along the shops, and looked into the windows. "our friend's too quiet," said ganimard. "afellow with a million in his pocket does not keep so quiet as all that." "what can he do?" "oh, nothing, of course.... no matter, i mistrusthim. it's lupin, lupin...." at that moment m. gerbois went to a kiosk,bought some newspapers, took his change, unfolded one of the sheets and, with outstretched arms,began to read, while walking on with short steps. and, suddenly, with a bound, he jumpedinto a motor-cab which was waiting beside

the curb. the power must have been on, forthe car drove off rapidly, turned the corner of the madeleine and disappeared. "by jupiter!" cried ganimard. "another ofhis inventions!" he darted forward and other men, at the sametime as himself, ran round the madeleine. but he burst out laughing. the motor-car hadbroken down at the beginning of the boulevard malesherbes and m. gerbois was getting out. "quick, folenfant ... the driver ... perhapsit's the man called ernest." folenfant tackled the chauffeur. it was aman called gaston, one of the motor-cab company's drivers; a gentleman had engaged him ten minutesbefore and had told him to wait by the newspaper-kiosk,

"with steam up," until another gentleman came. "and what address did the second fare give?"asked folenfant. "he gave me no address.... 'boulevard malesherbes... avenue de messine ... give you an extra tip': that's all he said." during this time, however, m. gerbois, withoutlosing a minute, had sprung into the first passing cab: "drive to the concorde tube-station!" the professor left the tube at the place dupalais-royal, hurried into another cab and drove to the place de la bourse. here he wentby tube again, as far as the avenue de villiers,

where he took a third cab: "25, rue clapeyron!" no. 25, rue clapeyron, is separated from theboulevard des batignolles by the house at the corner. the professor went up to the firstfloor and rang. a gentleman opened the door. "does maã®tre detinan live here?" "i am maã®tre detinan. m. gerbois, i presume?" "that's it." "i was expecting you. pray come in." when m. gerbois entered the lawyer's office,the clock was striking three and he at once

said: "this is the time he appointed. isn't he here?" "not yet." m. gerbois sat down, wiped his forehead, lookedat his watch as though he did not know the time and continued, anxiously: "will he come?" the lawyer replied: "you are asking me something, sir, which imyself am most curious to know. i have never felt so impatient in my life. in any case,if he comes, he is taking a big risk, for

the house has been closely watched for thepast fortnight.... they suspect me." "and me even more," said the professor. "iam not at all sure that the detectives set to watch me have been thrown off my track." "but then...." "it would not be my fault," cried the professor,vehemently, "and he can have nothing to reproach me with. what did i promise to do? to obeyhis orders. well, i have obeyed his orders blindly: i cashed the ticket at the time whichhe fixed and came on to you in the manner which he ordered. i am responsible for mydaughter's misfortune and i have kept my engagements in all good faith. it is for him to keep his."and he added, in an anxious voice, "he will

bring back my daughter, won't he?" "i hope so." "still ... you've seen him?" "i? no. he simply wrote asking me to receiveyou both, to send away my servants before three o'clock and to let no one into my flatbetween the time of your arrival and his departure. if i did not consent to this proposal, hebegged me to let him know by means of two lines in the ã‰cho de france. but i am onlytoo pleased to do arsã¨ne lupin a service and i consent to everything." m. gerbois moaned:

"oh, dear, how will it all end?" he took the bank-notes from his pocket, spreadthem on the table and divided them into two bundles of five hundred each. then the twomen sat silent. from time to time, m. gerbois pricked up his ears: wasn't that a ring atthe door-bell?... his anguish increased with every minute that passed. and maã®tre detinanalso experienced an impression that was almost painful. for a moment, in fact, the advocate lost allhis composure. he rose abruptly from his seat: "we shan't see him.... how can we expect to?...it would be madness on his part! he trusts us, no doubt: we are honest men, incapableof betraying him. but the danger lies elsewhere."

and m. gerbois, shattered, with his handson the notes, stammered: "if he would only come, oh, if he would onlycome! i would give all this to have suzanne back." the door opened. "half will do, m. gerbois." some one was standing on the threshold—ayoung man, fashionably dressed—and m. gerbois at once recognized the person who had accostedhim outside the curiosity-shop. he leapt toward him: "and suzanne? where is my daughter?"

arsã¨ne lupin closed the door carefully and,quietly unbuttoning his gloves, said to the lawyer: "my dear maã®tre, i can never thank you sufficientlyfor your kindness in consenting to defend my rights. i shall not forget it." maã®tre detinan could only murmur: "but you never rang.... i did not hear thedoor...." "bells and doors are things that have to dotheir work without ever being heard. i am here all the same; and that is the great thing." "my daughter! suzanne! what have you donewith her?" repeated the professor.

"heavens, sir," said lupin, "what a hurryyou're in! come, calm yourself; your daughter will be in your arms in a moment." he walked up and down the room and then, inthe tone of a magnate distributing praises: "i congratulate you, m. gerbois, on the skilfulway in which you acted just now. if the motor hadn't had that ridiculous accident we shouldsimply have met at the ã‰toile and saved maã®tre detinan the annoyance of this visit.... however,it was destined otherwise!" he caught sight of the two bundles of bank-notesand cried: "ah, that's right! the million is there!...let us waste no time.... will you allow me?" "but," said maã®tre detinan, placing himselfin front of the table, "mlle. gerbois is not

here yet." "well, isn't her presence indispensable?" "i see, i see! arsã¨ne lupin inspires onlya partial confidence. he pockets his half-million, without restoring the hostage. ah, my dearmaã®tre, i am sadly misunderstood! because fate has obliged me to perform acts of a rather... special character, doubts are cast upon my good faith ... mine! i, a man all scruplesand delicacy!... however, my dear maã®tre, if you're afraid, open your window and callout. there are quite a dozen detectives in the street." "do you think so?"

arsã¨ne lupin raised the blind: "i doubt if m. gerbois is capable of throwingganimard off the scent.... what did i tell you? there he is, the dear old chap!" "impossible!" cried the professor. "i swearto you, though...." "that you have not betrayed me?... i don'tdoubt it, but the fellows are clever. look, there's folenfant!... and grã©aume!... anddieuzy!... all my best pals, what?" maã®tre detinan looked at him in surprise.what calmness! he was laughing with a happy laugh, as though he were amusing himself atsome child's game, with no danger threatening him.

this carelessness did even more than the sightof the detectives to reassure the lawyer. he moved away from the table on which thebank-notes lay. arsã¨ne lupin took up the two bundles oneafter the other, counted twenty-five notes from each of them and, handing the lawyerthe fifty bank-notes thus obtained, said: "m. gerbois' share of your fee, my dear maã®tre,and arsã¨ne lupin's. we owe you that." "you owe me nothing," said maã®tre detinan. "what! after all the trouble we've given you!" "you forget the pleasure it has been to meto take that trouble." "you mean to say, my dear maã®tre, that yourefuse to accept anything from arsã¨ne lupin.

that's the worst," he sighed, "of having abad reputation." he held out the fifty thousand francs to the professor. "monsieur, let megive you this in memory of our pleasant meeting: it will be my wedding-present to mlle. gerbois." m. gerbois snatched at the notes, but protested: "my daughter is not being married." "she can't be married if you refuse your consent.but she is dying to be married." "what do you know about it?" "i know that young ladies often cherish dreamswithout papa's consent. fortunately, there are good geniuses, called arsã¨ne lupin, whodiscover the secret of those charming souls

hidden away in their writing-desks." "did you discover nothing else?" asked maã®tredetinan. "i confess that i am very curious to know why that desk was the object of yourattentions." "historical reasons, my dear maã®tre. although,contrary to m. gerbois' opinion, it contained no treasure beyond the lottery-ticket, ofwhich i did not know, i wanted it and had been looking for it for some time. the desk,which is made of yew and mahogany, decorated with acanthus-leaf capitals, was found inmarie walewska's discreet little house at boulogne-sur-seine and has an inscriptionon one of the drawers: 'dedicated to napoleon i., emperor of the french, by his most faithfulservant, mancion.' underneath are these words,

carved with the point of a knife: 'thine,marie.' napoleon had it copied afterward for the empress josephine, so that the writing-deskwhich people used to admire at the malmaison and which they still admire at the garde-meubleis only an imperfect copy of the one which now forms part of my collection." m. gerbois sighed: "oh, dear! if i had only known this at theshop, how willingly i would have let you have it!" arsã¨ne lupin laughed: "yes; and you would, besides, have had theappreciable advantage of keeping the whole

of number 514, series 23, for yourself." "and you would not have thought of kidnappingmy daughter, whom all this business must needs have upset." "all what business?" "the abduction ..." "but, my dear sir, you are quite mistaken.mlle. gerbois was not abducted." "my daughter was not abducted!" "not at all. kidnapping, abduction impliesviolence. now mlle. gerbois acted as a hostage of her own free will."

"of her own free will!" repeated the professor,in confusion. "and almost at her own request! why, a quick-wittedyoung lady like mlle. gerbois, who, moreover, harbours a secret passion at the bottom ofher heart, was hardly likely to refuse the opportunity of securing her dowry. oh, i assureyou it was easy enough to make her understand that there was no other way of overcomingyour resistance!" maã®tre detanin was greatly amused. he putin: "you must have found a difficulty in comingto terms. i can't believe that mlle. gerbois allowed you to speak to her." "i didn't. i have not even the honour of knowingher. a lady of my acquaintance was good enough

to undertake the negotiations." "the blonde lady in the motor-car, i suppose?"said maã®tre detinan. "just so. everything was settled at the firstinterview near the college. since then, mlle. gerbois and her new friend have been abroad,have visited belgium and holland in the most agreeable and instructive manner for a younggirl. however, she will tell you everything herself...." the hall-door bell rang: three rings in quicksuccession, then a single ring, then another single ring. "there she is," said lupin. "my dear maã®tre,if you would not mind...."

the lawyer ran to open the door. two young women entered. one of them flungherself into m. gerbois' arms. the other went up to lupin. she was tall and shapely, witha very pale face, and her fair hair, which glittered like gold, was parted into two looselywaved bandeaux. dressed in black, wearing no ornament beyond a five-fold jet necklace,she nevertheless struck a note of elegance and refinement. arsã¨ne lupin spoke a few words to her andthen, bowing to mlle. gerbois, said: "i must apologize to you, mademoiselle, forall this annoyance; but i hope, nevertheless, that you have not been too unhappy...."

"unhappy! i should even have been very happy,if it had not been for my poor father." "then all is for the best. embrace him oncemore and take the opportunity—you will never have a better—of speaking to him about yourcousin." "my cousin?... what do you mean?... i don'tunderstand...." "oh, i think you understand.... your cousinphilippe ... the young man whose letters you kept so preciously...." suzanne blushed, lost countenance and then,taking lupin's advice, threw herself once more into her father's arms. lupin looked at them both with a melting eye:

"ah, we are always rewarded for doing good!what a touching sight! happy father! happy daughter! and to think that this happinessis your work, lupin! those two beings will bless you later.... your name will be piouslyhanded down to their children and their children's children.... oh, family life!... family life!..."he turned to the window. "is our dear ganimard there still?... how he would love to witnessthis charming display of affection!... but no, he is not there.... there is nobody ... they'reall gone.... by jove, the position is growing serious!... i shouldn't wonder if they werein the gateway by now ... or by the porter's lodge ... or even on the stairs!" m. gerbois made an involuntary movement. nowthat his daughter was restored to him, he

began to see things in their true light. thearrest of his adversary meant half a million to him. instinctively, he took a step towardthe door.... lupin barred his way, as though by accident: "where are you going, m. gerbois? to defendme against them? you are too kind! pray don't trouble. besides, i assure you they are moreperplexed than i." and he continued, reflectively: "what do they know, when all is said? thatyou are here ... and, perhaps, that mlle. gerbois is here too, for they must have seenher come with an unknown lady. but they have no idea that i am here. how could i have entereda house which they searched this morning from cellar to garret? no, in all probability theyare waiting for me to catch me on the wing

... poor fellows!... unless they have guessedthat the unknown lady was sent by me and presume that she has been commissioned to effect theexchange.... in that case, they are preparing to arrest her when she leaves...." the bell rang. lupin stopped m. gerbois with an abrupt gestureand, in a harsh and peremptory voice, said: "stay where you are, sir! think of your daughterand be reasonable; if not.... as for you, maã®tre detinan, i have your word." m. gerbois stood rooted to the floor. thelawyer did not move. lupin took up his hat without the least showof haste. there was a little dust on it; he

brushed it with the back of his coat-sleeve: "my dear maã®tre, if i can ever be of useto you.... my best wishes, mlle. suzanne, and kind regards to m. philippe." he tooka heavy gold hunter from his pocket. "m. gerbois, it is now eighteen minutes to four: i authorizeyou to leave this room at fourteen minutes to four.... not a moment before fourteen minutesto four.... is it understood?" "but they'll enter by force!" maã®tre detinancould not help saying. "you forget the law, my dear maã®tre! ganimardwould never dare to violate the sanctity of a frenchman's home. we should have time fora pleasant rubber. but forgive me, you all three seem a little upset and i would notfor the world abuse...."

he placed the watch on the table, opened thedoor of the room and, addressing the fair-haired lady, said: "shall we go, dear?" he stood back for her to pass, made a partingand very respectful bow to mlle. gerbois, walked out and closed the door after him.and they heard him, in the hall, saying aloud: "good-afternoon, ganimard, how are you? rememberme very kindly to mme. ganimard.... i must drop in on her to lunch one of these days....good-bye, ganimard!" the bell rang again, sharply, violently, followedby repeated knocks and by the sound of voices on the landing....

"a quarter to four," stammered m. gerbois. after a few seconds, he stepped boldly intothe hall. arsã¨ne lupin and the fair-haired lady were not there. "father!... you mustn't!... wait!" cried suzanne. "wait? you're mad!... show consideration tothat scoundrel!... and what about the half-million?..." he opened the door. ganimard rushed in: "where's that lady?... and lupin?" "he was there ... he is there now."

ganimard gave a shout of triumph: "we've got him!... the house is surrounded." maã®tre detinan objected: "but the servants' staircase?" "the servants' staircase leads to the courtyardand there's only one outlet, the front door: i have ten men watching it." "but he did not come in by the front door....he won't go out that way either...." "which way, then?" jeered ganimard. "throughthe air?" he drew back a curtain. a long passage wasrevealed, leading to the kitchen. ganimard

ran down it and found that the door of theservants' staircase was double-locked. opening the window, he called to one of thedetectives: "seen any one?" "no, sir." "then," he exclaimed, "they are in the flat!...they are hiding in one of the rooms!... it is physically impossible for them to haveescaped.... ah, lupin, my lad, you did me once, but i'm having my revenge this time!..." at seven o'clock in the evening, astonishedat receiving no news, the head of the detective-service, m. dudouis, called at the rue clapeyron inperson. he put a few questions to the men

who were watching the house and then wentup to maã®tre detinan, who took him to his room. there he saw a man, or rather a man'stwo legs struggling on the carpet, while the body to which they belonged was stuffed upthe chimney. "hi!... hi!..." yelped a stifled voice. and a more distant voice, from right above,echoed: "hi!... hi!..." m. dudouis laughed and exclaimed: "well, ganimard, what are you playing sweepfor?" the inspector withdrew his body from the chimney.he was unrecognizable, with his black face,

his sooty clothes and his eyes glowing withfever. "i'm looking for him," he growled. "for whom?" "arsã¨ne lupin.... arsã¨ne lupin and his ladyfriend." "but what next? you surely don't imagine they'rehiding up the chimney?" ganimard rose to his feet, put his five soot-coveredfingers on the sleeve of his superior's coat and, in a hollow, angry voice, said: "where would you have them be, chief? theymust be somewhere. they are beings of flesh and blood, like you and me; they can't vanishinto thin air."

"no; but they vanish for all that." "where? where? the house is surrounded! thereare men on the roof!" "what about the next house?" "there's no communication." "the flats on the other floors?" "i know all the tenants. they have seen nobody.they have heard nobody." "are you sure you know them all?" "every one. the porter answers for them. besides,as an additional precaution, i have posted a man in each flat."

"we must find them, you know." "that's what i say, chief, that's what i say.we must and we shall, because they are both here ... they can't be anywhere else. be easy,chief; if i don't catch them to-night, i shall to-morrow.... i shall spend the night here!...i shall spend the night here!..." he did, in fact, spend the night there andthe next night and the night after that. and, when three whole days and three nights hadelapsed, not only had he failed to discover the elusive lupin and his no less elusivecompanion, but he had not even observed the slightest clue upon which to found the slightestsupposition. and that is why he refused to budge from hisfirst opinion:

"once there's no trace of their flight, theymust be here!" it is possible that, in the depths of hismind, he was less firmly convinced. but he refused to admit as much to himself. no, athousand times no: a man and a woman do not vanish into space like the wicked genii inthe fairy-tales! and, without losing courage, he continued his searchings and investigations,as though he hoped to discover them hidden in some impenetrable retreat, bricked up inthe walls of the house. chapter ii the blue diamond

in the evening of the twenty-seventh of march,old general baron d'hautrec, who had been french ambassador in berlin under the secondempire, was sleeping comfortably in an easy-chair in the house which his brother had left himsix months before, at 134, avenue henri-martin. his lady companion continued to read aloudto him, while så“ur auguste warmed the bed and prepared the night-light. as an exceptional case, the sister was returningto her convent that evening, to spend the night with the mother superior, and, at eleveno'clock, she said: "i'm finished now, mlle. antoinette, and i'mgoing." "very well, sister."

"and don't forget that the cook is sleepingout to-night and that you are alone in the house with the man-servant." "you need have no fear for monsieur le baron:i shall sleep in the next room, as arranged, and leave the door open." the nun went away. a minute later, charles,the man-servant, came in for his orders. the baron had woke up. he replied himself: "just the same as usual, charles. try theelectric bell, to see if it rings in your bedroom properly, and, if you hear it duringthe night, run down at once and go straight to the doctor."

"are you still anxious, general?" "i don't feel well.... i don't feel at allwell. come, mlle. antoinette, where were we in your book?" "aren't you going to bed, monsieur le baron?" "no, no, i don't care to go to bed till verylate; besides, i can do without help." twenty minutes later, the old man dozed offagain and antoinette moved away on tip-toe. at that moment, charles was carefully closingthe shutters on the ground floor, as usual. in the kitchen, he pushed the bolt of thedoor that led to the garden and, in the front hall, he not only locked the double door,but put up the chain fastening the two leaves.

then he went up to his attic on the thirdfloor, got into bed and fell asleep. perhaps an hour had elapsed when, suddenly,he jumped out of bed: the bell was ringing. it went on for quite a long time, seven oreight seconds, perhaps, and in a steady, uninterrupted way. "that's all right," said charles, recoveringhis wits. "some fresh whim of the baron's, i suppose." he huddled on his clothes, ran down the stairs,stopped before the door and, from habit, knocked. no answer. he entered the room: "hullo!" he muttered. "no light.... what onearth have they put the light out for?" and

he called, in a whisper, "mademoiselle!..." no reply. "are you there, mademoiselle?... what's thematter? is monsieur le baron ill?" the same silence continued around him, a heavysilence that ended by impressing him. he took two steps forward: his foot knocked againsta chair and, on touching it, he perceived that it was overturned. and thereupon hishand came upon other objects on the floor: a small table, a fire-screen. greatly alarmed,he went back to the wall and felt for the electric switch. he found it and turned onthe light. in the middle of the room, between the tableand the looking-glass wardrobe, lay the body

of his master, the baron d'hautrec. "what!" he stammered. "is it possible?" he did not know what to do and, without moving,with his eyes starting from his head, he stood gazing at the general disorder of the room:the chairs upset, a great crystal candlestick smashed into a thousand pieces, the clocklying on the marble hearth-stone, all signs of a fierce and hideous struggle. the handleof a little steel dagger gleamed near the body. the blade was dripping with blood. ahandkerchief stained with red marks hung down from the mattress. charles gave a yell of horror: the body hadsuddenly stretched itself in one last effort

and then shrunk up again.... two or threeconvulsions; and that was all. he stooped forward. blood was trickling froma tiny wound in the neck and spotting the carpet with dark stains. the face still worean expression of mad terror. "they've killed him," he stammered, "they'vekilled him!" and he shuddered at the thought of anotherprobable crime: was not the companion sleeping in the next room? and would not the baron'smurderer have killed her too? he pushed open the door: the room was empty.he concluded that either antoinette had been carried off or that she had gone before thecrime. he returned to the baron's room and, his eyesfalling upon the writing-desk, he observed

that it had not been broken open. more remarkablestill, he saw a handful of louis d'or on the table, beside the bunch of keys and the pocketbookwhich the baron placed there every evening. charles took up the pocketbook and went throughit. one of the compartments contained bank-notes. he counted them: there were thirteen notesof a hundred francs each. then the temptation became too strong forhim: instinctively, mechanically, while his thoughts did not even take part in the movementof his hand, he took the thirteen notes, hid them in his jacket, rushed down the stairs,drew the bolt, unhooked the chain, closed the door after him and fled through the garden. charles was an honest man at heart. he hadno sooner pushed back the gate than, under

the influence of the fresh air, with his facecooled by the rain, he stopped. the deed of which he had been guilty appeared to him inits true light and struck him with sudden horror. a cab passed. he hailed the driver: "hi, mate! go to the police-station and bringback the commissary.... gallop! there's murder been done!" the driver whipped up his horse. but, whencharles tried to go in again, he could not: he had closed the gate himself and the gatecould not be opened from the outside. on the other hand, it was of no use ringing,for there was no one in the house. he therefore

walked up and down along the gardens which,at the la muette end, line the avenue with a pleasant border of trim green shrubs. andit was not until he had waited for nearly an hour that he was at last able to tell thecommissary the details of the crime and hand him the thirteen bank-notes. during this time, a locksmith was sent forwho, with great difficulty, succeeded in forcing the gate of the garden and the front door.the commissary went upstairs and, at once, at the first glance, said to the servant: "why, you told me that the room was in thegreatest disorder!" he turned round. charles seemed pinned tothe threshold, hypnotized: all the furniture

had resumed its usual place! the little tablewas standing between the two windows, the chairs were on their legs and the clock inthe middle of the mantel-piece. the shivers of the smashed candlestick had disappeared. gaping with stupor, he articulated: "the body.... monsieur le baron ..." "yes," cried the commissary, "where is thevictim?" he walked up to the bed. under a large sheet,which he drew aside, lay general the baron d'hautrec, late french ambassador in berlin.his body was covered with his general's cloak, decorated with the cross of the legion ofhonour. the face was calm. the eyes were closed.

the servant stammered: "someone must have come." "which way?" "i can't say, but someone has been here duringmy absence.... look, there was a very thin steel dagger there, on the floor.... and then,on the table, a blood-stained handkerchief.... that's all gone.... they've taken everythingaway.... they've arranged everything...." "but who?" "the murderer!" "we found all the doors closed."

"he must have remained in the house." "then he would be here still, as you neverleft the pavement." the man reflected and said, slowly: "that's so ... that's so ... and i did notgo far from the gate either.... still ..." "let us see, who was the last person you sawwith the baron?" "mlle. antoinette, the companion." "what has become of her?" "i should say that, as her bed was not eventouched, she must have taken advantage of så“ur auguste's absence to go out also. itwould only half surprise me if she had: she

is young ... and pretty...." "but how could she have got out?" "through the door." "you pushed the bolt and fastened the chain!" "a good deal later! by that time, she musthave left the house." "and the crime was committed, you think, aftershe went?" "of course." they searched the house from top to bottom,from the garrets to the cellars; but the murderer had fled. how? when? was it he or an accomplicewho had thought proper to return to the scene

of the crime and do away with anything thatmight have betrayed him? those were the questions that suggested themselves to the police. the divisional surgeon came upon the sceneat seven o'clock, the head of the detective-service at eight. next came the turn of the publicprosecutor and the examining magistrate. in addition, the house was filled with policemen,inspectors, journalists, baron d'hautrec's nephew and other members of the family. they rummaged about, they studied the positionof the body, according to charles's recollection, they questioned så“ur auguste the moment shearrived. they discovered nothing. at most, så“ur auguste was surprised at the disappearanceof antoinette brã©hat. she had engaged the

girl twelve days before, on the strength ofexcellent references, and refused to believe that she could have abandoned the sick manconfided to her care, to go running about at night alone. "all the more so," the examining magistrateinsisted, "as, in that case, she would have been in before now. we therefore come backto the same point: what has become of her?" "if you ask me," said charles, "she has beencarried off by the murderer." the suggestion was plausible enough and fittedin with certain details. the head of the detective service said: "carried off? upon my word, it's quite likely."

"it's not only unlikely," said a voice, "butabsolutely opposed to the facts, to the results of the investigation, in short, to the evidenceitself." the voice was harsh, the accent gruff andno one was surprised to recognize ganimard. he alone, besides, would be forgiven thatrather free and easy way of expressing himself. "hullo, is that you, ganimard?" cried m. dudouis."i hadn't seen you." "i have been here for two hours." "so you do take an interest in something besidesnumber 514, series 23, the rue clapeyron mystery, the blonde lady and arsã¨ne lupin?" "hee, hee!" grinned the old inspector. "iwon't go so far as to declare that lupin has

nothing to do with the case we're engagedon.... but let us dismiss the story of the lottery-ticket from our minds, until furtherorders, and look into this matter." ganimard is not one of those mighty detectiveswhose proceedings form a school, as it were, and whose names will always remain inscribedon the judicial annals of europe. he lacks the flashes of genius that illumine a dupin,a lecoq or a holmlock shears. but he possesses first-rate average qualities: perspicacity,sagacity, perseverance and even a certain amount of intuition. his greatest merit liesin the fact that he is absolutely independent of outside influences. short of a kind offascination which arsã¨ne lupin wields over him, he works without allowing himself tobe biased or disturbed.

at any rate, the part which he played thatmorning did not lack brilliancy and his assistance was of the sort which a magistrate is ableto appreciate. "to start with," he began, "i will ask charleshere to be very definite on one point: were all the objects which, on the first occasion,he saw upset or disturbed put back, on the second, exactly in their usual places?" "exactly." "it is obvious, therefore, that they can onlyhave been put back by a person to whom the place of each of those objects was familiar." the remark impressed the bystanders. ganimardresumed:

"another question, mr. charles.... you werewoke by a ring.... who was it, according to you, that called you?" "monsieur le baron, of course." "very well. but at what moment do you takeit that he rang?" "after the struggle ... at the moment of dying." "impossible, because you found him lying,lifeless, at a spot more than four yards removed from the bell-push." "then he rang during the struggle." "impossible, because the bell, you told us,rang steadily, without interruption, and went

on for seven or eight seconds. do you thinkthat his assailant would have given him time to ring like that?" "then it was before, at the moment when hewas attacked." "impossible. you told us that, between thering of the bell and the instant when you entered the room, three minutes elapsed, atmost. if, therefore, the baron had rung before, it would be necessary for the struggle, themurder, the dying agony and the flight to have taken place within that short space ofthree minutes. i repeat, it is impossible." "and yet," said the examining magistrate,"some one rang. if it was not the baron, who was it?"

"the murderer." "with what object?" "i can't tell his object. but at least thefact that he rang proves that he must have known that the bell communicated with a servant'sbedroom. now who could have known this detail except a person belonging to the house?" the circle of suppositions was becoming narrower.in a few quick, clear, logical sentences, ganimard placed the question in its true light;and, as the old inspector allowed his thoughts to appear quite plainly, it seemed only naturalthat the examining magistrate should conclude: "in short, in two words, you suspect antoinettebrã©hat."

"i don't suspect her; i accuse her." "you accuse her of being the accomplice?" "i accuse her of killing general baron d'hautrec." "come, come! and what proof...?" "this handful of hair, which i found in thevictim's right hand, dug into his flesh by the points of his nails." he showed the hair; it was hair of a brilliantfairness, gleaming like so many threads of gold; and charles muttered: "that is certainly mlle. antoinette's hair.there is no mistaking it." and he added, "besides

... there's something more.... i believe theknife ... the one i didn't see the second time ... belonged to her.... she used it tocut the pages of the books." the silence that followed was long and painful,as though the crime increased in horror through having been committed by a woman. the examiningmagistrate argued: "let us admit, until further information isobtained, that the baron was murdered by antoinette brã©hat. we should still have to explain whatway she can have taken to go out after committing the crime, to return after charles's departureand to go out again before the arrival of the commissary. have you any opinion on thissubject, m. ganimard?" "then...?"

ganimard wore an air of embarrassment. atlast, he spoke, not without a visible effort: "all that i can say is that i find in thisthe same way of setting to work as in the ticket 514-23 case, the same phenomenon whichone might call the faculty of disappearance. antoinette brã©hat appears and disappearsin this house as mysteriously as arsã¨ne lupin made his way into maã®tre detinan's and escapedfrom there in the company of the blonde lady." "which means...?" "which means that i cannot help thinking ofthese two coincidences, which, to say the least, are very odd: first, antoinette brã©hatwas engaged by så“ur auguste twelve days ago, that is to say, on the day after that on whichthe blonde lady slipped through my fingers.

in the second place, the hair of the blondelady has precisely the same violent colouring, the metallic brilliancy with a golden sheen,which we find in this." "so that, according to you, antoinette brã©hat..." "is none other than the blonde lady." "and lupin, consequently, plotted both cases?" "i think so." there was a loud burst of laughter. it wasthe chief of the detective-service indulging his merriment: "lupin! always lupin! lupin is in everything;lupin is everywhere!"

"he is just where he is," said ganimard, angrily. "and then he must have his reasons for beingin any particular place," remarked m. dudouis, "and, in this case, his reasons seem to meobscure. the writing-desk has not been broken open nor the pocketbook stolen. there is evengold left lying on the table." "yes," cried ganimard, "but what about thefamous diamond?" "what diamond?" "the blue diamond! the celebrated diamondwhich formed part of the royal crown of france and which was presented by the duc d'alaisto lã©onide latouche and, on her death, was bought by baron d'hautrec in memory of thebrilliant actress whom he had passionately

loved. this is one of those recollectionswhich an old parisian like myself never forgets." "it is obvious," said the examining magistrate,"that, if the blue diamond is not found, the thing explains itself. but where are we tolook?" "on monsieur le baron's finger," replied charles."the blue diamond was never off his left hand." "i have looked at that hand," declared ganimard,going up to the corpse, "and, as you can see for yourselves, there is only a plain goldring." "look inside the palm," said the servant. ganimard unfolded the clenched fingers. thebezel was turned inward and, contained within the bezel, glittered the blue diamond.

"the devil!" muttered ganimard, absolutelynonplussed. "this is beyond me!" "and i hope that you will now give up suspectingthat unfortunate arsã¨ne lupin?" said m. dudouis, with a grin. ganimard took his time, reflected and retorted,in a sententious tone: "it is just when a thing gets beyond me thati suspect arsã¨ne lupin most." these were the first discoveries effectedby the police on the day following upon that strange murder, vague, inconsistent discoveriesto which the subsequent inquiry imparted neither consistency nor certainty. the movements ofantoinette brã©hat remained as absolutely inexplicable as those of the blonde lady,nor was any light thrown upon the identity

of that mysterious creature with the goldenhair who had killed baron d'hautrec without taking from his finger the fabulous diamondfrom the royal crown of france. moreover and especially, the curiosity whichit inspired raised the murder above the level of a sordid crime to that of a mighty, ifheinous trespass, the mystery of which irritated the public mind. baron d'hautrec's heirs were obliged to benefitby this great advertisement. they arranged an exhibition of the furniture and personaleffects in the avenue henri-martin, in the house itself, on the scene of the crime, priorto the sale at the salle drouot. the furniture was modern and in indifferent taste, the knicknackshad no artistic value ... but, in the middle

of the bedroom, on a stand covered with rubyvelvet, the ring with the blue diamond sparkled under a glass shade, closely watched by twodetectives. it was a magnificent diamond of enormous sizeand incomparable purity and of that undefined blue which clear water takes from the skywhich it reflects, the blue which we can just suspect in newly-washed linen. people admiredit, went into raptures over it ... and cast terrified glances round the victim's room,at the spot where the corpse had lain, at the floor stripped of its blood-stained carpetand especially at the walls, those solid walls through which the criminal had passed. theyfelt to make sure that the marble chimney-piece did not swing on a pivot, that there was nosecret spring in the mouldings of the mirrors.

they pictured yawning cavities, tunnels communicatingwith the sewers, with the catacombs.... the blue diamond was sold at the hã´tel drouoton the thirtieth of january. the auction-room was crammed and the bidding proceeded madly. all paris, the paris of the first nights andgreat public functions, was there, all those who buy and all those who like others to thinkthat they are in a position to buy: stockbrokers, artists, ladies in every class of society,two members of the government, an italian tenor, a king in exile who, in order to reã«stablishhis credit, with great self-possession and in a resounding voice, permitted himself theluxury of running up the price to a hundred thousand francs. a hundred thousand francs!his majesty was quite safe in making the bid.

the italian tenor was soon offering a hundredand fifty thousand, an actress at the franã§ais a hundred and seventy-five. at two hundred thousand francs, however, thecompetition became less brisk. at two hundred and fifty thousand, only two bidders remained:herschmann, the financial magnate, known as the gold-mine king; and a wealthy americanlady, the comtesse de crozon, whose collection of diamonds and other precious stones enjoysa world-wide fame. "two hundred and sixty thousand ... two hundredand seventy thousand ... seventy-five ... eighty," said the auctioneer, with a questioning glanceat either competitor in turn. "two hundred and eighty thousand for madame.... no advanceon two hundred and eighty thousand...?"

"three hundred thousand," muttered herschmann. a pause followed. all eyes were turned onthe comtesse de crozon. smiling, but with a pallor that betrayed her excitement, shestood leaning over the back of the chair before her. in reality, she knew and everybody presentknew that there was no doubt about the finish of the duel: it was logically and fatallybound to end in favour of the financier, whose whims were served by a fortune of over fivehundred millions. nevertheless, she said: "three hundred and five thousand." there was a further pause. every glance wasnow turned on the gold-mine king, in expectation of the inevitable advance. it was sure tocome, in all its brutal and crushing strength.

it did not come. herschmann remained impassive,with his eyes fixed on a sheet of paper which he held in his right hand, while the othercrumpled up the pieces of a torn envelope. "three hundred and five thousand," repeatedthe auctioneer. "going ... going.... no further bid...?" no one spoke. "once more: going ... going...." herschmann did not move. a last pause. thehammer fell. "four hundred thousand!" shouted herschmann,starting up, as though the tap of the hammer had roused him from his torpor.

too late. the diamond was sold. herschmann's acquaintances crowded round him.what had happened? why had he not spoken sooner? he gave a laugh: "what happened? upon my word, i don't know.my thoughts wandered for a second." "you don't mean that!" "yes, some one brought me a letter." "and was that enough...?" "to put me off? yes, for the moment." ganimard was there. he had watched the saleof the ring. he went up to one of the porters:

"did you hand m. herschmann a letter?" "who gave it you?" "a lady." "where is she?" "where is she?... why, sir, there she is ... thelady over there, in a thick veil." "just going out?" ganimard rushed to the door and saw the ladygoing down the staircase. he ran after her. a stream of people stopped him at the entrance.when he came outside, he had lost sight of her.

he went back to the room, spoke to herschmann,introduced himself and asked him about the letter. herschmann gave it to him. it containedthe following simple words, scribbled in pencil and in a handwriting unknown to the financier: "the blue diamond brings ill-luck. rememberbaron d'hautrec." the tribulations of the blue diamond werenot over. already famous through the murder of baron d'hautrec and the incidents at thehã´tel drouot, it attained the height of its celebrity six months later. in the summer,the precious jewel which the comtesse de crozon had been at such pains to acquire was stolen. let me sum up this curious case, marked byso many stirring, dramatic and exciting episodes,

upon which i am at last permitted to throwsome light. on the evening of the tenth of august, m.and madame de crozon's guests were gathered in the drawing-room of the magnificent chã¢teauoverlooking the bay of somme. there was a request for some music. the countess sat downto the piano, took off her rings, which included baron d'hautrec's, and laid them on a littletable that stood beside the piano. an hour later, the count went to bed, as didhis two cousins, the d'andelles, and madame de rã©al, an intimate friend of the comtessede crozon, who remained behind with herr bleichen, the austrian consul, and his wife. they sat and talked and then the countessturned down the big lamp which stood on the

drawing-room table. at the same moment, herrbleichen put out the two lamps on the piano. there was a second's darkness and groping;then the consul lit a candle and they all three went to their rooms. but, the instantthe countess reached hers, she remembered her jewels and told her maid to go and fetchthem. the woman returned and placed them on the mantel-piece. madame de crozon did notexamine them; but, the next morning, she noticed that one of the rings was missing, the ringwith the blue diamond. she told her husband. both immediately cameto the same conclusion: the maid being above suspicion, the thief could be none but herrbleichen. the count informed the central commissaryof police at amiens, who opened an inquiry

and arranged discreetly for the house to beconstantly watched, so as to prevent the austrian consul from selling or sending away the ring.the chã¢teau was surrounded by detectives night and day. a fortnight elapsed without the least incident.then herr bleichen announced his intention of leaving. on the same day, a formal accusationwas laid against him. the commissary made an official visit and ordered the luggageto be examined. in a small bag of which the consul always carried the key, they founda flask containing tooth-powder; and, inside the flask, the ring! mrs. bleichen fainted. her husband was arrested.

my readers will remember the defense set upby the accused. he was unable, he said, to explain the presence of the ring, unless itwas there as the result of an act of revenge on the part of m. de crozon: "the count ill-treats his wife," he declared,"and makes her life a misery. i had a long conversation with her and warmly urged herto sue for a divorce. the count must have heard of this and revenged himself by takingthe ring and slipping it into my dressing-bag when i was about to leave." the count and countess persisted in theircharge. it was an even choice between their explanation and the consul's: both were equallyprobable. no new fact came to weigh down either

scale. a month of gossip, of guess-work andinvestigations, failed to produce a single element of certainty. annoyed by all this worry and unable to bringforward a definite proof of guilt to justify their accusation, m. and madame de crozonwrote to paris for a detective capable of unravelling the threads of the skein. thepolice sent ganimard. for four days the old inspector rummaged andhunted about, strolled in the park, had long talks with the maids, the chauffeur, the gardeners,the people of the nearest post-offices, and examined the rooms occupied by the bleichencouple, the d'andelle cousins and madame de rã©al. then, one morning, he disappeared withouttaking leave of his hosts.

but, a week later, they received this telegram: "please meet me five o'clock to-morrow, fridayafternoon at thã© japonais, rue boissy-d'anglas. "ganimard."at five o'clock to the minute, on the friday, their motor-car drew up in front of 9, rueboissy-d'anglas. the old inspector was waiting for them on the pavement and, without a wordof explanation, led them up to the first-floor of the thã© japonais. in one of the rooms they found two persons,whom ganimard introduced to them. "m. gerbois, professor at versailles college,whom, you will remember, arsã¨ne lupin robbed of half a million.... m. lã©once d'hautrec,nephew and residuary legatee of the late baron

d'hautrec." the four sat down. a few minutes later, afifth arrived. it was the chief of the detective-service. m. dudouis appeared to be in a rather badtemper. he bowed and said: "well, what is it, ganimard? they gave meyour telephone message at headquarters. is it serious?" "very serious, chief. in less than an hour,the last adventures in which i have assisted will come to an issue here. i considered thatyour presence was indispensable." "and does this apply also to the presenceof dieuzy and folenfant, whom i see below, hanging round the door?"

"yes, chief." "and what for? is somebody to be arrested?what a melodramatic display! well, ganimard, say what you have to say." ganimard hesitated for a few moments and then,with the evident intention of impressing his hearers, said: "first of all, i wish to state that herr bleichenhad nothing to do with the theft of the ring." "oh," said m. dudouis, "that's a mere statement... and a serious one!" and the count asked: "is this ... discovery the only thing thathas come of your exertions?"

"no, sir. two days after the theft, threeof your guests happened to be at crã©cy, in the course of a motor-trip. two of them wenton to visit the famous battlefield, while the third hurried to the post-office and sentoff a little parcel, packed up and sealed according to the regulations and insured tothe value of one hundred francs." m. de crozon objected: "there is nothing out of the way in that." "perhaps you will think it less natural wheni tell you that, instead of the real name, the sender gave the name of rousseau and thatthe addressee, a m. beloux, residing in paris, changed his lodgings on the very evening ofthe day on which he received the parcel, that

is to say, the ring." "was it one of my d'andelle cousins, by anychance?" asked the count. "no, it was neither of those gentlemen." "then it was mme. de rã©al?" the countess, in amazement, exclaimed: "do you accuse my friend mme. de rã©al?" "a simple question, madame," replied ganimard."was mme. de rã©al present at the sale of the blue diamond?" "yes, but in a different part of the room.we were not together."

"did she advise you to buy the ring?" the countess collected her memory: "yes ... as a matter of fact.... i think shewas the first to mention it to me." "i note your answer, madame," said ganimard."so it is quite certain that it was mme. de rã©al who first spoke to you of the ring andadvised you to buy it." "still ... my friend is incapable...." "i beg your pardon, i beg your pardon, mme.de rã©al is only your chance acquaintance and not an intimate friend, as the newspapersstated, thus diverting suspicion from her. you have only known her since last winter.now i can undertake to prove to you that all

that she has told you about herself, her past,her connections is absolutely false; that mme. blanche de rã©al did not exist beforeshe met you; and that she has ceased to exist at this present moment." "well?" said m. dudouis, "what next?" "what next?" echoed ganimard. "yes, what next?... this is all very interesting;but what has it to do with the case? if mme. de rã©al took the ring, why was it found inherr bleichen's tooth-powder? come, ganimard! a person who takes the trouble to steal theblue diamond keeps it. what have you to answer to that?"

"i, nothing. but mme. de rã©al will answer." "then she exists?" "she exists ... without existing. in a fewwords, here it is: three days ago, reading the paper which i read every day, i saw atthe head of the list of arrivals at trouville, 'hã´tel beaurivage, mme. de rã©al,' and soon.... you can imagine that i was at trouville that same evening, questioning the managerof the beaurivage. according to the description and certain clues which i gathered, this mme.de rã©al was indeed the person whom i was looking for, but she had gone from the hotel,leaving her address in paris, 3, rue du colisã©e. on wednesday, i called at that address andlearnt that there was no madame de rã©al,

but just a woman called rã©al, who lived onthe second floor, followed the occupation of a diamond-broker and was often away. onlythe day before, she had come back from a journey. yesterday, i rang at her door and, under afalse name, offered my services to mme. de rã©al as an intermediary to introduce herto people who were in a position to buy valuable stones. we made an appointment to meet hereto-day for a first transaction." "oh, so you expect her?" "at half-past five." "and are you sure?..." "that it is mme. de rã©al of the chã¢teaude crozon? i have indisputable proofs. but

... hark!... folenfant's signal!..." a whistle had sounded. ganimard rose briskly: "we have not a moment to lose. m. and madamede crozon, go into the next room, please. you too, m. d'hautrec ... and you also, m.gerbois.... the door will remain open and, at the first sign, i will ask you to intervene.do you stay, chief, please." "and, if anyone else comes in?" asked m. dudouis. "no one will. this is a new establishmentand the proprietor, who is a friend of mine, will not let a living soul come up the stairs... except the blonde lady." "the blonde lady? what do you mean?"

"the blonde lady herself, chief, the friendand accomplice of arsã¨ne lupin, the mysterious blonde lady, against whom i have positiveproofs, but against whom i want, over and above those and in your presence, to collectthe evidence of all the people whom she has robbed." he leant out of the window: "she is coming.... she has gone in.... shecan't escape now: folenfant and dieuzy are guarding the door.... the blonde lady is ours,chief; we've got her!" almost at that moment, a woman appeared uponthe threshold, a tall, thin woman, with a very pale face and violent golden hair.

ganimard was stifled by such emotion thathe stood dumb, incapable of articulating the least word. she was there, in front of him,at his disposal! what a victory over arsã¨ne lupin! and what a revenge! and, at the sametime, that victory seemed to him to have been won with such ease that he wondered whetherthe blonde lady was not going to slip through his fingers, thanks to one of those miracleswhich lupin was in the habit of performing. she stood waiting, meanwhile, surprised atthe silence, and looked around her without disguising her uneasiness. "she will go! she will disappear!" thoughtganimard, in dismay. suddenly, he placed himself between her andthe door. she turned and tried to go out.

"no, no," he said. "why go?" "but, monsieur, i don't understand your ways.let me pass...." "there is no reason for you to go, madame,and every reason, on the contrary, why you should stay." "but ..." "it's no use, you are not going." turning very pale, she sank into a chair andstammered: "what do you want?" ganimard triumphed. he had got the blondelady. mastering himself, he said:

"let me introduce the friend of whom i spoketo you, the one who would like to buy some jewels ... especially diamonds. did you obtainthe one you promised me?" "no ... no.... i don't know.... i forget...." "oh, yes.... just try.... someone you knewwas to bring you a coloured diamond.... 'something like the blue diamond,' i said, laughing,and you answered, 'exactly. i may have what you want.' do you remember?" she was silent. a little wristbag which shewas holding in her hand fell to the ground. she picked it up quickly and pressed it toher. her fingers trembled a little. "come," said ganimard. "i see that you donot trust us, madame de rã©al. i will set

you a good example and let you see what ihave got to show." he took a piece of paper from his pocketbookand unfolded it: "here, first of all, is some of the hair ofantoinette brã©hat, torn out by the baron and found clutched in the dead man's hand.i have seen mlle. de gerbois: she has most positively recognized the colour of the hairof the blonde lady ... the same colour as yours, for that matter ... exactly the samecolour." mme. de rã©al watched him with a stupid expression,as though she really did not grasp the sense of his words. he continued: "and now here are two bottles of scent. theyare empty, it is true, and have no labels;

but enough of the scent still clings to themto have enabled mlle. gerbois, this very morning, to recognize the perfume of the blonde ladywho accompanied her on her fortnight's excursion. now, one of these bottles comes from the roomwhich mme. de rã©al occupied at the chã¢teau de crozon and the other from the room whichyou occupied at the hã´tel beaurivage." "what are you talking about?... the blondelady ... the chã¢teau de crozon...." the inspector, without replying, spread foursheets of paper on the table. "lastly," he said, "here, on these four sheets,we have a specimen of the handwriting of antoinette brã©hat, another of the lady who sent a noteto baron herschmann during the sale of the blue diamond, another of mme. de rã©al, atthe time of her stay at crozon, and the fourth

... your own, madame ... your name and addressgiven by yourself to the hall-porter of the hã´tel beaurivage at trouville. now, pleasecompare these four handwritings. they are one and the same." "but you are mad, sir, you are mad! what doesall this mean?" "it means, madame," cried ganimard, with agreat outburst, "that the blonde lady, the friend and accomplice of arsã¨ne lupin, isnone other than yourself." he pushed open the door of the next room,rushed at m. gerbois, shoved him along by the shoulders and, planting him in front ofmme. rã©al: "m. gerbois, do you recognize the person whotook away your daughter and whom you saw at

maã®tre detinan's?" there was a commotion of which every one feltthe shock. ganimard staggered back: "no?... is it possible?... come, just think...." "i have thought.... madame is fair, like theblonde lady ... and pale, like her ... but she doesn't resemble her in the least." "i can't believe it ... a mistake like thatis inconceivable.... m. d'hautrec, do you recognize antoinette brã©hat?" "i have seen antoinette brã©hat at my uncle's... this is not she." "and madame is not mme. de rã©al, either,"declared the comte de crozon.

this was the finishing stroke. it stunnedganimard, who stood motionless, with hanging head and shifting eyes. of all his contrivances,nothing remained. the whole edifice was tumbling about his shoulders. m. dudouis rose: "i must beg you to forgive us, madame. therehas been a regrettable confusion of identities, which i will ask you to forget. but what icannot well understand is your agitation ... the strangeness of your manner since you arrived...." "why, monsieur, i was frightened ... thereis over a hundred thousand francs' worth of jewels in my bag ... and your friend's attitudewas not very reassuring."

"but your continual absences?..." "surely my occupation demands them?" m. dudouis had no reply to make. he turnedto his subordinate: "you have made your inquiries with a deplorablewant of thoroughness, ganimard, and your behaviour toward madame just now was uncouth. you shallgive me an explanation in my office." the interview was over and the chief of thedetective service was about to take his leave, when a really disconcerting thing happened.mme. rã©al went up to the inspector and said: "do i understand your name to be m. ganimard?...did i catch the name right?" "in that case, this letter must be for you.i received it this morning, addressed as you

see: 'm. justin ganimard, care of mme. rã©al.'i thought it was a joke, as i did not know you under that name, but i have no doubt thewriter, whoever he is, knew of your appointment." by a singular intuition, justin ganimard wasvery nearly seizing the letter and destroying it. he dared not do so, however, before hissuperior and he tore open the envelope. the letter contained the following words, whichhe uttered in a hardly intelligible voice: "there was once a blonde lady, a lupin anda ganimard. now the naughty ganimard wanted to harm the pretty blonde lady and the goodlupin did not wish it. so the good lupin, who was anxious for the blonde lady to becomefriends with the comtesse de crozon, made her take the name of mme. de rã©al, whichis the same—or nearly—as that of an honest

tradeswoman whose hair is golden and her featurespale. and the good lupin said to himself, 'if ever the naughty ganimard is on the trackof the blonde lady, how useful it will be for me to shunt him on to the track of thehonest tradeswoman!' a wise precaution, which has borne fruit. a little note sent to thenaughty ganimard's newspaper, a bottle of scent forgotten on purpose at the hã´tel beaurivageby the real blonde lady, mme. rã©al's name and address written by the real blonde ladyin the visitors' book at the hotel, and the trick is done. what do you say to it, ganimard?i wanted to tell you the story in detail, knowing that, with your sense of humour, youwould be the first to laugh at it. it is, indeed, a pretty story and i confess that,for my part, it has diverted me vastly.

"my best thanks to you, then, my dear friend,and kind regards to that capital m. dudouis. "arsã¨ne lupin.""but he knows everything!" moaned ganimard, who did not think of laughing. "he knows thingsthat i have not told to a soul! how could he know that i would ask you to come, chief?how could he know that i had discovered the first scent-bottle?... how could he know?..." he stamped about, tore his hair, a prey tothe most tragic distress. m. dudouis took pity on him: "come, ganimard, console yourself. we musttry to do better next time." and the chief detective went away, accompaniedby mme. rã©al.

ten minutes elapsed, while ganimard read lupin'sletter over and over again and m. and mme. de crozon, m. d'hautrec and m. gerbois sustainedan animated conversation in a corner. at last, the count crossed over to the inspector andsaid: "the upshot of all this, my dear sir, is thatwe are no further than we were." "pardon me. my inquiry has established thefact that the blonde lady is the undoubted heroine of these adventures and that lupinis directing her. that is a huge step forward." "and not the smallest use to us. if anything,it makes the mystery darker still. the blonde lady commits murder to steal the blue diamondand does not steal it. she steals it and does so to get rid of it for another's benefit."

"what can i do?" "nothing, but some one else might...." "what do you mean?" the count hesitated, but the countess said,point blank: "there is one man, one man only, in my opinion,besides yourself, who would be capable of fighting lupin and reducing him to cry formercy. m. ganimard, would you very much mind if we called in the assistance of holmlockshears?" he was taken aback: "no ... no ... only ... i don't exactly understand...."

"well, it's like this: all this mystery ismaking me quite ill. i want to know where i am. m. gerbois and m. d'hautrec have thesame wish and we have come to an agreement to apply to the famous english detective." "you are right, madame," said the inspector,with a loyalty that did him credit; "you are right. old ganimard is not clever enough tofight against arsã¨ne lupin. the question is, will holmlock shears be more successful?i hope so, for i have the greatest admiration for him.... still ... it's hardly likely...." "it's hardly likely that he will succeed?" "that's what i think. i consider that a duelbetween holmlock shears and arsã¨ne lupin

can only end in one way. the englishman willbe beaten." "in any case, can he rely on you?" "certainly, madame. i will assist him to thevery best of my power." "do you know his address?" "yes; 219, parker street." that evening, the comte and comtesse de crozonwithdrew the charge against herr bleichen and a collective letter was addressed to holmlockshears. chapter iii holmlock shears opens hostilities

"what can i get you, gentlemen?" "anything you please," replied arsã¨ne lupin,in the voice of a man who takes no interest in his food. "anything you please, but nomeat or wine." the waiter walked away, with a scornful air. i exclaimed: "do you mean to say that you are still a vegetarian?" "yes, more than ever," said lupin. "from taste? conviction? habit?" "for reasons of health."

"and do you never break your rule?" "oh, yes ... when i go out to dinner, so asnot to appear eccentric." we were dining near the gare du nord, insidea little restaurant where arsã¨ne lupin had invited me to join him. he is rather fondof telegraphing to me, occasionally, in the morning and arranging a meeting of this kindin some corner or other of paris. he always arrives in the highest spirits, rejoicingin life, unaffectedly and good-humouredly, and always has some surprising anecdote totell me, some memory, the story of some adventure that i have not heard before. that evening, he seemed to me to let himselfgo even more than usual. he laughed and chatted

with a singular animation and with that delicateirony which is all his own, an irony devoid of bitterness, light and spontaneous. it wasa pleasure to see him like that, and i could not help expressing my satisfaction. "oh, yes," he cried, "i have days when everythingseems delightful, when life bubbles in me like an infinite treasure which i can neverexhaust. and yet goodness knows that i live without counting!" "too much so, perhaps." "the treasure is infinite, i tell you! i canspend myself and squander myself, i can fling my strength and my youth to the four windsof heaven and i am only making room for greater

and more youthful strength.... and then, really,my life is so beautiful!... i need only have the wish—isn't it so?—to become, fromone day to the next, anything: an orator, a great manufacturer, a politician.... well,i swear to you, the idea would never enter my head! arsã¨ne lupin i am, arsã¨ne lupini remain. and i search history in vain for a destiny to compare with mine, fuller, moreintense.... napoleon? yes, perhaps.... but then it is napoleon at the end of his imperialcareer, during the campaign in france, when europe was crushing him and when he was wonderingwhether each battle was not the last which he would fight." was he serious? was he jesting? the tone ofhis voice had grown more eager and he continued:

"everything's there, you see: danger! theuninterrupted impression of danger! oh, to breathe it like the air one breathes, to feelit around one, blowing, roaring, lying in wait, approaching!... and, in the midst ofthe storm, to remain calm ... not to flinch!... if you do, you are lost.... there is onlyone sensation to equal it, that of the chauffeur driving his car. but that drive lasts fora morning, whereas mine lasts all through life!" "how lyrical we are!" i cried. "and you wouldhave me believe that you have no special reason for excitement!" he smiled.

"you're a shrewd enough psychologist," hereplied. "there is something more, as you say." he poured out a tumbler of water, drank itdown and asked: "have you seen the temps to-day?" "holmlock shears was to have crossed the channelthis afternoon; he arrived in paris at six." "the devil he did! and why?" "he's taking a little trip at the expenseof the crozons, hautrec's nephew and the gerbois fellow. they all met at the gare du nord andwent on to see ganimard. the six of them are in conference at this moment."

notwithstanding the immense curiosity withwhich he inspires me, i never venture to question arsã¨ne lupin as to the acts of his privatelife until he has spoken of them to me himself. it is a matter of discretion on my part, withwhich i never compound. besides, at that time, his name had not yet been mentioned, at leastnot publicly, in connection with the blue diamond. i waited patiently, therefore. hecontinued: "the temps also prints an interview with thatexcellent ganimard, according to which a certain blonde lady, said to be my friend, is supposedto have murdered baron d'hautrec and tried to steal his famous ring from madame de crozon.and it goes without saying that he accuses me of being the instigator of both these crimes."

a slight shiver passed through me. could itbe true? was i to believe that the habit of theft, his mode of life, the sheer logic ofevents had driven this man to murder? i looked at him. he seemed so calm! his eyes met mineso frankly! i examined his hands: they were modelled withinfinite daintiness, were really inoffensive hands, the hands of an artist. "ganimard is a lunatic," i muttered. he protested: "not a bit of it, not a bit of it! ganimardis shrewd enough ... sometimes he's even quick-witted." "quick-witted!"

"yes, yes. for instance, this interview isa masterstroke. first, he announces the coming of his english rival, so as to put me on myguard and make shears's task more difficult. secondly, he specifies the exact point towhich he has carried the case, so that shears may enjoy only the benefit of his own discoveries.that's fair fighting." "still you have two adversaries to deal withnow; and such adversaries!" "oh, one of them doesn't count." "and the other?" "shears? oh, i admit that he's more of a matchfor me; but that's just what i love and why you see me in such good spirits. to beginwith, there's the question of my vanity: they

consider that i'm worth asking the famousenglishman to meet. next, think of the pleasure which a fighter like myself must take in theprospect of a duel with holmlock shears. well, i shall have to exert myself to the utmost.for i know the fellow: he won't retreat a step." "he's a clever man." "a very clever man. as a detective, i doubtif his equal exists, or has ever existed. only, i have one advantage over him, whichis that he's attacking, while i'm on the defensive. mine is the easier game to play. besides ..." hegave an imperceptible smile before completing his phrase. "besides, i know his way of fighting,and he does not know mine. and i have a few

sly thrusts in store for him which will givehim something to think about...." he tapped the table lightly with his fingersand flung out little sentences with a delighted air: "arsã¨ne lupin versus holmlock shears! franceversus england.... revenge for trafalgar at last!... ah, the poor wretch ... he littlethinks that i am prepared ... and a lupin armed...." he stopped suddenly, seized with a fit ofcoughing, and hid his face in his napkin, as though something had gone down the wrongway. "what is it?" i asked. "a crumb?... why don'tyou take some water?"

"no, it's not that," he gasped. "what, then?" "i want air." "shall i open the window?" "no, i shall go out.... quick, give me myhat and coat.... i'm off!" "but what does it all mean?" "you see the taller of those two men who havejust come in? well, i want you to keep on my left as we go out, to prevent his seeingme." "the one sitting behind you?..."

"yes.... for personal reasons, i prefer....i'll tell you why outside...." "but who is it?" "holmlock shears." he made a violent effort to overcome his agitation,as though he felt ashamed of it, put down his napkin, drank a glass of water and then,quite recovered, said, with a smile: "it's funny, isn't it? i'm not easily excitedbut this unexpected meeting...." "what are you afraid of, seeing that no onecan recognize you under all your transformations? i myself, each time i see you, feel as ifi were with a new person." "he will recognize me," said arsã¨ne lupin."he saw me only once,[1] but i felt that he

saw me for life and that what he saw was notmy appearance, which i can always alter, but the very being that i am.... and then ... andthen ... i wasn't prepared.... what a curious meeting!... in this little restaurant!..." "well," said i, "shall we go?" "no ... no...." "what do you propose to do?" "the best thing will be to act frankly ... totrust him." "you can't be serious?" "oh, but i am.... besides, it would be a goodthing to question him, to know what he knows....

ah, there, i feel that his eyes are fixedon my neck, on my shoulders.... he's trying to think ... to remember...." he reflected. i noticed a mischievous smileon his lips; and then, obeying, i believe, some whim of his frivolous nature rather thanthe needs of the position itself, he rose abruptly, spun round on his heels and, witha bow, said, gaily: "what a stroke of luck! who would have thoughtit?... allow me to introduce my friend." for a second or two, the englishman was takenaback. then he made an instinctive movement, as though he were ready to fling himself uponarsã¨ne lupin. lupin shook his head: "that would be a mistake ... to say nothingof the bad taste of it ... and the uselessness!"

the englishman turned his head from side toside, as though looking for assistance. "that's no better.... and also, are you quitesure that you are entitled to lay hands upon me? come, be a sportsman!" the display of sportsmanlike qualities wasnot particularly tempting on this occasion. nevertheless, it probably appeared to shearsto be the wisest course; for he half rose and coldly introduced his companion: "mr. wilson, my friend and assistant ... m.arsã¨ne lupin." wilson's stupefaction made us all laugh. hiseyes and mouth, both wide open, drew two streaks across his expansive face, with its skin gleamingand tight-stretched like an apple's, while

his bristly hair stood up like so many thick-set,hardy blades of grass. "wilson, you don't seem able to conceal yourbewilderment at one of the most natural incidents in the world," grinned holmlock shears, witha touch of sarcasm in his voice. wilson stammered: "why ... why don't you arrest him?" "don't you see, wilson, that the gentlemanis standing between the door and myself and at two steps from the door. before i moveda finger, he would be outside." "don't let that stand in your way," said lupin. he walked round the table and sat down sothat the englishman was between him and the

door, thus placing himself at his mercy. wilsonlooked at shears to see if he might admire this piece of pluck. shears remained impenetrable.but, after a moment, he called. "waiter!" the waiter came up. "four whiskeys and sodas." peace was signed ... until further orders.soon after, seated all four round one table, we were quietly chatting. [1] see the seven of hearts, by maurice leblanc.chapter ix: holmlock shears arrives too late. holmlock shears is a man ... of the sort onemeets every day. he is about fifty years of

age and looks like a decent city clerk whohas spent his life keeping books at a desk. he has nothing to distinguish him from theordinary respectable londoner, with his clean-shaven face and his somewhat heavy appearance, nothingexcept his terribly keen, bright, penetrating eyes. and then, of course, he is holmlock shears,that is to say, a sort of miracle of intuition, of insight, of perspicacity, of shrewdness.it is as though nature had amused herself by taking the two most extraordinary typesof detective that fiction had invented, poe's dupin and gaboriau's lecoq, in order to buildup one in her own fashion, more extraordinary yet and more unreal. and, upon my word, anyone hearing of the adventures which have made

the name of holmlock shears famous all overthe world must feel inclined to ask if he is not a legendary person, a hero who hasstepped straight from the brain of some great novel-writer, of a conan doyle, for instance. he at once, when arsã¨ne lupin asked him howlong he meant to stay, led the conversation into its right channel and replied: "that depends upon yourself, m. lupin." "oh," exclaimed the other, laughing, "if itdepended on me, i should ask you to take to-night's boat back." "to-night is rather early. but i hope in aweek or ten days...."

"are you in such a hurry?" "i am very busy. there's the robbery at theanglo-chinese bank; and lady eccleston has been kidnapped, as you know.... tell me, m.lupin, do you think a week will do?" "amply, if you confine yourself to the twocases connected with the blue diamond. it will just give me time to take my precautions,supposing the solution of those two mysteries to give you certain advantages over me thatmight endanger my safety." "yes," said the englishman, "i expect to havegained those advantages in a week or ten days." "and to have me arrested on the eleventh?" "on the tenth, at the very latest."

lupin reflected and, shaking his head: "it will be difficult ... it will be difficult...." "difficult, yes, but possible and, therefore,certain...." "absolutely certain," said wilson, as thoughhe himself had clearly perceived the long series of operations which would lead hisfriend to the result announced. holmlock shears smiled: "wilson, who knows what he is talking about,is there to confirm what i say." and he went on, "of course, i have not all the cards inmy hands, because the case is already a good many months old. i have not the factors, theclues upon which i am accustomed to base my

inquiries." "such as mud-stains and cigarette-ashes,"said wilson, with an air of importance. "but, in addition to the remarkable conclusionsarrived at by m. ganimard, i have at my service all the articles written on the subject, allthe evidence collected and, consequently, a few ideas of my own regarding the mystery." "a few views suggested to us either by analysisor hypothesis," added wilson, sententiously. "would it be indiscreet," said arsã¨ne lupin,in the deferential tone which he adopted toward shears, "would it be indiscreet to ask whatgeneral opinion you have been able to form?" it was really most stimulating to see thosetwo men seated together, with their elbows

on the table, arguing solemnly and dispassionately,as though they were trying to solve a steep problem or to come to an agreement on somecontroversial point. and this was coupled with a very delicate irony, which both ofthem, as experts and artists, thoroughly enjoyed. as for wilson, he was in the seventh heaven. shears slowly filled his pipe, lit it andsaid: "i consider that this case is infinitely lesscomplicated than it appears at first sight." "very much less," echoed wilson, faithfully. "i say the case, for, in my opinion, thereis but one case. the death of baron d'hautrec, the story of the ring and—don't let us forgetthat—the mystery of number 514, series 23,

are only the different aspects of what wemay call the puzzle of the blonde lady. now, in my opinion, what lies before me is simplyto discover the link which connects these three phases of the same story, the particularfact which proves the uniformity of the three methods. ganimard, who is a little superficialin his judgments, sees this uniformity in the faculty of disappearing, in the powerof coming and going unseen. this intervention of miracles does not satisfy me." "well, according to me," said shears, decidedly,"the characteristic shared by the three incidents lies in your manifest and evident, althoughhitherto unperceived intention to have the affair performed on a stage which you havepreviously selected. this points to something

more than a plan on your part: a necessityrather, a sine qu㢠non of success." "could you give a few particulars?" "easily. for instance, from the commencementof your contest with m. gerbois, it was evident that maã®tre detinan's flat was the placeselected by you, the inevitable place at which you were all to meet. no place seemed quiteas safe to you, so much so that you made what one might almost call a public appointmentthere with the blonde lady and mlle. gerbois." "the daughter of the professor," explainedwilson. "let us now speak of the blue diamond. didyou try to get hold of it during all the years that baron d'hautrec had it in his possession?no. but the baron moves into his brother's

house: six months later, antoinette brã©hatappears upon the scene and the first attempt is made.... you fail to secure the diamondand the sale takes place, amid great excitement, at the hã´tel drouot. is the sale free? isthe richest bidder sure of getting the diamond? not at all. at the moment when herschmannis about to become the owner, a lady has a threatening letter thrust into his hand andthe diamond goes to the comtesse de crozon, who has been worked upon and influenced bythe same lady. does it vanish at once? no: you lack the facilities. so an interval ensues.but the countess moves to her country-house. this is what you were waiting for. the ringdisappears." "to reappear in the tooth-powder of bleichen,the consul," objected lupin. "how odd!"

"come, come!" said shears, striking the tablewith his fist. "tell that to the marines. you can take in fools with that, but not anold fox like me." shears took his time, as though he wishedto save up his effect. then he said: "the blue diamond found in the tooth-powderis an imitation diamond. the real one you kept." arsã¨ne lupin was silent for a moment andthen, with his eyes fixed on the englishman, said very simply: "you're a great man, sir." "isn't he?" said wilson, emphatically andgaping with admiration.

"yes," said lupin, "everything becomes clearedup and appears in its true sense. not one of the examining magistrates, not one of thespecial reporters who have been exciting themselves about these cases has come half as near thetruth. i look upon you as a marvel of insight and logic." "pooh!" said the englishman, flattered atthe compliment paid him by so great an expert. "it only needed a little thought." "it needed to know how to use one's thought;and there are so few who do know. but, now that the field of surmise has been narrowedand the ground swept clear...." "well, now, all that i have to do is to discoverwhy the three cases were enacted at 25, rue

clapeyron, at 134, avenue henri-martin andwithin the walls of the chã¢teau de crozon. the whole case lies there. the rest is meretalk and child's play. don't you agree?" "i agree." "in that case, m. lupin, am i not right insaying that i shall have finished my business in ten days?" "in ten days, yes, the whole truth will beknown." "and you will be arrested." "no?" "for me to be arrested there would have tobe a conjunction of such unlikely circumstances,

a series of such stupefying pieces of ill-luck,that i cannot admit the possibility." "what neither circumstances nor luck may beable to effect, m. lupin, can be brought about by one man's will and persistence." "if the will and persistence of another mando not oppose an invincible obstacle to that plan, mr. shears." "there is no such thing as an invincible obstacle,m. lupin." the two exchanged a penetrating glance, freefrom provocation on either side, but calm and fearless. it was the clash of two swordsabout to open the combat. it sounded clear and frank.

"joy!" cried lupin. "here's a man at last!an adversary is a rara avis at any time; and this one is holmlock shears! we shall havesome sport." "you're not afraid?" asked wilson. "very nearly, mr. wilson," said lupin, rising,"and the proof is that i am going to hurry to make good my retreat ... else i might riskbeing caught napping. ten days, we said, mr. shears?" "ten days. this is sunday. it will all beover by wednesday week." "and i shall be under lock and key?" "without the slightest doubt."

"by jove! and i was congratulating myselfon my quiet life! no bothers, a good, steady little business, the police sent to the rightabout and a comforting sense of the general sympathy that surrounds me.... we shall haveto change all this! it is the reverse of the medal.... after sunshine comes rain.... thisis no time for laughing! good-bye." "look sharp!" said wilson, full of solicitudeon behalf of a person whom shears inspired with such obvious respect. "don't lose a minute." "not a minute, mr. wilson, except to tellyou how pleased i have been to meet you and how i envy the leader who has an assistantso valuable as yourself." courteous bows were exchanged, as betweentwo adversaries on the fencing-ground who

bear each other no hatred, but who are constrainedby fate to fight to the death. and lupin took my arm and dragged me outside: "what do you say to that, old fellow? there'sa dinner that will be worth describing in your memoirs of me!" he closed the door of the restaurant and,stopping a little way off: "do you smoke?" "no, but no more do you, surely." "no more do i." he lit a cigarette with a wax match whichhe waved several times to put it out. but

he at once flung away the cigarette, ran acrossthe road and joined two men who had emerged from the shadow, as though summoned by a signal.he talked to them for a few minutes on the opposite pavement and then returned to me: "i beg your pardon; but i shall have my workcut out with that confounded shears. i swear, however, that he has not done with lupin yet....by jupiter, i'll show the fellow the stuff i'm made of!... good night.... the unspeakablewilson is right: i have not a minute to lose." he walked rapidly away. thus ended that strange evening, or, at leastthat part of it with which i had to do. for many other incidents occurred during the hoursthat followed, events which the confidences

of the others who were present at that dinnerhave fortunately enabled me to reconstruct in detail. at the very moment when lupin left me, holmlockshears took out his watch and rose in his turn: "twenty to nine. at nine o'clock, i am tomeet the count and countess at the railway station." "let's go!" cried wilson, tossing off twoglasses of whiskey in succession. they went out. "wilson, don't turn your head.... we may befollowed: if so, let us act as though we don't

care whether we are or not.... tell me, wilson,what's your opinion: why was lupin in that restaurant?" wilson, without hesitation, replied: "to get some dinner." "wilson, the longer we work together, themore clearly i perceive the constant progress you are making. upon my word, you're becomingamazing." wilson blushed with satisfaction in the dark;and shears resumed: "yes, he went to get some dinner and then,most likely, to make sure if i am really going to crozon, as ganimard says i am, in his interview.i shall leave, therefore, so as not to disappoint

him. but, as it is a question of gaining timeupon him, i shall not leave." "ah!" said wilson, nonplussed. "i want you, old chap, to go down this street.take a cab, take two cabs, three cabs. come back later to fetch the bags which we leftin the cloak room and then drive as fast as you can to the ã‰lysã©e-palace." "and what am i to do at the ã‰lysã©e-palace?" "ask for a room, go to bed, sleep the sleepof the just and await my instructions." wilson, proud of the important task allottedto him, went off. holmlock shears took his ticket at the railway station and enteredthe amiens express, in which the comte and

comtesse de crozon had already taken theirseats. he merely bowed to them, lit a second pipeand smoked it placidly, standing, in the corridor. the train started. ten minutes later, he cameand sat down beside the countess and asked: "have you the ring on you, madame?" "please let me look at it." he took it and examined it: "as i thought: it is a faked diamond." "faked?" "yes, by a new process which consists in subjectingdiamond-dust to enormous heat until it melts

... whereupon it is simply reformed into asingle diamond." "why, but my diamond is real!" "yes, yours; but this is not yours." "where is mine, then?" "in the hands of arsã¨ne lupin." "and this one?" "this one was put in its place and slippedinto herr bleichen's tooth-powder flask, where you found it." "then it's an imitation?"

"absolutely." nonplussed and overwhelmed, the countess saidnothing more, while her husband, refusing to believe the statement, turned the jewelover and over in his fingers. she finished by stammering out: "but it's impossible! why didn't they justsimply take it? and how did they get it?" "that's just what i mean to try to discover." "at crozon?" "no, i shall get out at creil and return toparis. that's where the game between arsã¨ne lupin and myself must be played out. the trickswill count the same, wherever we make them;

but it is better that lupin should think thati am out of town." "what difference can it make to you, madame?the main object is your diamond, is it not?" "well, set your mind at rest. only a littlewhile ago, i gave an undertaking which will be much more difficult to keep. on the wordof holmlock shears, you shall have the real diamond back." the train slowed down. he put the imitationdiamond in his pocket and opened the carriage-door. the count cried: "take care; that's the wrong side!" "lupin will lose my tracks this way, if he'shaving me shadowed. good-bye."

a porter protested. the englishman made forthe station-master's office. fifty minutes later, he jumped into a train which broughthim back to paris a little before midnight. he ran across the station into the refreshmentroom, went out by the other door and sprang into a cab: "drive to the rue clapeyron." after making sure that he was not being followed,he stopped the cab at the commencement of the street and began to make a careful examinationof the house in which maã®tre detinan lived and of the two adjoining houses. he pacedoff certain distances and noted the measurements in his memorandum book:

"now drive to the avenue henri-martin." he dismissed his cab at the corner of theavenue and the rue de la pompe, walked along the pavement to no. 134 and went through thesame performance in front of the house which baron d'hautrec had occupied and the two housesby which it was hemmed in on either side, measuring the width of their respective frontagesand calculating the depth of the little gardens in front of the houses. the avenue was deserted and very dark underits four rows of trees, amid which an occasional gas-jet seemed to struggle vainly againstthe thickness of the gloom. one of these lamps threw a pale light upon a part of the houseand shears saw the notice "to let" hanging

on the railings, saw the two neglected walksthat encircled the miniature lawn and the great empty windows of the uninhabited house. "that's true," he thought. "there has beenno tenant since the baron's death.... ah, if i could just get in and make a preliminaryvisit!" the idea no sooner passed through his mindthan he wanted to put it into execution. but how to manage? the height of the gate madeit impossible for him to climb it. he took an electric lantern from his pocket, as wellas a skeleton key which he always carried. to his great surprise, he found that one ofthe doors of the gate was standing ajar. he, therefore, slipped into the garden, takingcare not to close the gate behind him. he

had not gone three steps, when he stopped.a glimmer of light had passed along one of the windows on the second floor. and the glimmer passed along a second windowand a third, while he was able to see nothing but a shadow outlined against the walls ofthe rooms. and the glimmer descended from the second floor to the first and, for a longtime, wandered from room to room. "who on earth can be walking about, at onein the morning, in the house where baron d'hautrec was murdered?" thought shears, feeling immenselyinterested. there was only one way of finding out, whichwas to enter the house himself. he did not hesitate. but the man must have seen him ashe crossed the belt of light cast by the gas-jet

and made his way to the steps, for the glimmersuddenly went out and shears did not see it again. he softly tried the door at the top of thesteps. it was open also. hearing no sound, he ventured to penetrate the darkness, feltfor the knob of the baluster, found it and went up one floor. the same silence, the samedarkness continued to reign. on reaching the landing, he entered one ofthe rooms and went to the window, which showed white in the dim light of the night outside.through the window, he caught sight of the man, who had doubtless gone down by anotherstaircase and out by another door and was now slipping along the shrubs, on the left,that lined the wall separating the two gardens:

"dash it!" exclaimed shears. "he'll escapeme!" he rushed downstairs and leapt into the garden,with a view to cutting off the man's retreat. at first, he saw no one; and it was some secondsbefore he distinguished, among the confused heap of shrubs, a darker form which was notquite stationary. the englishman paused to reflect. why hadthe fellow not tried to run away when he could easily have done so? was he staying thereto spy, in his turn, upon the intruder who had disturbed him in his mysterious errand? "in any case," thought shears, "it is notlupin. lupin would be cleverer. it must be one of his gang."

long minutes passed. shears stood motionless,with his eyes fixed upon the adversary who was watching him. but, as the adversary wasmotionless too and as the englishman was not the man to hang about doing nothing, he feltto see if the cylinder of his revolver worked, loosened his dagger in its sheath and walkedstraight up to the enemy, with the cool daring and the contempt of danger which make himso formidable. a sharp sound: the man was cocking his revolver.shears rushed into the shrubbery. the other had no time to turn: the englishman was uponhim. there was a violent and desperate struggle, amid which shears was aware that the man wasmaking every effort to draw his knife. but shears, stimulated by the thought of his comingvictory and by the fierce longing to lay hold

at once of this accomplice of arsã¨ne lupin's,felt an irresistible strength welling up within himself. he threw his adversary, bore uponhim with all his weight and, holding him down with his five fingers clutching at his throatlike so many claws, he felt for his electric lantern with the hand that was free, pressedthe button and threw the light upon his prisoner's face: "wilson!" he shouted, in terror. "holmlock shears!" gasped a hollow, stifledvoice. they remained long staring at each other,without exchanging a word, dumbfounded, stupefied. the air was torn by the horn of a motor-car.a breath of wind rustled through the leaves.

and shears did not stir, his fingers stillfixed in wilson's throat, which continued to emit an ever fainter rattle. and, suddenly, shears, overcome with rage,let go his friend, but only to seize him by the shoulders and shake him frantically: "what are you doing here? answer me!... whatare you here for?... who told you to hide in the shrubbery and watch me?" "watch you?" groaned wilson. "but i didn'tknow it was you." "then what? why are you here? i told you togo to bed." "i did go to bed."

"i told you to go to sleep." "i did." "you had no business to wake up." "your letter...." "the letter from you which a commissionairebrought me at the hotel." "a letter from me? you're mad!" "i assure you." "where is the letter?" wilson produced a sheet of note-paper and,by the light of his lantern, shears read,

in amazement: "get up at once, wilson, and go to the avenuehenri-martin as fast as you can. the house is empty. go in, inspect it, make out an exactplan and go back to bed. "holmlock shears.""i was busy measuring the rooms," said wilson, "when i saw a shadow in the garden. i hadonly one idea...." "to catch the shadow.... the idea was excellent....only, look here, wilson," said shears, helping his friend up and leading him away, "nexttime you get a letter from me, make sure first that it's not a forgery." "then the letter was not from you?" askedwilson, who began to have a glimmering of

the truth. "no, worse luck!" "who wrote it, then?" "arsã¨ne lupin." "but with what object?" "i don't know, and that's just what bothersme. why the deuce should he take the trouble to disturb your night's rest? if it were myself,i could understand, but you.... i can't see what interest...." "i am anxious to get back to the hotel."

"so am i, wilson." they reached the gate. wilson, who was infront, took hold of one of the bars and pulled it: "hullo!" he said. "did you shut it?" "certainly not: i left the gate ajar." shears pulled in his turn and then franticallyflung himself upon the lock. an oath escaped "damn it all! it's locked!... the gate's locked!" he shook the gate with all his might, but,soon realizing the hopelessness of his exertions, let his arms fall to his sides in discouragementand jerked out:

"i understand the whole thing now: it's hisdoing! he foresaw that i should get out at creil and he laid a pretty little trap forme, in case i should come to start my inquiry to-night. in addition, he had the kindnessto send you to keep me company in my captivity. all this to make me lose a day and also, nodoubt, to show me that i would do much better to mind my own business...." "that is to say that we are his prisoners." "you speak like a book. holmlock shears andwilson are the prisoners of arsã¨ne lupin. the adventure is beginning splendidly....but no, no, i refuse to believe...." a hand touched his shoulder. it was wilson'shand.

"look," he said. "up there ... a light...." it was true: there was a light visible throughone of the windows on the first floor. they both raced up, each by his own staircase,and reached the door of the lighted room at the same time. a candle-end was burning inthe middle of the floor. beside it stood a basket, from which protruded the neck of abottle, the legs of a chicken and half a loaf of bread. shears roared with laughter: "splendid! he gives us our supper. it's anenchanted palace, a regular fairy-land! come, wilson, throw off that dismal face. this isall very amusing."

"are you sure it's very amusing?" moaned wilson,dolefully. "sure?" cried shears, with a gaiety that wastoo boisterous to be quite natural. "of course i'm sure! i never saw anything more amusingin my life. it's first-rate farce.... what a master of chaff this arsã¨ne lupin is!...he tricks you, but he does it so gracefully!... i wouldn't give my seat at this banquet forall the gold in the world.... wilson, old chap, you disappoint me. can i have been mistakenin you? are you really deficient in that nobility of character which makes a man bear up undermisfortune? what have you to complain of? at this moment, you might be lying with mydagger in your throat ... or i with yours in mine ... for that was what you were tryingfor, you faithless friend!"

he succeeded, by dint of humour and sarcasm,in cheering up the wretched wilson and forcing him to swallow a leg of the chicken and aglass of wine. but, when the candle had gone out and they had to stretch themselves onthe floor to sleep, with the wall for a pillow, the painful and ridiculous side of the situationbecame apparent to them. and their slumbers were sad. in the morning, wilson woke aching in everybone and shivering with cold. a slight sound caught his ear: holmlock shears, on his knees,bent in two, was examining grains of dust through his lens and inspecting certain hardlyperceptible chalk-marks, which formed figures which he put down in his note-book.

escorted by wilson, who seemed to take a particularinterest in this work, he studied each room and found similar chalk-marks in two of theothers. he also observed two circles on some oak panels, an arrow on a wainscoting andfour figures on four steps of the staircase. after an hour spent in this way, wilson asked: "the figures are correct, are they not?" "i don't know if they're correct," repliedshears, whose good temper had been restored by these discoveries, "but, at any rate, theymean something." "something very obvious," said wilson. "theyrepresent the number of planks in the floor." "oh!"

"yes. as for the two circles, they indicatethat the panels sound hollow, as you can see by trying, and the arrow points to show thedirection of the dinner-lift." holmlock shears looked at him in admiration: "why, my dear chap, how do you know all this?your perspicacity almost makes me ashamed of myself." "oh, it's very simple," said wilson, burstingwith delight. "i made those marks myself last night, in consequence of your instructions... or rather lupin's instructions, as the letter i received from you came from him." i have little doubt that, at that moment,wilson was in greater danger than during his

struggle with shears in the shrubbery. shearsfelt a fierce longing to wring his neck. mastering himself with an effort, he gave a grin thatpretended to be a smile and said: "well done, well done, that's an excellentpiece of work; most useful. have your wonderful powers of analysis and observation been exercisedin any other direction? i may as well make use of the results obtained." "no; that's all i did." "what a pity! the start was so promising!well, as things are, there is nothing left for us to do but go." "go? but how?"

"the way respectable people usually go: throughthe gate." "it's locked." "we must get it opened." "whom by?" "would you mind calling those two policemenwalking down the avenue?" "but what?" "it's very humiliating.... what will peoplesay, when they learn that you, holmlock shears, and i, wilson, have been locked up by arsã¨nelupin?" "it can't be helped, my dear fellow; theywill laugh like anything," replied shears,

angrily, with a frowning face. "but we can'tgo on living here forever, can we?" "and you don't propose to try anything?" "not i!" "still, the man who brought the basket ofprovisions did not cross the garden either in coming or going. there must, therefore,be another outlet. let us look for it, instead of troubling the police." "ably argued. only you forget that the wholepolice of paris have been hunting for this outlet for the past six months and that imyself, while you were asleep, examined the house from top to bottom. ah, my dear wilson,arsã¨ne lupin is a sort of game we are not

accustomed to hunt: he leaves nothing behindhim, you see...." holmlock shears and wilson were let out ateleven o'clock and ... taken to the nearest police-station, where the commissary, aftercross-questioning them severely, released them with the most exasperating pretencesof courtesy: "gentlemen, i am grieved beyond measure atyour mishap. you will have a poor opinion of our french hospitality. lord, what a nightyou must have spent! upon my word, lupin might have shown you more consideration!" they took a cab to the ã‰lysã©e-palace. wilsonwent to the office and asked for the key of his room.

the clerk looked through the visitors' bookand replied, in great surprise: "but you gave up your room this morning, sir!" "what do you mean? how did i give up my room?" "you sent us a letter by your friend." "what friend?" "why, the gentleman who brought us your letter....here it is, with your card enclosed." wilson took the letter and the enclosure.it was certainly one of his visiting-cards and the letter was in his writing: "good lord!" he muttered. "here's anothernasty trick." and he added, anxiously, "what

about the luggage?" "why, your friend took it with him." "oh!.... so you gave it to him?" "certainly, on the authority of your card." "just so ... just so...." they both went out and wandered down the champs-ã‰lysã¨es,slowly and silently. a fine autumn sun filled the avenue. the air was mild and light. at the rond-point, shears lit his pipe andresumed his walk. wilson cried: "i can't understand you, shears; you takeit so calmly! the man laughs at you, plays

with you as a cat plays with a mouse ... andyou don't utter a word!" shears stopped and said: "i'm thinking of your visiting-card, wilson." "well, here is a man, who, by way of preparingfor a possible struggle with us, obtains specimens of your handwriting and mine and has one ofyour cards ready in his pocketbook. have you thought of the amount of precaution, of perspicacity,of determination, of method, of organization that all this represents?" "you mean to say ..." "i mean to say, wilson, that, to fight anenemy so formidably armed, so wonderfully

equipped—and to beat him—takes ... a manlike myself. and, even then, wilson," he added, laughing, "one does not succeed at the firstattempt, as you see!" at six o'clock, the ã‰cho de france publishedthe following paragraph in its special edition: "this morning, m. thã©nard, the commissaryof police of the 16th division, released messrs. holmlock shears and wilson, who had been confined,by order of arsã¨ne lupin, in the late baron d'hautrec's house, where they spent an excellentnight. "they were also relieved of their luggageand have laid an information against arsã¨ne lupin. "arsã¨ne lupin has been satisfied with givingthem a little lesson this time; but he earnestly

begs them not to compel him to adopt moreserious measures." "pooh!" said holmlock shears, crumpling upthe paper. "schoolboy tricks! that's the only fault i have to find with lupin ... he's toochildish, too fond of playing to the gallery.... he's a street arab at heart!" "so you continue to take it calmly, shears?" "quite calmly," replied shears, in a voiceshaking with rage. "what's the use of being angry? i am so certain of having the lastword!" chapter iv a

glimmer in the darkness however impervious to outside influences aman's character may be—and shears is one of those men upon whom ill-luck takes hardlyany hold—there are yet circumstances in which the most undaunted feel the need tocollect their forces before again facing the chances of a battle. "i shall take a holiday to-day," said shears. "and i?" "you, wilson, must go and buy clothes andshirts and things to replenish our wardrobe. during that time, i shall rest."

"yes, rest, shears. i shall watch." wilson uttered those three words with allthe importance of a sentry placed on outpost duty and therefore exposed to the worst dangers.he threw out his chest and stiffened his muscles. with a sharp eye, he glanced round the littlehotel bedroom where they had taken up their quarters. "that's right, wilson: watch. i shall employthe interval in preparing a plan of campaign better suited to the adversary whom we haveto deal with. you see, wilson, we were wrong about lupin. we must start again from thebeginning." "even earlier, if we can. but have we time?"

"nine days, old chap: five days more thanwe want." the englishman spent the whole afternoon smokingand dozing. he did not begin operations until the following morning: "i'm ready now, wilson. we can go ahead." "let's go ahead," cried wilson, full of martialardour. "my legs are twitching to start." shears had three long interviews: first, withmaã®tre detinan, whose flat he inspected through and through; next, with suzanne gerbois, towhom he telegraphed to come and whom he questioned about the blonde lady; lastly with så“ur auguste,who had returned to the visitation convent after the murder of baron d'hautrec.

at each visit, wilson waited outside and,after each visit, asked: "satisfied?" "i was sure of it. we're on the right tracknow. let's go ahead." they did a great deal of going. they calledat the two mansions on either side of the house in the avenue henri-martin. from therethey went on to the rue clapeyron and, while he was examining the front of no. 25, shearscontinued: "it is quite obvious that there are secretpassages between all these houses.... but what i cannot make out...." for the first time and in his inmost heart,wilson doubted the omnipotence of his talented

chief. why was he talking so much and doingso little? "why?" cried shears, replying to wilson'sunspoken thoughts. "because, with that confounded lupin, one has nothing to go upon; one worksat random. instead of deriving the truth from exact facts, one has to get at it by intuitionand verify it afterward to see if it fits in." "but the secret passages...?" "what then? even if i knew them, if i knewthe one which admitted lupin to his lawyer's study or the one taken by the blonde ladyafter the murder of baron d'hautrec, how much further should i be? would that give me aweapon to go for him with?"

"let's go for him, in any case," said wilson. he had not finished speaking, when he jumpedback with a cry. something had fallen at their feet: a bag half-filled with sand, which mighthave hurt them seriously. shears looked up: some men were working ina cradle hooked on to the balcony of the fifth floor. "upon my word," he said, "we've had a luckyescape! the clumsy beggars! another yard and we should have caught that bag on our heads.one would really think...." he stopped, darted into the house, rushedup the staircase, rang the bell on the fifth landing, burst into the flat, to the greatalarm of the footman who opened the door,

and went out on the balcony. there was noone there. "where are the workmen who were here a momentago?" he asked the footman. "they have just gone." "why, down the servants' staircase." shears leant over. he saw two men leavingthe house, leading their bicycles. they mounted and rode away. "have they been working on this cradle long?" "no, only since this morning. they were newmen." shears joined wilson down below.

they went home in a depressed mood; and thissecond day ended in silent gloom. they followed a similar programme on the followingday. they sat down on a bench in the avenue henri-martin. wilson, who was thoroughly boredby this interminable wait opposite the three houses, felt driven to desperation: "what do you expect, shears? to see lupincome out?" "or the blonde lady?" "i expect some little thing to happen, somelittle tiny thing which i can use as a starting-point." "and, if nothing happens?" "in that case, something will happen insidemyself: a spark that will set us going."

the only incident that broke the monotonyof the morning was a rather disagreeable one. a gentleman was coming down the riding-paththat separates the two roadways of the avenue, when his horse swerved, struck the bench onwhich they were sitting and backed against shears's shoulder. "tut, tut!" snarled shears. "a shade moreand i should have had my shoulder smashed." the rider was struggling with his horse. theenglishman drew his revolver and took aim. but wilson seized his arm smartly: "you're mad, holmlock! why ... look here ... you'llkill that gentleman!" "let go, wilson ... do let go!"

a wrestle ensued, during which the horsemangot his mount under control and galloped away. "now you can fire!" exclaimed wilson, triumphantly,when the man was at some distance. "but, you confounded fool, don't you understandthat that was a confederate of arsã¨ne lupin's?" shears was trembling with rage. wilson stammered,piteously: "what do you mean? that gentleman...?" "was a confederate of lupin's, like the workmenwho flung that bag at our heads." "it's not credible!" "credible or not, there was a means handyof obtaining a proof." "by killing that gentleman?"

"by simply bringing down his horse. but foryou, i should have got one of lupin's pals. do you see now what a fool you've been?" the afternoon was passed in a very sullenfashion. shears and wilson did not exchange a word. at five o'clock, as they were pacingup and down the rue clapeyron, taking care, however, to keep away from the houses, threeyoung workingmen came along the pavement singing, arm-in-arm, knocked up against them and triedto continue their road without separating. shears, who was in a bad temper, pushed themback. there was a short scuffle. shears put up his fists, struck one of the men in thechest and gave another a blow in the face, whereupon the men desisted and walked awaywith the third.

"ah," cried shears, "i feel all the betterfor that!... my nerves were a bit strained.... good business!..." but he saw wilson leaning against the wall: "hullo, old chap," he said, "what's up? youlook quite pale." old chap pointed to his arm, which was hanginglifeless by his side, and stammered: "i don't know ... my arm's hurting me...." "your arm?... badly?" "yes ... rather ... it's my right arm...." he tried to lift it, but could not. shearsfelt it, gently at first and then more roughly,

"to see exactly," he said, "how much it hurts."it hurt exactly so much that wilson, on being led to a neighbouring chemist's shop, experiencedan immediate need to fall into a dead faint. the chemist and his assistant did what theycould. they discovered that the arm was broken and that it was a case for a surgeon, an operationand a hospital. meanwhile, the patient was undressed and began to relieve his sufferingsby roaring with pain. "that's all right, that's all right," saidshears, who was holding wilson's arm. "just a little patience, old chap ... in five orsix weeks, you won't know that you've been hurt.... but i'll make them pay for it, thescoundrels!... you understand.... i mean him especially ... for it's that wretched lupinwho's responsible for this.... oh, i swear

to you that if ever...." he interrupted himself suddenly, dropped thearm, which gave wilson such a shock of pain that the poor wretch fainted once more, and,striking his forehead, shouted: "wilson, i have an idea.... could it possibly...?" he stood motionless, with his eyes fixed beforehim, and muttered in short sentences: "yes, that's it.... it's all clear now ... theexplanation staring us in the face.... why, of course, i knew it only needed a littlethought!... ah, my dear wilson, this will rejoice your heart!" and, leaving old chap where he was, he rushedinto the street and ran to no. 25.

one of the stones above the door, on the right,bore the inscription: "destange, architect, 1875." the same inscription appeared on no. 23. sofar, this was quite natural. but what would he find down there, in the avenue henri-martin? he hailed a passing cab: "drive to 134, avenue henri-martin. go asfast as you can." standing up in the cab, he urged on the horse,promising the driver tip after tip: "faster!... faster still!" he was in an agony as he turned the cornerof the rue de la pompe. had he caught a glimpse

of the truth? on one of the stones of the house, he readthe words: "destange, architect, 1874." and he found the same inscription—"destange,architect, 1874"—on each of the adjoining blocks of flats. the reaction after this excitement was sogreat that he sank back into the cab for a few minutes, all trembling with delight. atlast a tiny glimmer flickered in the darkness! amid the thousand intersecting paths in thegreat, gloomy forest, he had found the first sign of a trail followed by the enemy! he entered a telephone-office and asked tobe put on to the chã¢teau de crozon. the countess

herself answered. "hullo!... is that you, madame?" "is that mr. shears? how are things going?" "very well. but tell me, quickly.... hullo!are you there?..." "yes...." "when was the chã¢teau de crozon built?" "it was burnt down thirty years ago and rebuilt." "by whom? and in what year?" "there's an inscription over the front door:'lucien destange, architect, 1877.'"

"thank you, madame. good-bye." "good-bye." he went away, muttering: "destange.... lucien destange.... i seem toknow the name...." he found a public library, consulted a modernbiographical dictionary and copied out the reference to "lucien destange, born 1840,grand-prix de rome, officer of the legion of honour, author of several valuable workson architecture," etc. he next went to the chemist's and, from there,to the hospital to which wilson had been moved. old chap was lying on his bed of pain, withhis arm in splints, shivering with fever and

slightly delirious. "victory! victory!" cried shears. "i haveone end of the clue." "what clue?" "the clue that will lead me to success. iam now treading firm soil, where i shall find marks and indications...." "cigarette-ashes?" asked wilson, whom theinterest of the situation was reviving. "and plenty of other things! just think, wilson,i have discovered the mysterious link that connects the three adventures of the blondelady. why were the three houses in which the three adventures took place selected by arsã¨nelupin?"

"yes, why?" "because those three houses, wilson, werebuilt by the same architect. it was easy to guess that, you say? certainly it was....and that's why nobody thought of it." "nobody except yourself." "just so! and i now understand how the samearchitect, by contriving similar plans, enabled three actions to be performed which appearedto be miraculous, though they were really quite easy and simple." "what luck!" "it was high time, old chap, for i was beginningto lose patience.... this is the fourth day."

"out of ten." "oh, but from now onward...!" he could no longer keep his seat, exultingin his gladness beyond his wont: "oh, when i think that, just now, in the street,those ruffians might have broken my arm as well as yours! what do you say to that, wilson?" wilson simply shuddered at the horrid thought. and shears continued: "let this be a lesson to us! you see, wilson,our great mistake has been to fight lupin in the open and to expose ourselves, in themost obliging way, to his attacks. the thing

is not as bad as it might be, because he onlygot at you...." "and i came off with a broken arm," moanedwilson. "whereas it might have been both of us. butno more swaggering. watched, in broad daylight, i am beaten. working freely, in the shade,i have the advantage, whatever the enemy's strength may be." "ganimard might be able to help you." "never! on the day when i can say, 'arsã¨nelupin is there; that is his hiding-place; this is how you must set to work to catchhim,' i shall hunt up ganimard at one of the two addresses he gave me, his flat in therue pergolã¨se, or the taverne suisse, on

the place du chã¢telet. but till then i shallact alone." he went up to the bed, put his hand on wilson'sshoulder—the bad shoulder, of course—and said, in a very affectionate voice: "take care of yourself, old chap. your task,henceforth, will consist in keeping two or three of lupin's men busy. they will wastetheir time waiting for me to come and inquire after you. it's a confidential task." "thank you ever so much," replied wilson,gratefully. "i shall do my best to perform it conscientiously. so you are not comingback?" "why should i?" asked shears, coldly.

"no ... you're quite right ... you're quiteright.... i'm going on as well as can be expected. you might do one thing for me, holmlock: giveme a drink." "a drink?" "yes, i'm parched with thirst; and this feverof mine...." "why, of course! wait a minute." he fumbled about among some bottles, cameupon a packet of tobacco, filled and lit his pipe and, suddenly, as though he had not evenheard his friend's request, walked away, while old chap cast longing glances at the water-bottlebeyond his reach. "is m. destange at home?"

the butler eyed the person to whom he hadopened the door of the house—the magnificent house at the corner of the place malesherbesand the rue montchanin—and, at the sight of the little gray-haired, ill-shaven man,whose long and far from immaculate frock-coat matched the oddity of a figure to which naturehad been anything but kind, replied, with due scorn: "m. destange may be at home or he may be out.it depends. has monsieur a card?" monsieur had no card, but he carried a letterof introduction and the butler had to take it to m. destange, whereupon m. destange orderedthe newcomer to be shown in. he was ushered into a large circular room,which occupied one of the wings of the house

and which was lined with books all round thewalls. "are you m. stickmann?" asked the architect. "yes, sir." "my secretary writes that he is ill and sendsyou to continue the general catalogue of my books, which he began under my direction,and of the german books in particular. have you any experience of this sort of work?" "yes, sir, a long experience," replied stickmann,in a strong teutonic accent. in these conditions, the matter was soon settled;and m. destange set to work with his new secretary without further delay.

holmlock shears had carried the citadel. in order to escape lupin's observation andto obtain an entrance into the house which lucien destange occupied with his daughterclotilde, the illustrious detective had been obliged to take a leap in the dark, to resortto untold stratagems, to win the favour and confidence of a host of people under endlessdifferent names, in short, to lead forty-eight hours of the most complex life. the particulars which he had gathered werethese: m. destange, who was in failing health and anxious for rest, had retired from businessand was living among the architectural books which it had been his hobby to collect. hehad no interest left in life beyond the handling

and examining of those old dusty volumes. as for his daughter clotilde, she was lookedupon as eccentric. she spent her days, like her father, in the house, but in another partof it, and never went out. "this is all," thought shears, as he wrotedown the titles of the books in his catalogue, to m. destange's dictation, "this is all moreor less indefinite; but it is a good step forward. i am bound to discover the solutionof one at least of these exciting problems: is m. destange an accomplice of arsã¨ne lupin's?does he see him now? are there any papers relating to the building of the three houses?will these papers supply me with the address of other properties, similarly faked, whichlupin may have reserved for his own use and

that of his gang?" m. destange an accomplice of arsã¨ne lupin's!this venerable man, an officer of the legion of honour, working hand in hand with a burglar!the presumption was hardly tenable. besides, supposing that they were accomplices, howdid m. destange come to provide for arsã¨ne lupin's various escapes thirty years beforethey occurred, at a time when arsã¨ne was in his cradle? no matter, the englishman stuck to his guns.with his prodigious intuition, with that instinct which is all his own, he felt a mystery surroundinghim. this was perceptible by small signs, which he could not have described with precision,but which impressed him from the moment when

he first set foot in the house. on the morning of the second day, he had asyet discovered nothing of interest. he first saw clotilde destange at two o'clock, whenshe came to fetch a book from the library. she was a woman of thirty, dark, with slowand silent movements; and her features bore the look of indifference of those who livemuch within themselves. she exchanged a few words with m. destange and left the room withoutso much as glancing at shears. the afternoon dragged on monotonously. atfive o'clock, m. destange stated that he was going out. shears remained alone in the circulargallery that ran round the library, half-way between floor and ceiling. it was growingdark and he was preparing to leave, in his

turn, when he heard a creaking sound and,at the same time, felt that there was some one in the room. minute followed slowly uponminute. and, suddenly, he started: a shadow had emerged from the semidarkness, quite closeto him, on the balcony. was it credible? how long had this unseen person been keeping himcompany? and where did he come from? and the man went down the steps and turnedin the direction of a large oak cupboard. crouching on his knees behind the tapestrythat covered the rail of the gallery, shears watched and saw the man rummage among thepapers with which the cupboard was crammed. what was he looking for? and, suddenly, the door opened and mlle. destangeentered quickly, saying to some one behind

her: "so you have quite changed your mind aboutgoing out, father?... in that case, i'll turn on the light.... wait a minute ... don't move." the man closed the doors of the cupboard andhid himself in the embrasure of a broad window, drawing the curtains in front of him. howwas it that mlle. destange did not see him! how was it that she did not hear him? shecalmly switched on the electric light and stood back for her father to pass. they sat down side by side. mlle. destangeopened a book which she had brought with her and began to read.

"has your secretary gone?" she said, presently. "yes ... so it seems...." "are you still satisfied with him?" she continued,as if in ignorance of the real secretary's illness and of the arrival of stickmann inhis stead. "quite ... quite...." m. destange's head dropped on his chest. hefell asleep. a moment elapsed. the girl went on reading.but one of the window curtains was moved aside and the man slipped along the wall, towardthe door, an action which made him pass behind m. destange, but right in front of clotildeand in such a way that shears was able to

see him plainly. it was arsã¨ne lupin! the englishman quivered with delight. hiscalculations were correct, he had penetrated to the very heart of the mystery and lupinwas where he had expected to find him. clotilde, however, did not stir, althoughit was impossible that a single movement of that man had escaped her. and lupin was closeto the door and had his arm stretched toward the handle, when his clothes grazed a tableand something fell to the ground. m. destange woke with a start. in a moment, arsã¨ne lupinwas standing before him, smiling, hat in hand. "maxime bermond!" cried m. destange, in delight."my dear maxime!... what stroke of good luck brings you here to-day?"

"the wish to see you and mlle. destange." "when did you come back?" "yesterday." "are you staying to dinner?" "thank you, no, i am dining out with somefriends." "come to-morrow, then. clotilde, make himcome to-morrow. my dear maxime!... i was thinking of you only the other day." "really?" "yes, i was arranging my old papers, in thatcupboard, and i came across our last account."

"the avenue henri-martin account." "do you mean to say you keep all that wastepaper? what for?" the three moved into a little drawing-roomwhich was connected with the round library by a wide recess. "is it lupin?" thought shears, seized witha sudden doubt. all the evidence pointed to him, but it wasanother man as well; a man who resembled arsã¨ne lupin in certain respects and who, nevertheless,preserved his distinct individuality, his own features, look and complexion. dressed for the evening, with a white tieand a soft-fronted shirt following the lines

of his body, he talked gaily, telling storieswhich made m. destange laugh aloud and which brought a smile to clotilde's lips. and eachof these smiles seemed a reward which arsã¨ne lupin coveted and which he rejoiced at havingwon. his spirits and gaiety increased and, imperceptibly, at the sound of his clear andhappy voice, clotilde's face brightened up and lost the look of coldness that tendedto spoil it. "they are in love," thought shears. "but whaton earth can clotilde destange and maxime bermond have in common? does she know thatmaxime is arsã¨ne lupin?" he listened anxiously until seven o'clock,making the most of every word spoken. then, with infinite precautions, he came down andcrossed the side of the room where there was

no danger of his being seen from the drawing-room. once outside, after assuring himself thatthere was no motor-car or cab waiting, he limped away along the boulevard malesherbes.then he turned down a side street, put on the overcoat which he carried over his arm,changed the shape of his hat, drew himself up and, thus transformed, returned to thesquare, where he waited, with his eyes fixed on the door of the hã´tel destange. arsã¨ne lupin came out almost at once andwalked, down the rue de constantinople and the rue de londres, toward the centre of thetown. shears followed him at a hundred yards' distance.

it was a delicious moment for the englishman.he sniffed the air greedily, like a good hound scenting a fresh trail. it really seemed infinitelysweet to him to be following his adversary. it was no longer he that was watched, butarsã¨ne lupin, the invisible arsã¨ne lupin. he kept him, so to speak, fastened at theend of his eyes, as though with unbreakable bonds. and he revelled in contemplating, amongthe other pedestrians, this prey which belonged to him. but a curious incident soon struck him: inthe centre of the space that separated arsã¨ne lupin and himself, other people were goingin the same direction, notably two tall fellows in bowler hats on the left pavement, whiletwo others, in caps, were following on the

right pavement, smoking cigarettes as theywent. this might be only a coincidence. but shearswas more surprised when the four men stopped as lupin entered a tobacconist's shop; andstill more when they started again as he came out, but separately, each keeping to his ownside of the chaussã©e d'antin. "confound it!" thought shears. "he's beingshadowed!" the idea that others were on arsã¨ne lupin'strack, that others might rob him not of the glory—he cared little for that—but ofthe huge pleasure, the intense delight of conquering unaided the most formidable enemythat he had ever encountered: this idea exasperated him. and yet there was no possibility of amistake: the men wore that look of detachment,

that too-natural look which distinguishespersons who, while regulating their gait by another's, endeavour to remain unobserved. "does ganimard know more than he pretends?"muttered shears. "is he making game of me?" he felt inclined to accost one of the fourmen, with a view to acting in concert with him. but as they approached the boulevard,the crowd became denser: he was afraid of losing lupin and quickened his pace. he turnedinto the boulevard just as lupin had his foot on the step of the restaurant hongrois, atthe corner of the rue du helder. the door was open and shears, sitting on a bench onthe boulevard, on the opposite side of the road, saw him take his seat at a table laidwith the greatest luxury and decorated with

flowers, where he was warmly welcomed by threemen in evening clothes and two beautifully-dressed ladies who had been waiting for him. shears looked for the four rough fellows andsaw them scattered among the groups of people who were listening to the bohemian band ofthe neighbouring cafã©. strange to say, they appeared to be not nearly so much interestedin arsã¨ne lupin as in the people surrounding them. suddenly, one of them took a cigarette fromhis case and addressed a gentleman in a frock-coat and tall hat. the gentleman offered a lightfrom his cigar and shears received the impression that they were talking at greater length thanthe mere lighting of a cigarette demanded.

at last the gentleman went up the steps andglanced into the restaurant. seeing lupin, he walked up to him, exchanged a few wordswith him and selected a table close at hand; and shears realized that he was none otherthan the horseman of the avenue henri-martin. now he understood. not only was arsã¨ne notbeing shadowed, but these men were members of his gang! these men were watching overhis safety! they were his bodyguard, his satellites, his vigilant escort. wherever the master ranany danger, there his accomplices were, ready to warn him, ready to defend him. the fourmen were accomplices! the gentleman in the frock-coat was an accomplice! a thrill passed through the englishman's frame.would he ever succeed in laying hands on that

inaccessible person? the power representedby an association of this kind, ruled by such a chief, seemed boundless. he tore a leaf from his note-book, wrote afew lines in pencil, put the note in an envelope and gave it to a boy of fifteen who had laindown on the bench beside him: "here, my lad, take a cab and give this letterto the young lady behind the bar at the taverne suisse on the place du chã¢telet. be as quickas you can." he handed him a five-franc piece. the boywent off. half an hour elapsed. the crowd had increasedand shears but occasionally caught sight of lupin's followers. then some one grazed againsthim and a voice said in his ear:

"well, mr. shears, what can i do for you?" "is that you, m. ganimard?" "yes; i got your note. what is it?" "he's there." "what's that you say?" "over there ... inside the restaurant....move a little to the right.... do you see him?" "he is filling the glass of the lady on hisleft." "but that's not lupin."

"yes, it is." "i assure you.... and yet.... well, it maybe.... oh, the rascal, how like himself he is!" muttered ganimard, innocently. "and whoare the others? accomplices?" "no, the lady beside him is lady cliveden.the other is the duchess of cleath; and, opposite her, is the spanish ambassador in london." ganimard took a step toward the road. butshears held him back: "don't be so reckless: you are alone." "so is he." "no, there are men on the boulevard mountingguard.... not to mention that gentleman inside

the restaurant...." "but i have only to take him by the collarand shout his name to have the whole restaurant on my side, all the waiters...." "i would rather have a few detectives." "that would set lupin's friends off.... no,mr. shears, we have no choice, you see." he was right and shears felt it. it was betterto make the attempt and take advantage of the exceptional circumstances. he contentedhimself with saying to ganimard: "do your best not to be recognized beforeyou can help it." he himself slipped behind a newspaper-kiosk,without losing sight of arsã¨ne lupin who

was leaning over lady cliveden, smiling. the inspector crossed the street, lookingstraight before him, with his hands in his pockets. but, the moment he reached the oppositepavement, he veered briskly round and sprang up the steps. a shrill whistle sounded.... ganimard knockedup against the head-waiter, who suddenly blocked the entrance and pushed him back with indignation,as he might push back any intruder whose doubtful attire would have disgraced the luxury ofthe establishment. ganimard staggered. at the same moment, the gentleman in the frock-coatcame out. he took the part of the inspector and began a violent discussion with the head-waiter.both of them had hold of ganimard, one pushing

him forward, the other back, until, in spiteof all his efforts and angry protests, the unhappy man was hustled to the bottom of thesteps. a crowd gathered at once. two policemen, attractedby the excitement, tried to make their way through; but they encountered an incomprehensibleresistance and were unable to get clear of the shoulders that pushed against them, thebacks that barred their progress. and, suddenly, as though by enchantment, theway was opened!... the head-waiter, realizing his mistake, made the most abject apologies;the gentleman in the frock-coat withdrew his assistance; the crowd parted, the policemenpassed in; and ganimard rushed toward the table with the six guests.... there were onlyfive left! he looked round: there was no way

out except the door. "where is the person who was sitting here?"he shouted to the five bewildered guests. "yes, there were six of you.... where is thesixth?" "m. destro?" "no, no: arsã¨ne lupin!" a waiter stepped up: "the gentleman has just gone up to the mezzaninefloor." ganimard flew upstairs. the mezzanine floorconsisted of private rooms and had a separate exit to the boulevard!

"it's no use now," groaned ganimard. "he'sfar away by this time!" he was not so very far away, two hundred yardsat most, in the omnibus running between the bastille and the madeleine, which lumberedpeacefully along behind its three horses, crossing the place de l'opã©ra and going downthe boulevard des capucines. two tall fellows in bowler hats stood talking on the conductor'splatform. on the top, near the steps, a little old man sat dozing: it was holmlock shears. and, with his head swaying from side to side,rocked by the movement of the omnibus, the englishman soliloquized: "ah, if dear old wilson could see me now,how proud he would be of his chief!... pooh,

it was easy to foresee, from the moment whenthe whistle sounded that the game was up and that there was nothing serious to be done,except to keep a watch around the restaurant! but that devil of a man adds a zest to life,and no mistake!" on reaching the end of the journey, shearsleant over, saw arsã¨ne lupin pass out in front of his guards and heard him mutter: "at the ã‰toile." "the ã‰toile, just so: an assignation. i shallbe there. i'll let him go ahead in that motor-cab, while i follow his two pals in a four-wheeler." the two pals went off on foot, made for theã‰toile and rang at the door of no 40, rue

chalgrin, a house with a narrow frontage.shears found a hiding place in the shadow of a recess formed by the angle of that unfrequentedlittle street. one of the two windows on the ground flooropened and a man in a bowler hat closed the shutters. the window space above the shutterswas lit up. in ten minutes' time, a gentleman came andrang at the same door; and, immediately afterward, another person. and, at last, a motor-cabdrew up and shears saw two people get out: arsã¨ne lupin and a lady wrapped in a cloakand a thick veil. "the blonde lady, i presume," thought shears,as the cab drove away. he waited for a moment, went up to the house,climbed on to the window-ledge and, by standing

on tip-toe, succeeded in peering into theroom through that part of the window which the shutters failed to cover. arsã¨ne lupin was leaning against the chimneyand talking in an animated fashion. the others stood round and listened attentively. shearsrecognized the gentleman in the frock-coat and thought he recognized the head-waiterof the restaurant. as for the blonde lady, she was sitting in a chair, with her backturned toward him. "they are holding a council," he thought."this evening's occurrences have alarmed them and they feel a need to discuss things....oh, if i could only catch them all at one swoop!"

one of the accomplices moved and shears leaptdown and fell back into the shadow. the gentleman in the frock-coat and the head-waiter leftthe house. then the first floor was lit up and some one closed the window-shutters. itwas now dark above and below. "he and she have remained on the ground floor,"said holmlock to himself. "the two accomplices live on the first story." he waited during a part of the night withoutstirring from his place, fearing lest arsã¨ne lupin should go away during his absence. atfour o'clock in the morning, seeing two policemen at the end of the street, he went up to them,explained the position and left them to watch the house.

then he went to ganimard's flat in the ruepergolã¨se and told the servant to wake him. "i've got him again." "arsã¨ne lupin?" "if you haven't got him any better than youdid just now, i may as well go back to bed. however, let's go and see the commissary." they went to the rue mesnil and, from there,to the house of the commissary, m. decointre. next, accompanied by half a dozen men, theyreturned to the rue chalgrin. "any news?" asked shears of the two policemenwatching the house. "no, sir; none."

the daylight was beginning to show in thesky when the commissary, after disposing his men, rang and entered the lodge of the concierge.terrified by this intrusion, the woman, all trembling, said that there was no tenant onthe ground floor. "what do you mean; no tenant?" cried ganimard. "no, it's the people on the first floor, twogentlemen called leroux.... they have furnished the apartment below for some relations fromthe country...." "a lady and gentleman?" "did they come with them last night?" "they may have.... i was asleep.... i don'tthink so, though, for here's the key—they

didn't ask for it." with this key, the commissary opened the dooron the other side of the passage. the ground floor flat contained only two rooms: theywere empty. "impossible!" said shears. "i saw them bothhere." the commissary grinned: "i dare say; but they are not here now." "let us go to the first floor. they must bethere." "the first floor is occupied by two gentlemencalled leroux." "we will question the two gentleman calledleroux."

they all went upstairs and the commissaryrang. at the second ring, a man, who was none other than one of the bodyguards, appearedin his shirt-sleeves and, with a furious air: "well, what is it? what's all this noise about;what do you come waking people up for?" but he stopped in confusion: "lord bless my soul!... am i dreaming? why,it's m. decointre!... and you too, m. ganimard? what can i do for you?" there was a roar of laughter. ganimard wassplitting with a fit of merriment which doubled him up and seemed to threaten an apoplecticfit: "it's you, leroux!" he spluttered out. "oh,that's the best thing i ever heard: leroux,

arsã¨ne lupin's accomplice!... it'll be thedeath of me, i know it will!... and where's your brother, leroux? is he visible?" "are you there, edmond? it's m. ganimard cometo pay us a visit." another man came forward, at the sight ofwhom ganimard's hilarity increased still further: "well, i never! dear, dear me! ah, my friends,you're in a nice pickle.... who would have suspected it? it's a good thing that old ganimardkeeps his eyes open and still better that he has friends to help him ... friends whohave come all the way from england!" and, turning to shears, he said: "mr. shears, let me introduce victor leroux,detective-inspector, one of the best in the

iron brigade.... and edmond leroux, head-clerkin the finger-print department...." chapter v kidnapped holmlock shears restrained his feelings. whatwas the use of protesting, of accusing those two men? short of proofs, which he did notpossess and which he would not waste time in looking for, no one would take his word. with nerves on edge and fists tight-clenched,he had but one thought, that of not betraying his rage and disappointment before the triumphantganimard. he bowed politely to those two mainstays of society, the brothers leroux, and wentdownstairs.

in the hall he turned toward a small, lowdoor, which marked the entrance to the cellar, and picked up a small red stone: it was agarnet. outside, he looked up and read, close to thenumber of the house, the inscription: "lucien destange, architect, 1877." he saw the sameinscription on no. 42. "always that double outlet," he thought. "nos.40 and 42 communicate. why did i not think of it before? i ought to have stayed withthe policemen all night." and, addressing them, he said, pointing tothe door of the next house: "did two people go out by that door whilei was away?" "yes, sir; a lady and gentleman."

he took the arm of the chief-inspector andled him along: "m. ganimard, you have enjoyed too heartya laugh to be very angry with me for disturbing you like this ..." "oh, i'm not angry with you at all." "that's right. but the best jokes can't goon forever and i think we must put an end to this one." "i am with you." "this is our seventh day. it is absolutelynecessary that i should be in london in three days hence."

"i say! i say!" "i shall be there, though, and i beg you tohold yourself in readiness on tuesday night." "for an expedition of the same kind?" askedganimard, chaffingly. "yes, of the same kind." "and how will this one end?" "in lupin's capture." "you think so." "i swear it, on my honour." shears took his leave and went to seek a shortrest in the nearest hotel, after which, refreshed

and full of confidence, he returned to therue chalgrin, slipped two louis into the hand of the concierge, made sure that the brothersleroux were out, learned that the house belonged to a certain m. harmingeat and, carrying acandle, found his way down to the cellar through the little door near which he had picked upthe garnet. at the foot of the stairs, he picked up anotherof exactly the same shape. "i was right," he thought. "this forms thecommunication.... let's see if my skeleton-key opens the door of the cellar that belongsto the ground-floor tenant.... yes, capital.... now let's examine these wine-bins.... aha,here are places where the dust has been removed ... and footprints on the floor!..."

a slight sound made him prick up his ears.he quickly closed the door, blew out his candle and hid behind a stack of empty wine-cases.after a few seconds, he noticed that one of the iron bins was turning slowly on a pivot,carrying with it the whole of the piece of wall to which it was fastened. the light ofa lantern was thrown into the cellar. an arm appeared. a man entered. he was bent in two, like a man looking forsomething. he fumbled in the dust with his finger-tips, and, several times, he straightenedhimself and threw something into a cardboard box which he carried in his left hand. next,he removed the marks of his footsteps, as well as those left by lupin and the blondelady, and went back to the wine-bin.

he gave a hoarse cry and fell. shears hadleapt upon him. it was the matter of a moment and, in the simplest way possible, the manfound himself stretched on the floor, with his ankles fastened together and his wristsbound. the englishman stooped over him: "how much will you take to speak?... to tellwhat you know?" the man replied with so sarcastic a smilethat shears understood the futility of his question. he contented himself with exploringhis captive's pockets, but his investigations produced nothing more than a bunch of keys,a pocket-handkerchief and the little cardboard box used by the fellow and containing a dozengarnets similar to those which shears had

picked up. a poor booty! besides, what was he to do with the man? waituntil his friends came to his assistance and hand them all over to the police? what wasthe good? what advantage could he derive from it against lupin? he was hesitating, when a glance at the boxmade him come to a decision. it bore the address of lã©onard, jeweler, rue de la paix. he resolved simply to leave the man wherehe was. he pushed back the bin, shut the cellar-door and left the house. he went to a post-officeand telegraphed to m. destange that he could not come until the next day. then he wenton to the jeweler and handed him the garnets:

"madame sent me with these stones. they cameoff a piece of jewelry which she bought here." shears had hit the nail on the head. the jewelerreplied: "that's right.... the lady telephoned to me.she will call here herself presently." it was five o'clock before shears, standingon the pavement, saw a lady arrive, wrapped in a thick veil, whose appearance struck himas suspicious. through the shop-window he saw her place on the counter an old-fashionedbrooch set with garnets. she went away almost at once, did a few errandson foot, walked up toward clichy and turned down streets which the englishman did notknow. at nightfall, he followed her, unperceived by the concierge, into a five-storeyed housebuilt on either side of the doorway and therefore

containing numberless flats. she stopped ata door on the second floor and went in. two minutes later, the englishman put hisluck to the test and, one after the other, carefully tried the keys on the bunch of whichhe had obtained possession. the fourth key fitted the lock. through the darkness that filled them, hesaw rooms which were absolutely empty, like those of an unoccupied flat, with all thedoors standing open. but the light of a lamp filtered through from the end of a passage;and, approaching on tip-toe, through the glass door that separated the drawing-room froman adjoining bedroom he saw the veiled lady take off her dress and hat, lay them on theone chair which the room contained and slip

on a velvet tea-gown. and he also saw her walk up to the chimney-pieceand push an electric bell. and one-half of the panel to the right of the chimney movedfrom its position and slipped along the wall into the thickness of the next panel. as soonas the gap was wide enough, the lady passed through ... and disappeared, taking the lampwith her. the system was a simple one. shears employedit. he found himself walking in the dark, groping his way; but suddenly his face cameupon something soft. by the light of a match, he saw that he was in a little closet filledwith dresses and clothes hanging from metal bars. he thrust his way through and stoppedbefore the embrasure of a door closed by a

tapestry hanging or, at least, by the backof a hanging. and, his match being now burnt out, he saw light piercing through the looseand worn woof of the old stuff. then he looked. the blonde lady was there, before his eyes,within reach of his hand. she put out the lamp and turned on the electricswitch. for the first time, shears saw her face in the full light. he gave a start. thewoman whom he had ended by overtaking after so many shifts and turns was none other thanclotilde destange. clotilde destange, the murderess of barond'hautrec and the purloiner of the blue diamond! clotilde destange the mysterious friend ofarsã¨ne lupin! the blonde lady, in short!

"why, of course," he thought, "i'm the biggestblockhead that ever lived! just because lupin's friend is fair and clotilde dark, i neverthought of connecting the two women! as though the blonde lady could afford to continue fairafter the murder of the baron and the theft of the diamond!" shears saw part of the room, an elegant lady'sboudoir, adorned with light hangings and valuable knick-knacks. a mahogany settee stood on aslightly-raised platform. clotilde had sat down on it and remained motionless, with herhead between her hands. and soon he noticed that she was crying. great tears flowed downher pale cheeks, trickled by her mouth, fell drop by drop on the velvet of her bodice.and more tears followed indefinitely, as though

springing from an inexhaustible source. andno sadder sight was ever seen than that dull and resigned despair, which expressed itselfin the slow flowing of the tears. but a door opened behind her. arsã¨ne lupinentered. they looked at each other for a long time,without exchanging a word. then he knelt down beside her, pressed his head to her breast,put his arms round her; and there was infinite tenderness and great pity in the gesture withwhich he embraced the girl. they did not move. a soft silence united them, and her tearsflowed less abundantly. "i so much wanted to make you happy!" he whispered. "i am happy."

"no, for you're crying. and your tears breakmy heart, clotilde." yielding, in spite of herself, to the soundof his coaxing voice, she listened, greedy of hope and happiness. a smile softened herface, but, oh, so sad a smile! he entreated "don't be sad, clotilde; you have no reason,you have no right to be sad." she showed him her white, delicate, lissomhands, and said, gravely: "as long as these hands are mine, maxime,i shall be sad." "but why?" "they have taken life." maxime cried:

"hush, you must not think of that! the pastis dead; the past does not count." and he kissed her long white hands and shelooked at him with a brighter smile, as though each kiss had wiped out a little of that hideousmemory: "you must love me, maxime, you must, becauseno woman will ever love you as i do. to please you, i have acted, i am still acting not onlyaccording to your orders, but according to your unspoken wishes. i do things againstwhich all my instincts and all my conscience revolt; but i am unable to resist.... allthat i do i do mechanically, because it is of use to you and you wish it ... and i amready to begin again to-morrow ... and always." he said, bitterly:

"ah, clotilde, why did i ever mix you up inmy adventurous life? i ought to have remained the maxime bermond whom you loved five yearsago and not have let you know ... the other man that i am." she whispered very low! "i love that other man too; and i regret nothing." "yes, you regret your past life, your lifein the light of day." "i regret nothing, when you are there!" shesaid, passionately. "there is no such thing as guilt, no such thing as crime, when myeyes see you. what do i care if i am unhappy away from you and if i suffer and cry andloathe all that i do! your love wipes out

everything.... i accept everything.... butyou must love me!" "i do not love you because i must, clotilde,but simply because i love you." "are you sure?" she asked, trustingly. "i am as sure of myself as i am of you. only,clotilde, my life is a violent and feverish one and i cannot always give you as much timeas i should wish." she at once grew terrified. "what is it? a fresh danger? tell me, quick!" "oh, nothing serious as yet. still...." "still what...?"

"well, he is on our track." "shears?" "yes. it was he who set ganimard at me atthe restaurant hongrois. it was he who posted the two policemen in the rue chalgrin lastnight. the proof is that ganimard searched the house this morning and shears was withhim. besides...." "besides what?" "well, there is something more: one of ourmen is missing, jeanniot." "the concierge?" "why, i sent him to the rue chalgrin thismorning to pick up some garnets which had

fallen from my brooch." "there is no doubt about it, shears has caughthim in a trap." "not at all. the garnets were brought to thejeweler in the rue de la paix." "then what has become of jeanniot since?" "oh, maxime, i'm so frightened!" "there's no cause for alarm. but i admit thatthe position is very serious. how much does he know? where is he hiding? his strengthlies in his isolation. there is nothing to betray him." "then what have you decided on?"

"extreme prudence, clotilde. some time agoi made up my mind to move my things to the refuge you know of, the safe refuge. the interventionof shears hastens the need. when a man like shears is on a trail, we may take it thathe is bound to follow that trail to the end. so i have made all my preparations. the removalwill take place on the day after to-morrow, wednesday. it will be finished by midday.by two o'clock i shall be able myself to leave, after getting rid of the last vestige of ouroccupation, which is no small matter. until then ..." "yes...?" "we must not see each other and no one mustsee you, clotilde. don't go out. i fear nothing

for myself. but i fear everything where you'reconcerned." "it is impossible for that englishman to getat me." "everything is possible to him and i am noteasy in my mind. yesterday, when i was nearly caught by your father, i had come to searchthe cupboard which contains m. destange's old ledgers. there is danger there. thereis danger everywhere. i feel that the enemy is prowling in the shade and drawing nearerand nearer. i know that he is watching us ... that he is laying his nets around us.it is one of those intuitions which never fail me." "in that case," said she, "go, maxime, andthink no more about my tears. i shall be brave

and i will wait until the danger is over.good-bye, maxime." she gave him a long kiss. and she herselfpushed him outside. shears heard the sound of their voices grow fainter in the distance. boldly, excited by the need of action, towardand against everything, which had been stimulating him since the day before, he made his wayto a passage, at the end of which was a staircase. but, just as he was going down, he heard thesound of a conversation below and thought it better to follow a circular corridor whichbrought him to another staircase. at the foot of this staircase, he was greatly surprisedto see furniture the shape and position of which he already knew. a door stood half open.he entered a large round room. it was m. destange's

library. "capital! splendid!" he muttered. "i understandeverything now. the boudoir of clotilde, that is to say, the blonde lady, communicates withone of the flats in the next house and the door of that house is not in the place malesherbes,but in an adjoining street, the rue montchanin, if i remember right.... admirable! and nowi see how clotilde destange slips out to meet her sweetheart while keeping up the reputationof a person who never leaves the house. and i also see how arsã¨ne lupin popped out closeto me, yesterday evening, in the gallery: there must be another communication betweenthe flat next door and this library...." and he concluded, "another faked house. once again,no doubt, 'destange, architect!' and what

i must now do is to take advantage of my presencehere to examine the contents of the cupboard ... and obtain all the information i can aboutthe other faked houses." shears went up to the gallery and hid behindthe hangings of the rail. he stayed there till the end of the evening. a man-servantcame to put out the electric lights. an hour later, the englishman pressed the spring ofhis lantern and went down to the cupboard. as he knew, it contained the architect's oldpapers, files, plans, estimates and account-books. at the back stood a row of ledgers, arrangedin chronological order. he took down the more recent volumes one byone and at once looked through the index-pages, more particularly under the letter h. at last,finding the word "harmingeat" followed by

the number 63, he turned up page 63 and read: "harmingeat, 40, rue chalgrin." there followed a detailed statement of worksexecuted for this customer, with a view to the installation of a central heating-apparatusin his property. and in the margin was this note: "see file m. b." "i knew it," muttered shears. "file m. b.is the one i want. when i have been through that, i shall know the whereabouts of m. lupin'spresent abode." the small hours had struck before he foundfile m. b. it consisted of fifteen pages.

one was a copy of the page concerning m. harmingeatof the rue chalgrin. another contained a detailed account of works executed for m. vatinel,the owner of 25, rue clapeyron. a third was devoted to baron d'hautrec, 134, avenue henri-martin;a fourth to the chã¢teau de crozon; and the eleven others to different paris landlords. shears took down the list of eleven namesand addresses and then restored the papers to their place, opened a window and jumpedout into the deserted square, taking care to close the shutters behind him. on reaching his room at the hotel, he lithis pipe with the gravity which he always applied to that ceremony and, enveloped inclouds of smoke, studied the conclusions to

be drawn from file m. b., or, to be more exact,the file devoted to maxime bermond, alias arsã¨ne lupin. at eight o'clock, he sent ganimard an expressletter: "i shall probably call on you in the rue pergolã¨sethis morning and place in your charge a person whose capture is of the highest importance.in any case, stay at home to-night and until twelve o'clock to-morrow, wednesday, morning;and arrange to have thirty men at your disposal." then he went down the boulevard, picked outa motor-cab with a driver whose good-humoured but unintelligent face took his fancy anddrove to the place malesherbes, fifty yards beyond the hã´tel destange.

"close the hood, my man," he said, to thedriver, "turn up the collar of your fur, for it's a cold wind, and wait for me patiently.start your engine in an hour and a half from now. the moment i get in again, drive straightto the rue pergolã¨se." with his foot on the doorstep of the house,he had a last moment of hesitation. was it not a mistake to take so much trouble aboutthe blonde lady, when lupin was completing his preparations for departure? and wouldhe not have done better, with the aid of his list of houses, to begin by finding out wherehis adversary lived? "pooh!" he said. "when the blonde lady ismy prisoner, i shall be master of the situation." and he rang the bell.

he found m. destange waiting in the library.they worked together for a little while and shears was seeking a pretext to go up to clotilde'sroom, when the girl entered, said good-morning to her father, sat down in the little drawing-roomand began to write letters. from where he was sitting, shears could seeher as she bent over the table and, from time to time, meditated with poised pen and a thoughtfulface. he waited and then, taking up a volume, said to m. destange: "oh, this is the book which mlle. destangeasked me to give her when i found it." he went into the little room, stood in frontof clotilde, in such a way that her father could not see her, and said:

"i am m. stickmann, m. destange's new secretary." "oh?" she said, without moving. "has my fatherchanged his secretary?" "yes, mademoiselle, and i should like to speakto you." "take a seat, monsieur; i have just finished." she added a few words to her letter, signedit, sealed the envelope, pushed back her papers, took up the telephone, asked to be put onto her dressmaker, begged her to hurry on a travelling-cloak which she needed urgentlyand then, turning to shears: "i am at your service, monsieur. but cannotour conversation take place before my father?" "no, mademoiselle, and i will even entreatyou not to raise your voice. it would be better

that m. destange should not hear us." "better for whom?" "for you, mademoiselle." "i will not permit a conversation which myfather cannot hear." "and yet you must permit this one." they both rose, with their eyes fixed on eachother. and she said: "speak, monsieur." still standing, he began: "you must forgive me if i am inaccurate ina few less important particulars. i will vouch

for the general correctness of what i am goingto say." "no speeches, i beg. facts." he felt, from this abrupt interruption, thatthe girl was on her guard and he continued: "very well, i will come straight to the point.five years ago, your father happened to meet a m. maxime bermond, who introduced himselfas a contractor ... or an architect, i am not sure which. in any case, m. destange tooka liking to this young man and, as the state of his health no longer allowed him to attendto his business, he entrusted to m. bermond the execution of a few orders which he hadaccepted to please some old customers and which appeared to him to come within the scopeof his assistant's capacity."

shears stopped. it seemed to him that thegirl had grown paler. still, she answered with the greatest calmness. "i know nothing of the things about whichyou are talking, monsieur, and i am quite unable to see how they can interest me." "they interest you in so far, mademoiselle,that m. maxime bermond's real name, which you know as well as i do, is arsã¨ne lupin." she burst out laughing: "nonsense! arsã¨ne lupin? m. maxime bermond'sname is arsã¨ne lupin?" "as i have the honour to inform you, mademoiselle,and, since you refuse to understand me unless

i speak plainly, i will add that arsã¨ne lupin,to accomplish his designs, has found in this house a friend, more than a friend, a blindand ... passionately devoted accomplice." she rose and, betraying no emotion or, atleast, so little emotion that shears was impressed by her extraordinary self-control, said: "i do not know the reason for your behaviour,monsieur, and i have no wish to know it. i will ask you, therefore, not to add anotherword and to leave the room." "i had no intention, mademoiselle, of imposingmy presence upon you indefinitely," said shears, as calmly as herself. "only i have resolvednot to leave this house alone." "and who is going with you, monsieur?"

"you!" "i?" "yes, mademoiselle, we shall leave this housetogether, and you will accompany me without a word, without a protest." the strange feature of this scene was theabsolute coolness of the two adversaries. to judge by their attitudes and the tone oftheir voices, it might have been a courteous discussion between two people who differ inopinion, rather than an implacable duel between two powerful wills. through the great open recess, m. destangecould be seen in the round library, handling

his books with leisurely movements. clotilde sat down again with a slight shrugof the shoulders. holmlock shears took out his watch: "it is now half-past ten. we will start infive minutes." "and, if i refuse?" "if you refuse, i shall go to m. destangeand tell him ..." "what?" "the truth. i shall describe to him the falselife led by maxime bermond and the double life of his accomplice."

"of his accomplice?" "yes, of the one known as the blonde lady,the lady whose hair was once fair." "and what proofs will you give him?" "i shall take him to the rue chalgrin andshow him the passage which arsã¨ne lupin, when managing the works, made his men constructbetween nos. 40 and 42, the passage employed by the two of you on the night before last." "next?" "next, i shall take m. destange to maã®tredetinan's. we will go down the servants' staircase which you ran down, with arsã¨ne lupin, toescape ganimard. and we will both look for

the doubtless similar means of communicationwith the next house, which has its entrance on the boulevard des batignolles and not inthe rue clapeyron." "next, i shall take m. destange to the chã¢teaude crozon and it will be easy for him, who knows the nature of the works executed byarsã¨ne lupin at the time of the restoration of the chã¢teau, to discover the secret passageswhich arsã¨ne lupin made his men construct. he will find that these passages enabled theblonde lady to enter madame de crozon's room at night and take the blue diamond from thechimney and, a fortnight later, to enter herr bleichen's room and hide the blue diamondat the bottom of a flask ... a rather queer thing to do, i admit: perhaps it was a woman'spetty vengeance; i do not know and it makes

no difference." "next," said holmlock shears, in a more seriousvoice, "i shall take m. destange to 134, avenue henri-martin, and together we will try todiscover how baron d'hautrec...." "hush, hush!" stammered the girl, in suddendismay. "you must not...! do you dare to say it was i...? do you accuse me...?" "i accuse you of killing baron d'hautrec." "no, no; this is monstrous!" "you killed baron d'hautrec, mademoiselle.you entered his service under the name of antoinette brã©hat, with the intention ofrobbing him of the blue diamond, and you killed

him." again she murmured, breaking down and reducedto entreaties: "hush, monsieur, i beg.... as you know somuch, you must also know that i did not murder the baron." "i did not say that you murdered him, mademoiselle.baron d'hautrec was subject to fits of insanity which only så“ur auguste was able to check.she has told me this herself. he must have thrown himself upon you in her absence; andit was in the course of the ensuing struggle that you struck at him, in self-defence. appalledby what you had done, you rang the bell and fled, without even taking from his fingerthe blue diamond which you had come to secure.

a moment later, you returned with one of lupin'saccomplices, a man-servant in the next house, lifted the baron on to his bed and arrangedthe room ... but still without daring to take the blue diamond. that's what happened. therefore,i repeat, you did not murder the baron. and yet it was your hands that killed him." she was holding them clasped before her forehead,her slim, white, delicate hands, and she kept them long like that, motionless. then, uncrossingher fingers, she showed her sorrow-stricken face and said: "and you mean to tell all this to my father?" "yes; and i shall tell him that i have aswitnesses mlle. gerbois, who will recognize

the blonde lady, så“ur auguste, who will recognizeantoinette brã©hat, the comtesse de crozon, who will recognize mme. de rã©al. that iswhat i shall tell him." "you will not dare!" she said, recoveringher presence of mind, in the face of immediate danger. he rose and took a step toward the library.clotilde stopped him: "one moment, monsieur." she reflected and, now fully mistress of herself,asked, very calmly: "you are holmlock shears, are you not?" "what do you want with me?"

"what do i want? i have entered upon a contestwith arsã¨ne lupin from which i must emerge the winner. pending a result which cannotbe far distant, i am of opinion that a hostage as valuable as yourself will give me a considerableadvantage over my adversary. you shall go with me, therefore, mademoiselle, and i willplace you under the care of a friend of mine. as soon as my object is attained, you shallbe set free." "is that all?" "that is all. i do not belong to the policeof your country and consequently i claim no ... no justiciary rights." her mind appeared made up. however, she askedfor a moment's delay. her eyelids closed and

shears stood watching her, suddenly growncalm, almost indifferent to the perils that threatened her. "i wonder," thought the englishman, "if shebelieves herself to be in danger? probably not, with lupin to protect her. with lupinthere, nothing can happen to her, she thinks: lupin is omnipotent, lupin is infallible....mademoiselle," he said aloud, "i spoke of five minutes: it is now more than thirty." "may i go to my room, monsieur, and fetchmy things?" "if you like, mademoiselle, i will go andwait for you in the rue montchanin. i am a great friend of jeanniot, the concierge."

"ah, so you know...!" she said, with visibledismay. "i know a great many things." "very well. then i will ring." the servant brought her hat and cloak andshears said: "you must give m. destange some reason toexplain our departure and the reason must be enough, in case of need, to explain yourabsence for two or three days." "that is unnecessary. i shall be back presently." again, they exchanged a defiant glance, skeptical,both of them, and smiling. "how you trust him!" said shears.

"blindly." "whatever he does is right, is it not? whateverhe wishes is realized. and you approve of everything and are prepared to do everythingfor his sake." "i love him," she said, with a tremor of passion. "and you believe that he will save you?" she shrugged her shoulders and, going up toher father, told him: "i am robbing you of m. stickmann. we aregoing to the national library." "will you be back to lunch?" "perhaps ... or more likely not ... but don'tworry about me, in any case...."

and, in a firm voice, she said to shears: "i am ready, monsieur." "without reserve?" he whispered. "with my eyes closed." "if you try to escape, i shall shout and callfor help, you will be arrested and it will mean prison. don't forget that there is awarrant out against the blonde lady." "i swear to you on my honour that i will makeno attempt to escape." "i believe you. let us go." they left the house together, as he had foretold.

the motor-cab had turned round and was waitingin the square. they could see the driver's back and his cap, which was almost coveredby the upturned collar of his fur. as they approached, shears heard the humming of theengine. he opened the door, asked clotilde to step in and sat down beside her. the car started with a jerk and soon reachedthe outer boulevards, the avenue hoche, the avenue de la grande-armã©e. shears was thinking out his plans: "ganimard is at home.... i shall leave thegirl with him.... shall i tell him who she is? no, he would take her straight to thepolice-station, which would put everything

out. as soon as i am alone, i will consultthe m. b. list and set out on my chase. and, to-night, or to-morrow morning at latest,i shall go to ganimard, as arranged, and deliver arsã¨ne lupin and his gang to him." he rubbed his hands, glad to feel that hisobject was at last within his reach and to see that there was no serious obstacle inthe way. and, yielding to a need for expansion, which was not in keeping with his usual nature,he said: "forgive me, mademoiselle, for displayingso much satisfaction. it was a difficult fight and i find my success particularly agreeable." "a legitimate success, monsieur, in whichyou have every right to rejoice."

"thank you. but what a funny way we are going!didn't the man understand?" at that moment, they were leaving paris bythe porte de neuilly. what on earth!... after all, the rue pergolã¨se was not outside thefortifications! shears let down the glass: "i say, driver, you're going wrong.... ruepergolã¨se!..." the man made no reply. shears repeated, ina louder voice: "i'm telling you to go to the rue pergolã¨se." the man took no notice. "look here, my man, are you deaf? or are youdoing it on purpose?... this isn't where i

told you to go.... rue pergolã¨se, do youhear!... turn round at once and look sharp about it!" still no reply. the englishman began to bealarmed. he looked at clotilde: a queer smile was playing on the girl's lips. "what are you laughing at?" he stormed. "thisdoesn't affect ... it has nothing to say to...." "nothing in the very least," she replied. suddenly, he was taken aback by an idea. halfrising from his seat, he attentively scrutinized the man on the box. his shoulders were slimmer,his movements easier.... a cold sweat broke out on shears's forehead, his hands contracted,while the most hideous conviction forced itself

upon his mind: the man was arsã¨ne lupin. "well, mr. shears, what do you think of thislittle drive?" "it's delightful, my dear sir, really delightful,"replied shears. perhaps he had never in his life made a moretremendous effort than it cost him to utter those words without a tremor in his voice,without anything that could betray the exasperation that filled his whole being. but, the minuteafter, he was carried away by a sort of formidable reaction; and a torrent of rage and hatredburst its banks, overcame his will, and made him suddenly draw his revolver and point itat mlle. destange. "lupin, if you don't stop this minute, thissecond, i fire at mademoiselle!"

"i advise you to aim at the cheek if you wantto hit the temple," said lupin, without turning his head. clotilde called out: "don't go too fast, maxime! the pavement isvery slippery, and you know how timid i am!" she was still smiling, with her eyes fixedon the cobbles with which the road bristled in front of the car. "stop him, tell him to stop!" shouted shearsbeside himself with fury. "you can see for yourself that i am capable of anything!" the muzzle of the revolver grazed her hair.

"how reckless maxime is!" she murmured. "weare sure to skid, at this rate." shears replaced the revolver in his pocketand seized the handle of the door, preparing to jump out, in spite of the absurdity ofthe act. "take care, mr. shears," said clotilde. "there'sa motor-car behind us." he leant out. a car was following them, anenormous car, fierce-looking, with its pointed bonnet, blood-red in colour, and the fourmen in furs inside it. "ah," he said, "i'm well guarded! we musthave patience!" he crossed his arms on his chest, with theproud submission of those who bow and wait when fate turns against them. and while theycrossed the seine and tore through suresnes,

rueil and chatou, motionless and resigned,without anger or bitterness, he thought only of discovering by what miracle arsã¨ne lupinhad put himself in the driver's place. that the decent fellow whom he had picked out thatmorning on the boulevard could be an accomplice, posted there of set purpose, he refused toadmit. and yet arsã¨ne lupin must have received a warning and that only after the moment whenhe, shears, had threatened clotilde, for no one suspected his plan before. now from thatmoment clotilde and he had not left each other's presence. suddenly, he remembered the girl's telephoningto her dressmaker. and, all at once, he understood. even before he spoke, at the very moment whenhe asked for an interview as m. destange's

new secretary, she had scented danger, guessedthe visitor's name and object and, coolly, naturally, as though she were really doingwhat she appeared to do, had summoned lupin to her aid, under the pretense of speakingto one of her tradespeople and by means of a formula known to themselves alone. how arsã¨ne lupin had come, how that motor-cabin waiting, with its throbbing engine, had aroused his suspicion, how he had bribed thedriver: all this mattered little. what interested shears almost to the point of calming hisrage was the recollection of that moment in which a mere woman, a woman in love, it istrue, mastering her nerves, suppressing her instinct, controlling the features of herface and the expression of her eyes, had humbugged

old holmlock shears. what was he to do against a man served bysuch allies, a man who, by the sheer ascendancy of his authority, inspired a woman with sucha stock of daring and energy? they re-crossed the seine and climbed theslope of saint-germain; but, five hundred yards beyond the town, the cab slowed down.the other car came up with it and the two stopped alongside. there was no one about. "mr. shears," said lupin, "may i trouble youto change cars? ours is really so very slow!..." "certainly," said shears, all the more politely,as he had no choice. "will you also permit me to lend you thisfur, for we shall be going pretty fast, and

to offer you a couple of sandwiches?... yes,yes, take them: there's no telling when you will get any dinner." the four men had alighted. one of them cameup and, as he had taken off the goggles which disguised him, shears recognized the gentlemanin the frock-coat whom he had seen at the restaurant hongrois. lupin gave him his instructions: "take the cab back to the driver from whomi hired it. you will find him waiting in the first wine-shop on the right in the rue legendre.pay him the second thousand francs i promised him. oh, i was forgetting: you might givemr. shears your goggles!" he spoke a few words to mlle. destange, thentook his seat at the wheel and drove off,

with shears beside him and one of his menbehind. lupin had not exaggerated when saying thatthey would go "pretty fast." they travelled at a giddy pace from the first. the horizonrushed toward them, as though attracted by a mysterious force, and disappeared at thesame moment, as though swallowed up by an abyss into which other things—trees, houses,plains and forests—plunged with the tumultuous speed of a torrent rushing down to the poolbelow. shears and lupin did not exchange a word.above their heads, the leaves of the poplars made a great noise as of waves, punctuatedby the regular spacing of the trees. and town after town vanished from sight: mantes, vernon,gaillon. from hill to hill, from bon-secours

to canteleu, rouen, with her suburbs, herharbour, her miles upon miles of quays, rouen seemed no more than the high-street of a market-town.and they rushed through duclair, through caudebec, through the pays de caux, skimming over itshills and plains in their powerful flight, through lillebonne, through quille-beuf. and,suddenly, they were on the bank of the seine, at the end of a small quay, alongside whichlay a steam-yacht, built on sober and powerful lines, with black smoke curling up from herfunnel. the car stopped. they had covered over a hundredmiles in two hours. a man dressed in a blue pea-jacket came forwardand touched his gold-laced cap. "well done, captain!" said lupin. "did youget my telegram?"

"is the hirondelle ready?" "quite ready, sir." "in that case, mr. shears...?" the englishman looked around him, saw a groupof people seated outside a cafã©, another a little nearer, hesitated for a moment andthen, realizing that, before any one could interfere, he would be seized, forced on boardand packed off at the bottom of the hold, he crossed the foot-plank and followed lupininto the captain's cabin. it was roomy, specklessly clean and shonebrightly with its varnished wainscoting and gleaming brass.

lupin closed the door and, without beatingabout the bush, said to shears, almost brutally: "tell me exactly how much you know." "everything." "everything? i want details." his voice had lost the tone of politeness,tinged with irony, which he adopted toward the englishman. instead, it rang with theimperious accent of the master who is accustomed to command and accustomed to see every onebow before his will, even though it be a holmlock shears. they eyed each other now from head to footas enemies, declared and passionate enemies.

lupin resumed, with a touch of nervousness: "you have crossed my path, sir, on severaloccasions. each occasion has been one too many; and i am tired of wasting my time avoidingthe traps you lay for me. i warn you, therefore, that my conduct toward you will depend uponyour answer. how much exactly do you know?" "everything, i tell you." arsã¨ne lupin mastered his annoyance and jerkedout: "i will tell you what you know. you know that,under the name of maxime bermond, i ... 'touched up' fifteen houses built by m. destange." "of those fifteen houses, you know four."

"and you have a list of the eleven others." "you made out the list at m. destange's, lastnight, no doubt." "and, as you presume that, among those elevenproperties, there must inevitably be one which i keep for my own needs and those of my friends,you have instructed ganimard to take the field and discover my retreat." "i mean that i am acting alone and that iintended to take the field alone." "so i have nothing to fear, seeing that ihave you in my hands." "you have nothing to fear so long as i remainin your hands." "you mean to say that you will not remain?"

"i do." arsã¨ne lupin went up to holmlock shears andplaced his hand very gently on the englishman's shoulder: "listen to me, sir. i am not in the mood forargument and you, unfortunately for yourself, are not in a position to check me. let usput an end to this." "yes, let us." "you shall give me your word of honour notto attempt to escape from this boat until she reaches english waters." "i give you my word of honour that i shallattempt to escape by every means in my power,"

said shears, nothing daunted. "but, dash it all, you know i have only tospeak a word to reduce you to helplessness! all these men obey me blindly. at a sign fromme, they will put a chain round your neck...." "chains can be broken." "and throw you overboard at ten miles fromthe coast." "i can swim." "well said," cried lupin, laughing. "heavenforgive me, but i lost my temper! accept my apology, maã®tre ... and let us conclude.will you allow me to seek the necessary measures for my safety and that of my friends?"

"any measures you like. but they are useless." "agreed. still, you will not mind if i takethem?" "it's your duty." "to work, then." lupin opened the door and called the captainand two of the crew. the latter seized the englishman and, after searching him, boundhis legs together and tied him down in the captain's berth. "that will do," ordered lupin. "really, sir,nothing short of your obstinancy and the exceptional gravity of the circumstances would have allowedme to venture...."

the sailors withdrew. lupin said to the captain: "captain, one of the crew must remain in thecabin to wait on mr. shears and you yourself must keep him company as much as you can.let him be treated with every consideration. he is not a prisoner, but a guest. what isthe time by your watch, captain?" "five minutes past two." lupin looked at his own watch and at a clockwhich hung on the cabin-wall: "five minutes past two?... our watches agree.how long will it take you to reach southampton?" "nine hours, without hurrying." "make it eleven. you must not touch land beforethe departure of the steamer which leaves

southampton at midnight and is due at thehavre at eight in the morning. you understand, captain, do you not? i repeat: it would beexceedingly dangerous for us all if this gentleman returned to france by the steamer; and youmust not arrive at southampton before one o'clock in the morning." "very well, sir." "good-bye, maã®tre," said lupin, turning toshears. "we shall meet next year, in this world or another." "let's say to-morrow." a few minutes later, shears heard the cardrive away and the engines of the hirondelle

at once began to throb with increased force.the yacht threw off her moorings. by three o'clock they had left the estuary of the seineand entered the channel. at that moment, holmlock shears lay sound asleep in the berth to whichhe was fastened down. on the following morning, the tenth and lastday of the war between the two great rivals, the ã‰cho de france published this deliciousparagraph: "a decree of expulsion was pronounced by arsã¨nelupin yesterday against holmlock shears, the english detective. the decree was publishedat noon and executed on the same day. shears was landed at southampton at one o'clock thismorning." chapter vi

the second arrest of arsãˆne lupin by eight o'clock on wednesday morning, a dozenpantechnicon vans were blocking the rue crevaux from the avenue du bois de boulogne to theavenue bougeaud. m. fã©lix davey was leaving the flat which he occupied on the fourth floorof no. 8. and, by a sheer coincidence—for the two gentlemen were not acquainted—m.dubreuil, the expert, who had knocked into one the fifth-floor flat of no. 8 and thefifth-floor flats of the two adjoining houses, had selected the same day on which to sendoff the collection of furniture and antiques which used to be visited daily by one or otherof his many foreign correspondents. a peculiarity which attracted notice in theneighbourhood, but which was not mentioned

until later, was that none of the twelve vansbore the name and address of the firm of removers and that none of the men in charge of themloitered in the wine-shops round about. they worked to such good purpose that all was overby eleven o'clock. nothing remained but those piles of old papers and rags which are alwaysleft behind in the corners of empty rooms. m. fã©lix davey was a young man of smart appearance,dressed in the latest fashion, but carrying a heavily-weighted cane which seemed to indicateunusual muscular strength on the part of its owner. he walked away quietly and sat downon a bench in the cross alley which intersects the avenue du bois, opposite the rue pergolã¨se.beside him sat a young woman, clad in the costume of the lower middle-class and readingher paper, while a child played with its spade

in the sand beside her. presently, fã©lix davey said to the woman,without turning his head: "ganimard?" "went out at nine o'clock this morning." "where to?" "police headquarters." "alone?" "no telegram last night?" "do they still trust you at the house?"

"yes. i do odd work for madame ganimard andshe tells me all her husband does.... we spent the morning together." "good. continue to come here at eleven everymorning, until further orders." he rose and walked to the pavillon chinois,near the porte dauphine, where he took a frugal meal: two eggs, some vegetables and a littlefruit. then he returned to the rue crevaux and said to the concierge: "i am going to have a look round upstairsand then i'll give you the keys." he finished his inspection with the room whichhe used as a study. there he took hold of the end of a jointed gas-bracket which wasfixed beside the chimney, unscrewed the brass

nozzle, fitted a little funnel-shaped instrumentto it and blew up the pipe. a faint whistle sounded in reply. puttingthe pipe to his mouth, he whispered: "any one there, dubreuil?" "can i come up?" he replaced the bracket, saying, as he didso: "where will progress stop? our age teems withlittle inventions that make life really charming and picturesque. and so amusing too ... especiallywhen a man knows the game of life as i know he touched one of the marble mouldings ofthe mantel-piece and made it swing round on a pivot. the marble slab itself moved andthe mirror above it slid between invisible

grooves, revealing a yawning gap which containedthe lower steps of a staircase built in the body of the chimney itself. it was all veryclean, in carefully-polished iron and white porcelain tiles. he climbed up to the fifth floor, which hada similar opening over the mantel-piece, and found m. dubreuil awaiting him: "is everything finished here?" "all cleared up?" "the staff?" "all gone, except the three men keeping watch."

"let's go up." they climbed by the same way to the servants'floor and emerged in a garret where they found three men, one of whom was looking out ofthe window. "any news?" "no, governor." "is the street quiet?" "i shall leave for good in ten minutes....you will go too. in the meantime, if you notice the least suspicious movement in the street,let me know." "i've got my finger on the alarm-bell governor."

"dubreuil, did you remember to tell the removersnot to touch the bell-wires?" "yes. they work perfectly." "that's all right, then." the two gentlemen returned to fã©lix davey'sflat. and davey, after readjusting the marble moulding, exclaimed, gaily: "dubreuil, i should love to see the facesof those who discover all these wonderful contrivances: alarm-bells, a network of electricwires and speaking-tubes, invisible passages, sliding floor-boards, secret staircases!...regular pantomime machinery!" "what an advertisement for arsã¨ne lupin!"

"we could very well have done without theadvertisement. it seems a pity to leave so fine an installation. we shall have to beginall over again, dubreuil ... and upon a new plan, of course, for it never does to repeatone's self. confound that shears!" "he's not come back, i suppose?" "how could he? there's only one boat fromsouthampton, which leaves at midnight. from the havre, there's only one train, which leavesat eight in the morning and arrives at eleven three. once he has not taken the midnightsteamer—and he has not, for my orders to the captain were formal—he can't reach francetill this evening, via newhaven and dieppe." "if he comes back!"

"shears never throws up the game. he willcome back, but it will be too late. we shall be far away." "and mlle. destange?" "i am to meet her in an hour." "at her house?" "no, she won't go home for a few days, untilthe storm has blown over ... and i am able to look after her more thoroughly.... butyou must hurry, dubreuil. it will take a long time to ship all the cases and you will bewanted on the wharf." "you're sure we are not being watched?"

"whom by? i was never afraid of any one butshears." dubreuil went away. fã©lix davey took a lastwalk round the flat, picked up a torn letter or two and then, seeing a piece of chalk,he took it, drew a large circle on the dark wall-paper of the dining room, and wrote,after the style of a commemorative tablet: arsãˆne lupin, gentleman burglar, lived here for 5 years at the commencement of the twentieth century.this little joke seemed to cause him a lively satisfaction. he whistled gaily as he lookedat it and cried:

"now that i have put myself right with thehistorians of the future generations, let's be off! hurry up, maã®tre holmlock shears!in three minutes i shall have left my lair, and your defeat will be absolute.... two minutesmore! you're keeping me waiting, maã®tre!... one minute more! aren't you coming? very well,i proclaim your downfall and my apotheosis.... with which last words i proceed to make myselfscarce. farewell, o kingdom of arsã¨ne lupin! i shall not look upon you again. farewell,ye five-and-fifty rooms of the six flats over which i reigned! farewell, austere and humbledwelling!" a bell cut short his lyrical effusion, a short,shrill, strident bell, twice interrupted, twice resumed and then ceasing. it was thealarm-bell.

what could it mean? some unexpected danger?ganimard? surely not!... he was on the point of making for his studyand escaping. but first he turned to the window. there was no one in the street. was the enemyalready in the house, then? he listened and seemed to distinguish confused sounds. withoutfurther hesitation he ran to his study and, as he crossed the threshold, heard the soundof a latchkey fumbling at the lock of the hall-door. "by jove!" he muttered. "i have only justtime. the house may be surrounded.... no use trying the servants' staircase.... fortunately,the chimney...." he pushed the moulding smartly: it did notmove. he exerted greater force: it did not

move. at the same moment, he received the impressionthat the outer door was opening and that steps sounded. "curse it all!" he swore. "i'm lost, if thisconfounded spring...." his fingers clutched the moulding; he boreupon it with all his weight. nothing moved, nothing! by some incredible bad luck, by areally bewildering piece of malice on the part of fate, the spring, which was workingonly a moment before, now refused to work! he persisted madly, convulsively. the blockof marble remained inert, motionless. curse it! was it conceivable that this stupid obstacleshould bar his way? he struck the marble,

struck it furious blows with his fists, hammeredit, insulted it.... "why, m. lupin, is something not going asyou wish?" lupin turned round, terror-stricken. holmlockshears stood before him. holmlock shears! lupin gazed at him, blinkinghis eyes, as though smarting under a cruel vision. holmlock shears in paris! holmlockshears, whom he had packed off to england the day before, as he might a compromisingparcel, stood there before him, triumphant and free! ah, for this impossible miracleto be performed in despite of arsã¨ne lupin's will there must have been a revolution ofthe laws of nature, a victory of all that is illogical and abnormal! holmlock shearsstanding opposite him!

and the englishman, resorting to irony inhis turn, said, with that supercilious politeness with which his adversary had so often lashedhim: "m. lupin, believe me, from this minute ishall cease to remember the night you made me spend in baron d'hautrec's house, ceaseto remember my friend wilson's mishaps, cease to remember how i was kidnapped by motor-car,cease to remember the sea-voyage which i have just taken, fastened down, by your orders,to an uncomfortable berth. this minute wipes out all. i forget everything. i am rewarded,amply rewarded." lupin did not speak. the englishman added: "don't you think so yourself?"

he appeared to be insisting, as though demandingan assent, a sort of receipt with regard to the past. after a moment's reflection, during whichthe englishman felt himself searched and fathomed to the very bottom of his soul, lupin said: "i presume, sir, that your present actionrests upon serious motives?" "extremely serious motives." "the fact of your escaping from my captainand his crew is only a secondary incident in our struggle. but the fact of your beinghere, before me, alone, do you understand, alone in the presence of arsã¨ne lupin, makesme believe that your revenge is as complete

as possible." "it is as complete as possible." "this house...?" "surrounded." "the two next houses...?" "the flat above this...?" "the three flats on the fifth floor whichwere occupied by m. dubreuil are invested." "so that...?" "so that you are caught, m. lupin, irredeemablycaught."

lupin now experienced the same feelings thathad stirred shears during his motor-car drive: the same concentrated rage, the same rebellion;but also, when all was said and done, the same sense of loyalty which compelled himto bow before the force of circumstances. both were equally strong: both alike werebound to accept defeat as a temporary evil, to be received with resignation. "we are quits, sir," he said, bluntly. the englishman seemed delighted at this confession.the two men were silent. then lupin, already master of himself, resumed with a smile: "and i am not sorry. it was becoming wearisometo win every thrust. i had only to put out

my arm to hit you full in the chest. thistime, you score one. well, hit, maã®tre!" he laughed whole-heartedly. "at last we shallhave some fun! lupin is caught in the trap. how will he get out?... caught in the trap!...what an adventure!... ah, maã®tre, i have to thank you for a grand emotion. this iswhat i call life!" he pressed his clenched fists to his templesas though to restrain the ungovernable joy that was bubbling up within him; and he alsohad gestures like those of a child amusing itself beyond its power of endurance. at last, he went up to the englishman: "and now, what are you here for?"

"what am i here for?" "yes. ganimard is outside, with his men. whydoes he not come in?" "i asked him not to." "and he consented?" "i called in his services only on the expresscondition that he would be led by me. besides, he believes that m. fã©lix davey is merelyan accomplice of lupin's." "then i will repeat my question under anotherform. why did you come in alone?" "i wanted to speak to you first." "aha! you want to speak to me!"

the idea seemed to please lupin greatly. thereare circumstances in life in which we much prefer words to deeds. "mr. shears, i am sorry not to have a chairto offer you. does this broken box suit you? or the window-ledge? i am sure a glass ofbeer would be acceptable.... do you like it light or dark?... but do sit down, i beg...." "never mind that: let us talk." "i am listening." "i shall not be long. the object of my stayin france was not to effect your arrest. i was obliged to pursue you, because no othermeans offered of attaining my real object."

"which was?" "to recover the blue diamond." "the blue diamond!" "certainly; because the one discovered inherr bleichen's tooth-powder flask was not the real one." "just so. the real one was posted by the blondelady. i had an exact copy made; and as, at that time, i had designs upon the comtessede crozon's other jewels and as the austrian consul was already under suspicion, the aforesaidblonde lady, lest she should be suspected in her turn, slipped the imitation diamondinto the aforesaid consul's luggage."

"while you kept the real one." "quite right." "i want that diamond." "impossible. i'm sorry." "i have promised it to the comtesse de crozon.i mean to have it." "how can you have it, seeing that it's inmy possession?" "i mean to have it just because it is in yourpossession." "you mean that i shall give it back to you?" "voluntarily?"

"i will buy it of you." lupin had a fit of merriment: "any one can tell what country you come from!you treat this as a matter of business." "it is a matter of business." "and what price do you offer?" "the liberty of mlle. destange." "her liberty? but i am not aware that sheis under arrest." "i shall give m. ganimard the necessary information.once deprived of your protection, she will be taken also."

lupin burst out laughing again: "my dear sir, you are offering me what youdo not possess. mlle. destange is safe and fears nothing. i want something else." the englishman hesitated, obviously embarrassedand flushing slightly. then he put his hand brusquely on his adversary's shoulder: "and, if i offered you...?" "my liberty?" "no ... but, still, i might leave the room,to arrange with m. ganimard...." "and leave me to think things over?"

"well, what on earth would be the good ofthat? this confounded spring won't work," said lupin, irritably pushing the mouldingof the mantel. he stifled an exclamation of surprise: thistime, freakish chance had willed that the block of marble should move under his fingers!safety, flight became possible. in that case, why submit to holmlock shears's conditions? he walked to and fro, as though reflectingupon his answer. then he, in his turn, put his hand on the englishman's shoulder: "after due consideration, mr. shears, i preferto settle my little affairs alone." "still...."

"no, i don't want anybody's help." "when ganimard has you, it will be up withyou. they won't let you go again." "who knows?" "come, this is madness. every outlet is watched." "one remains." "the one i shall select." "words! your arrest may be looked upon aseffected." "it is not effected." "so...?"

"so i shall keep the blue diamond." shears took out his watch: "it is ten minutes to three. at three o'clock,i call ganimard." "that gives us ten minutes to chat in. letus make the most of our time, mr. shears, and tell me, to satisfy the curiosity by whichi am devoured: how did you procure my address and my name of fã©lix davey?" keeping a watchful eye on lupin, whose good-humourmade him feel uneasy, shears gladly consented to give this little explanation, which flatteredhis vanity, and said: "i had your address from the blonde lady."

"clotilde?" "yes. you remember ... yesterday morning ... wheni meant to carry her off in the motor-cab, she telephoned to her dressmaker." "so she did." "well, i understood later that the dressmakerwas yourself. and, last night, in the boat, thanks to an effort of memory which is perhapsone of the things of which i am most proud, i succeeded in recollecting the last two figuresof your telephone number: 73. in this way, as i possessed the list of the houses whichyou had 'touched up,' it was easy for me, on my arrival in paris at eleven o'clock thismorning, to look through the telephone directory

until i discovered the name and address ofm. fã©lix davey. the name and address once known, i called in the aid of m. ganimard." "admirable! first-rate! i make you my bow!but what i can't quite grasp is that you took the train at the havre. how did you manageto escape from the hirondelle?" "i did not escape." "you gave the captain orders not to reachsouthampton until one o'clock. well, they landed me at twelve and i caught the havreboat." "the captain played me false? impossible." "he did not play you false."

"what then...?" "it was his watch." "his watch?" "yes, i put his watch on an hour." "how?" "the only way in which one can put a watchon, by turning the winder. we were sitting together chatting and i told him things thatinterested him.... by jove, he noticed nothing!" "well done; well done! it's a good trick andi must remember it. but what about the cabin clock?"

"oh, the clock was more difficult, for mylegs were bound: but the sailor who was put in charge of me whenever the captain wenton deck kindly consented to give the hands a push." "the sailor? nonsense! do you mean to say,he consented...?" "oh, he did not know the importance of whathe was doing! i told him i must, at all costs, catch the first train to london and ... heallowed himself to be persuaded...." "in consideration...." "in consideration of a little present ... whichthe decent fellow, however, intends faithfully to send to you."

"what present?" "a mere nothing." "well, but what?" "the blue diamond." "yes, the imitation one, which you substitutedfor the countess's diamond and which she left in my hands...." arsã¨ne lupin gave a sudden and tumultuousburst of laughter. he seemed ready to die: his eyes were wet with tears: "oh, what a joke! my faked diamond handedback to the sailor! and the captain's watch!

and the hands of the clock!..." never before had holmlock shears felt thestruggle between arsã¨ne lupin and himself grow so intense as now. with his prodigiousintuition, he guessed that, under this excessive gaiety, lupin was concentrating his formidablemind and collecting all his faculties. lupin had gradually drawn closer. the englishmanstepped back and slipped his fingers, as though absent-mindedly, into his pocket: "it's three o'clock, m. lupin." "three o'clock already? what a pity!... wewere having such fun!" "i am waiting for your answer."

"my answer? goodness me, what a lot you want!so this finishes the game. with my liberty for the stakes!" "or the blue diamond." "very well.... it's your lead. what do youdo?" "i mark the king," said shears, firing a shotwith his revolver. "and here's my hand," retorted arsã¨ne, hurlinghis fist at the englishman. shears had fired at the ceiling, to summonganimard, the need for whose intervention now seemed urgent. but arsã¨ne's fist caughthim full in the wind and he turned pale and staggered back. lupin gave one bound towardthe chimney and the marble slab moved....

too late! the door opened. "surrender, lupin! if not...." ganimard, who had doubtless been posted nearerthan lupin thought, stood there, with his revolver aimed at him. and, behind ganimard,ten men, twenty men crowded upon one another's heels, powerful, ruthless fellows, preparedto beat lupin down like a dog at the least sign of resistance. he made a quiet gesture: "hands off there! i surrender." and he crossed his arms over his chest.

a sort of stupor followed. in the room strippedof its furniture and hangings, arsã¨ne lupin's words seemed drawn-out like an echo: "i surrender!" the words sounded incredible. the others wereexpecting to see him vanish suddenly down a trap or a panel of the wall to fall backand once more to hide him from his assailants. and he surrendered! ganimard stepped forward and, greatly excited,with all the gravity that the act demanded, brought his hand slowly down upon his adversary'sshoulder and enjoyed the infinite satisfaction of saying:

"lupin, i arrest you." "brrrrr!" shivered lupin. "you make me feelquite overcome, my dear ganimard. what a solemn face! one would think you were making a speechover a friend's grave. come, drop these funereal airs!" "i arrest you." "you seem quite flabbergasted! in the nameof the law, of which he is a faithful limb, chief-inspector ganimard arrests wicked arsã¨nelupin. it is an historic moment and you grasp its full importance.... and this is the secondtime a similar fact occurs. bravo, ganimard; you will do well in your career!"

and he held out his wrists for the handcuffs.... they were fastened on almost solemnly. thedetectives, in spite of their usual roughness and the bitterness of their resentment againstlupin, acted with reserve and discretion, astounded as they were at being allowed totouch that intangible being. "my poor lupin," he sighed, "what would yoursmart friends say if they saw you humbled like this!" he separated his wrists with a growing andcontinuous effort of every muscle. the veins on his forehead swelled. the links of thechain dug into his skin. "now then!" he said.

the chain snapped and broke in two. "another, mates: this one's no good." they put two pairs on him. he approved: "that's better. you can't be too careful." then, counting the detectives, he continued: "how many of you are there, my friends? twenty-five?thirty? that's a lot.... i can't do anything against thirty. ah, if there had been onlyfifteen of you!" he really had a manner about him, the mannerof a great actor playing his instinctive, spirited part impertinently and frivolously.shears watched him as a man watches a fine

sight of which he is able to appreciate everybeauty and every shade. and he absolutely received the strange impression that the strugglewas an equal one between those thirty men on the one hand, backed up by all the formidablemachinery of the law, and that single being on the other, fettered and unarmed. the twosides were evenly matched. "well, maã®tre," said lupin, "this is yourwork. thanks to you, lupin is going to rot on the damp straw of the cells. confess thatyour conscience is not quite easy and that you feel the pangs of remorse." the englishman gave an involuntary shrug,as though to say: "you had the chance...."

"never! never!" exclaimed lupin. "give youback the blue diamond? ah, no, it has cost me too much trouble already! i value it, yousee. at the first visit i have the honour of paying you in london, next month, i daresay,i will tell you why.... but shall you be in london next month? would you rather i metyou in vienna? or st. petersburg?" he started. suddenly, an electric bell rangjust below the ceiling. and, this time, it was not the alarm-bell, but the bell of thetelephone, which had not been removed and which stood between the two windows. the telephone! ah, who was going to fall intothe trap laid by an odious chance? arsã¨ne lupin made a furious move toward the instrument,as though he would have smashed it to atoms

and, in so doing, stifled the unknown voicethat wished to speak to him. but ganimard took the receiver from its hook and bent down: "hullo!... hullo!... 648.73.... yes, that'sright." with a brisk gesture of authority, shearspushed him aside, took the two receivers and put his handkerchief over the mouthpiece tomake the sound of his voice less distinct. at that moment, he glanced at lupin. and thelook which they exchanged showed them that the same thought had struck them both andthat they both foresaw to the end the consequences of that possible, probable, almost certainsupposition: it was the blonde lady telephoning. she thought that she was telephoning to fã©lixdavey, or, rather, maxime bermond; and she

was about to confide in holmlock shears! and the englishman repeated: "hullo!... hullo!..." a pause and shears: "yes, it's i; maxime." the drama took shape forthwith, with tragicprecision. lupin, the mocking, indomitable lupin, no longer even thought of concealinghis anxiety and, with features pale as death, strove to hear, to guess. and shears continued,in reply to the mysterious voice: "yes, yes, it's all finished and i was justgetting ready to come on to you, as arranged....

where? why, where you are.... isn't that best?" he hesitated, seeking his words, and thenstopped. it was evident that he was trying to draw out the girl without saying too muchhimself and that he had not the least idea where she was. besides, ganimard's presenceseemed to hinder him.... oh, if some miracle could have cut the thread of that diabolicalconversation! lupin called for it with all his might, with all his strained nerves! and shears went on: "hullo!... hullo!... can't you hear?... it'svery bad at this end too ... and i can hardly make out.... can you hear me now? well ... onsecond thoughts ... you had better go home....

oh, no, there's no danger at all.... why,he's in england! i've had a telegram from southampton!" the irony of the words! shears uttered themwith an inexpressible sense of satisfaction. and he added. "so go at once, dear, and i shall be withyou soon." he hung up the receivers. "m. ganimard, i propose to borrow three ofyour men." "it's for the blonde lady, i suppose?" "do you know who she is, where she is?"

"by jove! a fine capture! she and lupin ... thatcompletes the day's work. folenfant, take two men and go with mr. shears." the englishman walked away, followed by thethree detectives. the end had come. the blonde lady also wasabout to fall into shears's hands. thanks to his wonderful persistency, thanks to theaid of fortunate events, the battle was turning to victory for him and irreparable disasterfor lupin. "mr. shears!" the englishman stopped: "yes, m. lupin?"

lupin seemed completely crushed by this lastblow. his forehead was wrinkled; he was worn-out and gloomy. yet he drew himself up, with arevival of energy; and, in spite of all, exclaimed, in a voice of glad unconcern: "you must admit that fate is dead againstme. just now, it prevented me from escaping by the chimney and delivered me into yourhands. this moment, it has made use of the telephone to make you a present of the blondelady. i bow before its decrees." "meaning...?" "meaning that i am prepared to reopen negotiations." shears took the inspector aside and beggedpermission, but in a tone that allowed of

no refusal, to exchange a few words with lupin.then he walked across to him. the momentous conversation took place. it opened in short,nervous phrases: "mlle. destange's liberty." "you know the price?" "and you agree?" "i agree to all your conditions." "ah!" exclaimed the astonished englishman."but ... you refused just now ... for yourself...." "it was a question of myself, mr. shears.now it involves a woman ... and a woman whom i love. you see, we have very peculiar ideasabout these things in france, and it does

not follow that, because a man's name is lupin,he will act differently: on the contrary!" he said this quite simply. shears gave himan imperceptible nod and whispered: "where is the blue diamond?" "take my cane, over there, in the chimneycorner. hold the knob in one hand and turn the iron ferrule with the other." shears took the cane, turned the ferrule and,as he turned it, perceived that the knob became unscrewed. inside the knob was a ball of putty.inside the putty a diamond. he examined it. it was the blue diamond. "mlle. destange is free, m. lupin."

"free in the future as in the present? shehas nothing to fear from you?" "nor from any one else." "whatever happens?" "whatever happens. i have forgotten her nameand where she lives." "thank you. and au revoir. for we shall meetagain, mr. shears, shall we not?" "i have no doubt we shall." a more or less heated explanation followedbetween the englishman and ganimard and was cut short by shears with a certain roughness: "i am very sorry, m. ganimard, that i can'tagree with you. but i have no time to persuade

you now. i leave for england in an hour." "but ... the blonde lady?" "i know no such person." "only a moment ago...." "you must take it or leave it. i have alreadycaught lupin for you. here is the blue diamond ... which you may have the pleasure of handingto the countess yourself. i can't see that you have anything to complain of." "but the blonde lady?" "find her."

he settled his hat on his head and walkedaway with a brisk step, like a gentleman who has no time to loiter once his business isdone. "good-bye, maã®tre!" cried lupin. "and a pleasantjourney! i shall always remember the cordial relations between us. my kind regards to mr.wilson!" he received no reply and chuckled: "that's what we call taking english leave.ah, those worthy islanders do not possess that elegant courtesy which distinguishesus. just think, ganimard, of the exit which a frenchman would have made in similar circumstances!under what exquisite politeness would he not have concealed his triumph!... but, lord blessmy soul, ganimard, what are you doing? well,

i never: a search! but there's nothing left,my poor friend, not a scrap of paper! my archives have been moved to a place of safety." "one can never tell." lupin looked on in resignation. held by twoinspectors and surrounded by all the rest, he patiently watched the various operations.but, after twenty minutes, he sighed: "come along, ganimard; you'll never be finished,at this rate." "are you in a great hurry?" "yes, i should think i was! i have an importantengagement!" "at the police-station?"

"no, in town." "tut, tut! at what time?" "at two o'clock." "it's past three." "exactly: i shall be late; and there's nothingi detest so much as being late." "will you give me five minutes?" "not a minute longer." "you're too good.... i'll try...." "don't talk so much.... what, that cupboardtoo? why, it's empty!"

"there are some letters, for all that." "old bills." "no, a bundle done up in ribbon." "a pink ribbon, is it? oh, ganimard, don'tuntie it, for heaven's sake!" "are they from a woman?" "a lady?" "rather!" "what's her name?" "mme. ganimard."

"very witty! oh, very witty!" cried the inspector,in an affected tone. at that moment, the men returned from theother rooms and declared that their search had led to nothing. lupin began to laugh: "of course not! did you expect to find a listof my friends, or a proof of my relations with the german emperor? what you ought tohave looked for, ganimard, are the little mysteries of this flat. for instance, thatgas-pipe is a speaking tube. the chimney contains a staircase. this wall here is hollow. andsuch a tangle of bell-wires! look here, ganimard: just press that button." ganimard did as he was asked.

"did you hear anything?" "nor i. and yet you have instructed the captainof my balloon-park to get ready the airship which is soon to carry us up to the sky." "come," said ganimard, who had finished hisinspection. "enough of this nonsense. let us start." he took a few steps, followed by his men. lupin did not budge a foot's breadth. his custodians pushed him. in vain. "well," said ganimard, "do you refuse to come?"

"not at all." "then ..." "it all depends." "depends on what?" "on where you're taking me." "to the police-station, of course." "then i shan't come. i have nothing to doat the station." "you're mad!" "didn't i tell you i had an important engagement?"

"lupin!" "come, ganimard, the blonde lady must be gettingquite anxious about me; and do you think i could have the rudeness to keep her waiting?it would not be the conduct of a gentleman!" "listen to me, lupin," said the inspector,who was beginning to lose his temper under all this chaff. "so far, i have treated youwith excessive consideration. but there are limits. follow me." "impossible. i have an engagement and thatengagement i mean to keep." "for the last time?" "im-possible!"

ganimard made a sign. two men seized lupinunder the arms and lifted him from the floor. but they dropped him at once with howls ofpain: with his two hands, arsã¨ne lupin had dug two long needles into their flesh. maddened with rage, the others rushed uponhim, wreaking their hatred at last, burning to avenge their comrades and themselves forthe numberless affronts put upon them, and they rained a shower of blows upon his body.one blow, more violent than the rest, struck him on the temple. he fell to the floor. "if you hurt him," growled ganimard, angrily,"you'll have me to deal with." he bent over lupin, prepared to assist him.but, finding that he was breathing freely,

he told the men to take lupin by the headand feet, while he himself supported his hips. "slowly, now, gently!... don't jolt him!...why, you brutes, you might have killed him. well, lupin, how do you feel?" lupin opened his eyes and stammered: "not up to much, ganimard.... you shouldn'thave let them knock me about." "dash it, it's your own fault ... with yourobstinacy!" replied ganimard, in real distress. "but you're not hurt?" they reached the landing. lupin moaned: "ganimard ... the lift ... they'll break mybones."

"good idea, capital idea!" agreed the inspector."besides, the stairs are so narrow ... it would be impossible...." he got the lift up. they laid lupin on theseat with every imaginable precaution. ganimard sat down beside him and said to his men: "go down the stairs at once. wait for me bythe porter's lodge. do you understand?" he shut the door. but it was hardly closedwhen shouts arose. the lift had shot up, like a balloon with its rope cut. a sardonic laughrang out. "damnation!" roared ganimard, feeling franticallyin the dark for the lever. and failing to find it, he shouted, "the fifth floor! watchthe door on the fifth floor!"

the detectives rushed upstairs, four stepsat a time. but a strange thing happened: the lift seemed to shoot right through the ceilingof the top floor, disappeared before the detectives' eyes and suddenly emerged on the upper story,where the servants' bedrooms were, and stopped. three men were in waiting and opened the door.two of them overpowered ganimard, who, hampered in his movements and completely bewildered,hardly thought of defending himself. the third helped lupin out. "i told you, ganimard!... carried off by balloon... and thanks to you!... next time, you must show less compassion. and, above all, rememberthat arsã¨ne lupin does not allow himself to be bashed and mauled about without goodreasons. good-bye...."

the lift-door was already closed and the lift,with ganimard inside, sent back on its journey toward the ground floor. and all this wasdone so expeditiously that the old detective caught up his subordinates at the door ofthe porter's lodge. without a word, they hurried across the courtyardand up the servants' staircase, the only means of communication with the floor by which theescape had been effected. a long passage, with many windings, linedwith small, numbered rooms, led to a door, which had been simply left ajar. beyond thisdoor and, consequently, in another house, was another passage, also with a number ofturns and lined with similar rooms. right at the end was a servants' staircase. ganimardwent down it, crossed a yard, a hall and rushed

into a street: the rue picot. then he understood:the two houses were built back to back and their fronts faced two streets, running notat right angles, but parallel, with a distance of over sixty yards between them. he entered the porter's lodge and showed hiscard: "have four men just gone out?" "yes, the two servants of the fourth and fifthfloors, with two friends." "who lives on the fourth and fifth floors?" "two gentlemen of the name of fauvel and theircousins, the provosts.... they moved this morning. only the two servants remained....they have just gone."

"ah," thought ganimard, sinking on to a sofain the lodge, "what a fine stroke we have missed! the whole gang occupied this rabbit-warren!..." forty minutes later, two gentlemen drove upin a cab to the gare du nord and hurried toward the calais express, followed by a porter carryingtheir bags. one of them had his arm in a sling and hisface was pale and drawn. the other seemed in great spirits: "come along, wilson; it won't do to miss thetrain!... oh, wilson, i shall never forget these ten days!" "no more shall i."

"what a fine series of battles!" "magnificent!" "a regrettable incident, here and there, butof very slight importance." "very slight, as you say." "and, lastly, victory all along the line.lupin arrested! the blue diamond recovered!" "my arm broken!" "with a success of this kind, what does abroken arm matter?" "especially mine." "especially yours. remember, wilson, it wasat the very moment when you were at the chemist's,

suffering like a hero, that i discovered theclue that guided me through the darkness." "what a piece of luck!" the doors were being locked. "take your seats, please. hurry up, gentlemen!" the porter climbed into an empty compartmentand placed the bags in the rack, while shears hoisted the unfortunate wilson in: "what are you doing, wilson? hurry up, oldchap!... pull yourself together, do!" "it's not for want of pulling myself together." "what then?"

"i can only use one hand." "well?" cried shears, gaily. "what a fussyou make! one would think you were the only man in your plight. what about the fellowswho have really lost an arm? well, are you settled? thank goodness for that!" he gave the porter a half-franc piece. "here, my man. that's for you." "thank you, mr. shears." the englishman raised his eyes: arsã¨ne lupin! "you!... you!" he blurted in his bewilderment.

and wilson stammered, waving his one handwith the gestures of a man proving a fact: "you!... you!... but you're arrested! shearstold me so. when he left you, ganimard and his thirty detectives had you surrounded!" lupin crossed his arms with an air of indignation: "so you thought i would let you go withoutcoming to see you off? after the excellent friendly relations which we never ceased tokeep up? why, it would have been unspeakably rude. what do you take me for?" the engine whistled. "however, i forgive you.... have you all youwant? tobacco, matches?... that's right....

and the evening papers? you will find thedetails of my arrest in them: your last exploit, maã®tre! and now, au revoir; and delightedto have made your acquaintance ... delighted, i mean it!... and, if ever i can do anythingfor you, i shall be only too pleased." he jumped down to the platform and closedthe door. "good-bye!" he cried again, waving his handkerchief."good-bye.... i'll write to you!... mind you write too; let me know how the broken armis, mr. wilson! i shall expect to hear from both of you.... just a picture postcard, nowand again.... 'lupin, paris' will always find me.... it's quite enough.... never mind aboutstamping the letters.... good-bye!... see you soon, i hope!"second episode: the jewish lamp.

chapter i holmlock shears and wilson were seated oneither side of the fireplace in shears's sitting-room. the great detective's pipe had gone out. heknocked the ashes into the grate, re-filled his briar, lit it, gathered the skirts ofhis dressing-gown around his knees, puffed away and devoted all his attention to sendingrings of smoke curling gracefully up to the ceiling. wilson watched him. he watched him as a dog,rolled up on the hearth-rug, watches its master, with wide-open eyes and unblinking lids, eyeswhich have no other hope than to reflect the expected movement on the master's part. wouldshears break silence? would he reveal the

secret of his present dreams and admit wilsonto the realm of meditation into which he felt that he was not allowed to enter uninvited? shears continued silent. wilson ventured upon a remark: "things are very quiet. there's not a singlecase for us to nibble at." shears was more and more fiercely silent;but the rings of tobacco-smoke became more and more successful and any one but wilsonwould have observed that shears obtained from this the profound content which we derivefrom the minor achievements of our vanity, at times when our brain is completely voidof thought.

disheartened, wilson rose and walked to thewindow. the melancholy street lay stretched between the gloomy fronts of the houses, undera dark sky whence fell an angry and pouring rain. a cab drove past; another cab. wilsonjotted down their numbers in his note-book. one can never tell! the postman came down the street, gave a trebleknock at the door; and, presently, the servant entered with two registered letters. "you look remarkably pleased," said wilson,when shears had unsealed and glanced through the first. "this letter contains a very attractive proposal.you were worrying about a case: here is one.

read it." wilson took the letter and read: "18, rue murillo,paris. "sir: "i am writing to ask for the benefit of yourassistance and experience. i have been the victim of a serious theft and all the investigationsattempted up to the present would seem to lead to nothing. "i am sending you by this post a number ofnewspapers which will give you all the details of the case; and, if you are inclined to takeit up, i shall be pleased if you will accept

the hospitality of my house and if you willfill in the enclosed signed check for any amount which you like to name for your expenses. "pray, telegraph to inform me if i may expectyou and believe me to be, sir, "yours very truly,"baron victor d'imblevalle." "well," said shears, "this comes just at theright time: why shouldn't i take a little run to paris? i haven't been there since myfamous duel with arsã¨ne lupin and i shan't be sorry to re-visit it under rather morepeaceful conditions." he tore the cheque into four pieces and, whilewilson, whose arm had not yet recovered from the injury received in the course of the aforesaidencounter, was inveighing bitterly against

paris and all its inhabitants, he opened thesecond envelope. a movement of irritation at once escaped him;he knitted his brow as he read the letter and, when he had finished, he crumpled itinto a ball and threw it angrily on the floor. "what's the matter?" exclaimed wilson, inamazement. he picked up the ball, unfolded it and read,with ever-increasing stupefaction: my dear maã®tre: "you know my admiration for you and the interestwhich i take in your reputation. well, accept my advice and have nothing to do with thecase in which you are asked to assist. your interference would do a great deal of harm,all your efforts would only bring about a

pitiable result and you would be obliged publiclyto acknowledge your defeat. "i am exceedingly anxious to spare you thishumiliation and i beg you, in the name of our mutual friendship, to remain very quietlyby your fireside. "give my kind remembrances to dr. wilson andaccept for yourself the respectful compliments of "yours most sincerely,"arsã¨ne lupin." "arsã¨ne lupin!" repeated wilson, in bewilderment. shears banged the table with his fist: "oh, i'm getting sick of the brute! he laughsat me as if i were a schoolboy! i am publicly

to acknowledge my defeat, am i? didn't i compelhim to give up the blue diamond?" "he's afraid of you," suggested wilson. "you're talking nonsense! arsã¨ne lupin isnever afraid; and the proof is that he challenges me." "but how does he come to know of baron d'imblevalle'sletter?" "how can i tell? you're asking silly questions,my dear fellow!" "i thought ... i imagined...." "what? that i am a sorcerer?" "no, but i have seen you perform such marvels!"

"no one is able to perform marvels.... i nomore than another. i make reflections, deductions, conclusions, but i don't make guesses. onlyfools make guesses." wilson adopted the modest attitude of a beatendog and did his best, lest he should be a fool, not to guess why shears was stridingangrily up and down the room. but, when shears rang for the servant and asked for his travelling-bag,wilson thought himself entitled, since this was a material fact, to reflect, deduce andconclude that his chief was going on a journey. the same mental operation enabled him to declare,in the tone of a man who has no fear of the possibility of a mistake: "holmlock, you are going to paris."

"possibly." "and you are going to paris even more in replyto lupin's challenge than to oblige baron d'imblevalle." "holmlock, i will go with you." "aha, old friend!" cried shears, interruptinghis walk. "aren't you afraid that your left arm may share the fate of the right?" "what can happen to me? you will be there." "well said! you're a fine fellow! and we willshow this gentleman that he may have made a mistake in defying us so boldly. quick,wilson, and meet me at the first train."

"won't you wait for the newspapers the baronmentions?" "what's the good?" "shall i send a telegram?" "no. arsã¨ne lupin would know i was comingand i don't wish him to. this time, wilson, we must play a cautious game." that afternoon, the two friends stepped onboard the boat at dover. they had a capital crossing. in the express from calais to paris,shears indulged in three hours of the soundest sleep, while wilson kept a good watch at thedoor of the compartment and meditated with a wandering eye.

shears woke up feeling happy and well. theprospect of a new duel with arsã¨ne lupin delighted him; and he rubbed his hands withthe contented air of a man preparing to taste untold joys. "at last," exclaimed wilson, "we shall feelthat we're alive!" and he rubbed his hands with the same contentedair. at the station, shears took the rugs, and,followed by wilson carrying the bags—each his burden!—handed the tickets to the collectorand walked gaily into the street. "a fine day, wilson.... sunshine!... parisis dressed in her best to receive us." "what a crowd!"

"so much the better, wilson: we stand lesschance of being noticed. no one will recognize us in the midst of such a multitude." "mr. shears, i believe?" he stopped, somewhat taken aback. who on earthcould be addressing him by name? a woman was walking beside him, or rathera girl whose exceedingly simple dress accentuated her well-bred appearance. her pretty facewore a sad and anxious expression. she repeated: "you must be mr. shears, surely?" he was silent, as much from confusion as fromthe habit of prudence, and she asked for the third time:

"surely i am speaking to mr. shears?" "what do you want with me?" he asked, crossly,thinking this a questionable meeting. she placed herself in front of him: "listen to me, mr. shears: it is a very seriousmatter. i know that you are going to the rue murillo." "what's that?" "i know.... i know.... rue murillo.... no.18. well, you must not ... no, you must not go.... i assure you, you will regret it. becausei tell you this, you need not think that i am interested in any way. i have a reason;i know what i am saying."

he tried to push her aside. she insisted: "i entreat you; do not be obstinate.... oh,if i only knew how to convince you! look into me, look into the depths of my eyes ... theyare sincere ... they speak the truth...." desperately, she raised her eyes, a pair ofbeautiful, grave and limpid eyes that seemed to reflect her very soul. wilson nodded hishead: "the young lady seems quite sincere," he said. "indeed i am," she said beseechingly, "andyou must trust me...." "i do trust you, mademoiselle," replied wilson. "oh, how happy you make me! and your friendtrusts me too, does he not? i feel it....

i am sure of it! how glad i am! all will bewell!... oh, what a good idea i had! listen, mr. shears: there's a train for calais intwenty minutes.... now, you must take it.... quick, come with me: it's this way and youhave not much time." she tried to drag shears with her. he seizedher by the arm and, in a voice which he strove to make as gentle as possible, said: "forgiveme, mademoiselle, if i am not able to accede to your wish; but i never turn aside froma task which i have undertaken." "i entreat you.... i entreat you.... oh, ifyou only knew!" he passed on and walked briskly away. wilson lingered behind and said to the girl:

"be of good hope.... he will see the thingthrough to the end.... he has never yet been known to fail...." and he ran after shears to catch him up.holmlock shears versus arsãˆne lupin.these words, standing out in great black letters, struck their eyes at the first steps theytook. they walked up to them: a procession of sandwich-men was moving along in singlefile. in their hands they carried heavy ferruled canes, with which they tapped the pavementin unison as they went; and their boards bore the above legend in front and a further hugeposter at the back which read:

the shears-lupin contest arrival of the english champion the great detective grapples with the rue murillo mystery full details ã‰cho de france.wilson tossed his head: "i say, holmlock, i thought we were travellingincognito! i shouldn't be astonished to find

the republican guard waiting for us in therue murillo, with an official reception and champagne!" "when you try to be witty, wilson," snarledshears, "you're witty enough for two!" he strode up to one of the men with apparentintention of taking him in his powerful hands and tearing him and his advertisement to shreds.meanwhile, a crowd gathered round the posters, laughing and joking. suppressing a furious fit of passion, shearssaid to the man: "when were you hired?" "this morning."

"when did you start on your round?" "an hour ago." "but the posters were ready?" "lord, yes! they were there when we came tothe office this morning." so arsã¨ne lupin had foreseen that shearswould accept the battle! nay, more, the letter written by lupin proved that he himself wishedfor the battle and that it formed part of his intentions to measure swords once morewith his rival. why? what possible motive could urge him to re-commence the contest? holmlock shears showed a momentary hesitation.lupin must really feel very sure of victory

to display such insolence; and was it notfalling into a trap to hasten like that in answer to the first call? then, summoningup all his energy: "come along, wilson! driver, 18, rue murillo!"he shouted. and, with swollen veins and fists clenchedas though for a boxing-match, he leapt into a cab. the rue murillo is lined with luxurious privateresidences, the backs of which look out upon the parc monceau. no. 18 is one of the handsomestof these houses; and baron d'imblevalle, who occupies it with his wife and children, hasfurnished it in the most sumptuous style, as befits an artist and millionaire. thereis a courtyard in front of the house, skirted

on either side by the servants' offices. atthe back, a garden mingles the branches of its trees with the trees of the park. the two englishmen rang the bell, crossedthe courtyard and were admitted by a footman, who showed them into a small drawing-roomat the other side of the house. they sat down and took a rapid survey of themany valuable objects with which the room was filled. "very pretty things," whispered wilson. "tasteand fancy.... one can safely draw the deduction that people who have had the leisure to huntout these articles are persons of a certain age ... fifty, perhaps...."

he did not have time to finish. the door openedand m. d'imblevalle entered, followed by his wife. contrary to wilson's deductions, they wereboth young, fashionably dressed and very lively in speech and manner. both were profuse inthanks: "it is really too good of you! to put yourselfout like this! we are almost glad of this trouble since it procures us the pleasure...." "how charming those french people are!" thoughtwilson, who never shirked the opportunity of making an original observation. "but time is money," cried the baron. "andyours especially, mr. shears. let us come

to the point! what do you think of the case?do you hope to bring it to a satisfactory result?" "to bring the case to a satisfactory result,i must first know what the case is." "don't you know?" "no; and i will ask you to explain the matterfully, omitting nothing. what is it a case of?" "it is a case of theft." "on what day did it take place?" "on saturday," replied the baron. "on saturdaynight or sunday morning."

"six days ago, therefore. now, pray, go on." "i must first tell you that my wife and i,though we lead the life expected of people in our position, go out very little. the educationof our children, a few receptions, the beautifying of our home: these make up our existence;and all or nearly all our evenings are spent here, in this room, which is my wife's boudoirand in which we have collected a few pretty things. well, on saturday last, at about eleveno'clock, i switched off the electric light and my wife and i retired, as usual, to ourbedroom." "where is that?" "the next room: that door over there. on thefollowing morning, that is to say, sunday,

i rose early. as suzanne—my wife—was stillasleep, i came into this room as gently as possible, so as not to awake her. imaginemy surprise at finding the window open, after we had left it closed the evening before!" "a servant...?" "nobody enters this room in the morning beforewe ring. besides, i always take the precaution of bolting that other door, which leads tothe hall. therefore the window must have been opened from the outside. i had a proof ofit, besides: the second pane of the right-hand casement, the one next to the latch, had beencut out." "and the window?"

"the window, as you perceive, opens on a littlebalcony surrounded by a stone balustrade. we are on the first floor here and you cansee the garden at the back of the house and the railings that separate it from the parcmonceau. it is certain, therefore, that the man came from the parc monceau, climbed therailings by means of a ladder and got up to the balcony." "it is certain, you say?" "on either side of the railings, in the softearth of the borders, we found holes left by the two uprights of the ladder; and therewere two similar holes below the balcony. lastly, the balustrade shows two slight scratches,evidently caused by the contact of the ladder."

"isn't the parc monceau closed at night?" "closed? no. but, in any case, there is ahouse building at no. 14. it would have been easy to effect an entrance that way." holmlock shears reflected for a few momentsand resumed: "let us come to the theft. you say it wascommitted in the room where we now are?" "yes. just here, between this twelfth-centuryvirgin and that chased-silver tabernacle, there was a little jewish lamp. it has disappeared." "and is that all?" "that is all."

"oh!... and what do you call a jewish lamp?" "it is one of those lamps which they usedto employ in the old days, consisting of a stem and of a receiver to contain the oil.this receiver had two or more burners, which held the wicks." "when all is said, objects of no great value." "just so. but the one in question formed ahiding-place in which we had made it a practice to keep a magnificent antique jewel, a chimerain gold, set with rubies and emeralds and worth a great deal of money." "what was your reason for this practice?"

"upon my word, mr. shears, i should find itdifficult to tell you! perhaps we just thought it amusing to have a hiding-place of thiskind." "did nobody know of it?" "nobody." "except, of course, the thief," objected shears."but for that, he would not have taken the trouble to steal the jewish lamp." "obviously. but how could he know of it, seeingthat it was by an accident that we discovered the secret mechanism of the lamp?" "the same accident may have revealed it tosomebody else: a servant ... a visitor to

the house.... but let us continue: have youinformed the police?" "certainly. the examining-magistrate has madehis inquiry. the journalistic detectives attached to all the big newspapers have made theirs.but, as i wrote to you, it does not seem as though the problem had the least chance ofever being solved." shears rose, went to the window, inspectedthe casement, the balcony, the balustrade, employed his lens to study the two scratcheson the stone and asked m. d'imblevalle to take him down to the garden. when they were outside, shears simply satdown in a wicker chair and contemplated the roof of the house with a dreamy eye. thenhe suddenly walked toward two little wooden

cases with which, in order to preserve theexact marks, they had covered the holes which the uprights of the ladder had left in theground, below the balcony. he removed the cases, went down on his knees and, with roundedback and his nose six inches from the ground, searched and took his measurements. he wentthrough the same performance along the railing, but more quickly. that was all. they both returned to the boudoir, where madamed'imblevalle was waiting for them. shears was silent for a few minutes longerand then spoke these words: "ever since you began your story, monsieurle baron, i was struck by the really too simple

side of the offence. to apply a ladder, removea pane of glass, pick out an object and go away: no, things don't happen so easily asthat. it is all too clear, too plain." "you mean to say...?" "i mean to say that the theft of the jewishlamp was committed under the direction of arsã¨ne lupin." "arsã¨ne lupin!" exclaimed the baron. "but it was committed without arsã¨ne lupin'spresence and without anybody's entering the house.... perhaps a servant slipped down tothe balcony from his garret, along a rain-spout which i saw from the garden."

"but what evidence have you?" "arsã¨ne lupin would not have left the boudoirempty-handed." "empty-handed! and what about the lamp?" "taking the lamp would not have preventedhim from taking this snuff-box, which, i see, is studded with diamonds, or this necklaceof old opals. it would require but two movements more. his only reason for not making thosemovements was that he was not here to make them." "still, the marks of the ladder?" "a farce! mere stage-play to divert suspicions!"

"the scratches on the balustrade?" "a sham! they were made with sandpaper. look,here are a few bits of paper which i picked up." "the marks left by the uprights of the ladder?" "humbug! examine the two rectangular holesbelow the balcony and the two holes near the railings. the shape is similar, but, whereasthey are parallel here, they are not so over there. measure the space that separates eachhole from its neighbour: it differs in the two cases. below the balcony, the distanceis nine inches. beside the railings, it is eleven inches."

"what do you conclude from that?" "i conclude, since their outline is identical,that the four holes were made with one stump of wood, cut to the right shape." "the best argument would be the stump of wooditself." "here it is," said shears. "i picked it upin the garden, behind a laurel-tub." the baron gave in. it was only forty minutessince the englishman had entered by that door; and not a vestige remained of all that hadbeen believed so far on the evidence of the apparent facts themselves. the reality, adifferent reality, came to light, founded upon something much more solid: the reasoningfaculties of a holmlock shears.

"it is a very serious accusation to bringagainst our people, mr. shears," said the baroness. "they are old family servants andnot one of them is capable of deceiving us." "if one of them did not deceive you, how doyou explain that this letter was able to reach me on the same day and by the same post asthe one you sent me?" and he handed her the letter which arsã¨nelupin had written to him. madame d'imblevalle was dumbfounded: "arsã¨ne lupin!... how did he know?" "did you tell no one of your letter?" "no one," said the baron. "the idea occurredto us the other evening, at dinner."

"before the servants?" "there were only our two children. and eventhen ... no, sophie and henrietta were not at table, were they suzanne?" madame d'imblevalle reflected and declared: "no, they had gone up to mademoiselle." "mademoiselle?" asked shears. "the governess, alice demun." "doesn't she have her meals with you?" "no, she has them by herself, in her room."

wilson had an idea: "the letter written to my friend holmlockshears was posted?" "naturally." "who posted it?" "dominique, who has been with me as my ownman for twenty years," replied the baron. "any search in that direction would be wasteof time." "time employed in searching is never wasted,"stated wilson, sententiously. this closed the first inquiries and shearsasked leave to withdraw. an hour later, at dinner, he saw sophie andhenrietta, the d'imblevalles' children, two

pretty little girls of eight and six respectively.the conversation languished. shears replied to the pleasant remarks of the baron and hiswife in so surly a tone that they thought it better to keep silence. coffee was served.shears swallowed the contents of his cup and rose from his chair. at that moment, a servant entered with a telephonemessage for him. shears opened it and read: "accept my enthusiastic admiration. resultsobtained by you in so short a time make my head reel. i feel quite giddy. he could not suppress a gesture of annoyanceand, showing the telegram to the baron: "do you begin to believe," he said, "thatyour walls have eyes and ears?"

"i can't understand it," murmured m. d'imblevalle,astounded. "nor i. but what i do understand is that nota movement takes place here unperceived by him. not a word is spoken but he hears it." that evening, wilson went to bed with theeasy conscience of a man who has done his duty and who has no other business beforehim than to go to sleep. so he went to sleep very quickly and was visited by beautifuldreams, in which he was hunting down lupin all by himself and just on the point of arrestinghim with his own hand; and the feeling of the pursuit was so lifelike that he woke up. some one was touching his bed. he seized hisrevolver:

"another movement, lupin, and i shoot!" "steady, old chap, steady on!" "hullo, is that you, shears? do you want me?" "i want your eyes. get up...." he led him to the window: "look over there ... beyond the railings...." "in the park?" "yes. do you see anything?" "no, nothing."

"try again; i am sure you see something." "oh, so i do: a shadow ... no, two!" "i thought so: against the railings.... see,they're moving.... let's lose no time." groping and holding on to the banister, theymade their way down the stairs and came to a room that opened on to the garden steps.through the glass doors, they could see the two figures still in the same place. "it's curious," said shears. "i seem to hearnoises in the house." "in the house? impossible! everbody's asleep." "listen, though...."

at that moment, a faint whistle sounded fromthe railings and they perceived an undecided light that seemed to come from the house. "the d'imblevalles must have switched on theirlight," muttered shears. "it's their room above us." "then it's they we heard, no doubt," saidwilson. "perhaps they are watching the railings." a second whistle, still fainter than the first. "i can't understand, i can't understand,"said shears, in a tone of vexation. "no more can i," confessed wilson. shears turned the key of the door, unboltedit and softly pushed it open.

a third whistle, this time a little deeperand in a different note. and, above their heads, the noise grew louder, more hurried. "it sounds rather as if it were on the balconyof the boudoir," whispered shears. he put his head between the glass doors, butat once drew back with a stifled oath. wilson looked out in his turn. close to them, a ladderrose against the wall, leaning against the balustrade of the balcony. "by jove!" said shears. "there's some onein the boudoir. that's what we heard. quick, let's take away the ladder!" but, at that moment, a form slid from thetop to the bottom, the ladder was removed

and the man who carried it ran swiftly towardthe railings, to the place where his accomplices were waiting. shears and wilson had dartedout. they came up with the man as he was placing the ladder against the railings. two shotsrang out from the other side. "wounded?" cried shears. "no," replied wilson. he caught the man around the body and triedto throw him. but the man turned, seized him with one hand and, with the other, plungeda knife full into his chest. wilson gave a sigh, staggered and fell. "damnation!" roared shears. "if they've donefor him, i'll do for them!"

he laid wilson on the lawn and rushed at theladder. too late: the man had run up it and, in company with his accomplices, was fleeingthrough the shrubs. "wilson, wilson, it's not serious, is it?say it's only a scratch!" the doors of the house opened suddenly. m.d'imblevalle was the first to appear, followed by the men-servants carrying candles. "what is it?" cried the baron. "is mr. wilsonhurt?" "nothing; only a scratch," repeated shears,endeavouring to delude himself into the belief. wilson was bleeding copiously and his facewas deathly pale. twenty minutes later, the doctor declared that the point of the knifehad penetrated to within a quarter of an inch

of the heart. "a quarter of an inch! that wilson was alwaysa lucky dog!" said shears, summing up the situation, in an envious tone. "lucky ... lucky...." grunted the doctor. "why, with his strong constitution, he'llbe all right...." "after six weeks in bed and two months' convalescence." "no longer?" "no, unless complications ensue." "why on earth should there be any complications?"

fully reassured, shears returned to m. d'imblevallein the boudoir. this time, the mysterious visitor had not shown the same discretion.he had laid hands without shame on the diamond-studded snuff-box, on the opal necklace and, generally,on anything that could find room in the pockets of a self-respecting burglar. the window was still open, one of the paneshad been neatly cut out and a summary inquiry held at daybreak showed that the ladder camefrom the unfinished house and that the burglars must have come that way. "in short," said m. d'imblevalle, with a touchof irony in his voice, "it is an exact repetition of the theft of the jewish lamp."

"yes, if we accept the first version favouredby the police." "do you still refuse to adopt it? doesn'tthis second theft shake your opinion as regards the first?" "on the contrary, it confirms it." "it seems incredible! you have the undoubtedproof that last night's burglary was committed by somebody from the outside and you stillmaintain that the jewish lamp was stolen by one of our people?" "by some one living in the house." "then how do you explain...?"

"i explain nothing, monsieur: i establishtwo facts, which resemble each other only in appearance, i weigh them separately andi am trying to find the link that connects his conviction seemed so profound, his actionsbased upon such powerful motives, that the baron gave way: "very well. let us go and inform the commissaryof the police." "on no account!" exclaimed the englishman,eagerly. "on no account whatever! the police are people whom i apply to only when i wantthem." "still, the shots...?" "never mind the shots!"

"your friend...." "my friend is only wounded.... make the doctorhold his tongue.... i will take all the responsibility as regards the police." two days elapsed, devoid of all incident,during which shears pursued his task with a minute care and a conscientiousness thatwas exasperated by the memory of that daring onslaught, perpetrated under his eyes, despitehis presence and without his being able to prevent its success. he searched the houseand garden indefatigably, talked to the servants and paid long visits to the kitchen and stables.and, though he gathered no clue that threw any light upon the subject, he did not losecourage.

"i shall find what i am looking for," he thought,"and i shall find it here. it is not a question now, as in the case of the blonde lady, ofwalking at hap-hazard and of reaching, by roads unknown to me, an equally unknown goal.this time i am on the battlefield itself. the enemy is no longer the invisible, elusivelupin, but the flesh-and-blood accomplice who moves within the four walls of this house.give me the least little particular, and i know where i stand." this little particular, from which he wasto derive such remarkable consequences, with a skill so prodigious that the case of thejewish lamp may be looked upon as one in which his detective genius bursts forth most triumphantly,this little particular he was to obtain

by accident. on the third day, entering the room abovethe boudoir, which was used as a schoolroom for the children, he came upon henriette,the smaller of the two. she was looking for her scissors. "you know," she said to shears, "i make paperstoo, like the one you got the other evening." "the other evening?" "yes, after dinner. you got a paper with stripson it ... you know, a telegram.... well, i make them too." she went out. to any one else, these wordswould have represented only the insignificant

observation of a child; and shears himselflistened without paying much attention and continued his inspection. but, suddenly, hestarted running after the child, whose last phrase had all at once impressed him. he caughther at the top of the staircase and said: "so you stick strips on to paper also, doyou?" henriette, very proudly, declared: "yes, i cut out the words and stick them on." "and who taught you that pretty game?" "mademoiselle ... my governess.... i saw herdo it. she takes words out of newspapers and sticks them on...."

"and what does she do with them?" "makes telegrams and letters which she sendsoff." holmlock shears returned to the schoolroom,singularly puzzled by this confidence and doing his utmost to extract from it the inferencesof which it allowed. there was a bundle of newspapers on the mantel-piece.he opened them and saw, in fact, that there were groups of words or lines missing, regularlyand neatly cut out. but he had only to read the words that came before or after to ascertainthat the missing words had been removed with the scissors at random, evidently by henriette.it was possible that, in the pile of papers, there was one which mademoiselle had cut herself.but how was he to make sure?

mechanically, shears turned the pages of thelesson-books heaped up on the table and of some others lying on the shelves of a cupboard.and suddenly a cry of joy escaped him. in a corner of the cupboard, under a pile ofold exercise-books, he had found a children's album, a sort of picture alphabet, and, inone of the pages of this album, he had seen a gap. he examined the page. it gave the names ofthe days of the week: sunday, monday, tuesday, and so on. the word "saturday" was missing.now the jewish lamp was stolen on a saturday night. shears felt that little clutch at his heartwhich always told him, in the plainest manner

possible, when he had hit upon the knottypoint of a mystery. that grip of truth, that feeling of certainty never deceived him. he hastened to turn over the pages of thealbum, feverishly and confidently. a little further on came another surprise. it was a page consisting of capital lettersfollowed by a row of figures. nine of the letters and three of the figureshad been carefully removed. shears wrote them down in his note-book, inthe order which they would have occupied, and obtained the following result: c d e h n o p r z—237"by jove!" he muttered. "there's not much

to be made out of that, at first sight." was it possible to rearrange these lettersand, employing them all, to form one, two or three complete words? shears attempted to do so in vain. one solution alone suggested itself, returnedcontinually to the point of his pencil and, in the end, appeared to him the right one,because it agreed with the logic of the facts and also corresponded with the general circumstances. admitting that the page in the album containedeach of the letters of the alphabet once and once only, it was probable, it was certainthat he had to do with incomplete words and

that these words had been completed with letterstaken from other pages. given these conditions, and allowing for the possibility of a mistake,the puzzle stood thus: r e p o n d . z—ch—237the first word was clear: "rãªpondez, reply." an e was missing, because the letter e, havingbeen once used, was no longer available. as for the last, unfinished word, it undoubtedlyformed, with the number 237, the address which the sender gave to the receiver of the letter.he was advised to fix the day for saturday and asked to send a reply to c h 237. either c h 237 was the official number ofa poste restante or else the two letters c h formed part of an incomplete word. shearsturned over the leaves of the album: nothing

had been cut from any of the following pages.he must, therefore, until further orders, be content with the explanation hit upon. "isn't it fun?" henriette had returned. he replied: "yes, great fun! only, haven't you any otherpapers?... or else some words ready cut out, for me to stick on?" "papers?... no.... and then mademoiselle wouldn'tlike it." "mademoiselle?"

"yes, mademoiselle has scolded me already." "why?" "because i told you things ... and she saysyou must never tell things about people you are fond of." "you were quite right to tell me." henriette seemed delighted with his approval,so much so that, from a tiny canvas bag pinned on to her frock, she took a few strips ofstuff, three buttons, two lumps of sugar and, lastly, a square piece of paper which sheheld out to shears: "there, i'll give it you all the same." itwas the number of a cab, no. 8279.

"where did you get this from?" "it fell out of her purse." "on sunday, at mass, when she was taking outsome coppers for the collection." "capital! and now i will tell you how notto get scolded. don't tell mademoiselle that you have seen me." shears went off in search of m. d'imblevalleand asked him straight out about mademoiselle. the baron gave a start: "alice demun!... would you think?... oh, impossible!" "how long has she been in your service?"

"only twelve months, but i know no quieterperson nor any in whom i place more confidence." "how is it that i have not yet seen her?" "she was away for two days." "and at present?" "immediately on her return, she took up herposition by your friend's bedside. she is a first-rate nurse ... gentle ... attentive.mr. wilson seems delighted with her." "oh!" said shears, who had quite omitted toinquire after old chap's progress. he thought for a moment and asked: "and did she go out on sunday morning?"

"the day after the robbery?" the baron called his wife and put the questionto her. she replied: "mademoiselle took the children to the eleveno'clock mass, as usual." "but before that?" "before? no.... or rather.... but i was soupset by the theft!... still, i remember that, on the evening before, she asked leave togo out on sunday morning ... to see a cousin who was passing through paris, i think. butsurely you don't suspect her?" "certainly not. but i should like to see her." he went up to wilson's room. a woman dressedlike a hospital nurse, in a long gray linen

gown, was stooping over the sick man and givinghim a draught. when she turned round, shears recognized the girl who had spoken to himoutside the gare du nord. not the slightest explanation passed betweenthem. alice demun smiled gently, with her grave and charming eyes, without a trace ofembarrassment. the englishman wanted to speak, tried to utter a syllable or two and was silent.then she resumed her task, moved about peacefully before shears's astonished eyes, shifted bottles,rolled and unrolled linen bandages and again gave him her bright smile. shears turned on his heels, went downstairs,saw m. d'imblevalle's motor in the courtyard, got into it and told the chauffeur to drivehim to the yard at levallois of which the

address was marked on the cab-ticket givenhim by the child. duprãªt, the driver who had taken out no. 8279 on sunday morning,was not there and shears sent back the motor-car and waited until he came to change horses. duprãªt the driver said yes, he had takenup a lady near the parc monceau, a young lady in black, with a big veil on her: she seemedvery excited. "was she carrying a parcel?" "yes, a longish parcel." "and where did you drive her to?" "avenue des ternes, at the corner of the placesaint-ferdinand. she stayed for ten minutes

or so; and then we went back to the parc monceau." "would you know the house again, in the avenuedes ternes?" "rather! shall i take you there?" "presently. go first to 36, quai des orfã¨vres." at the police headquarters he had the goodfortune to come upon chief-inspector ganimard: "are you disengaged, m. ganimard?" "if it's about lupin, no." "it is about lupin." "then i shan't stir."

"what! you give up...!" "i give up the impossible. i am tired of thisunequal contest of which we are certain to have the worst. it's cowardly, it's ridiculous,it's anything you please.... i don't care! lupin is stronger than we are. consequently,there's nothing to do but give in." "i'm not giving in!" "he'll make you give in like the rest of us." "well, it's a sight that can't fail to pleaseyou." "that's true enough," said ganimard, innocently."and, as you seem to want another beating, come along!"

ganimard and shears stepped into the cab.they told the driver to stop a little way before he came to the house and on the otherside of the avenue, in front of a small cafã©. they sat down outside it, among tubs of laurelsand spindle-trees. the light was beginning to wane. "waiter!" said shears. "pen and ink!" he wrote a note and, calling the waiter again,said: "take this to the concierge of the house opposite.it's the man in the cap smoking his pipe in the gateway." the concierge hurried across and, after ganimardhad announced himself as a chief-inspector,

shears asked if a young lady in black hadcalled at the house on sunday morning. "in black? yes, about nine o'clock: it's theone who goes up to the second floor." "do you see much of her?" "no, but she's been oftener lately: almostevery day during the past fortnight." "and since sunday?" "only once ... without counting to-day." "what! has she been to-day?" "she's there now." "she's there now?"

"yes, she came about ten minutes ago. hercab is waiting on the place saint-ferdinand, as usual. i passed her in the gateway." "and who is the tenant of the second floor?" "there are two: a dressmaker, mademoisellelangeais, and a gentleman who hired a couple of furnished rooms, a month ago, under thename of bresson." "what makes you say 'under the name'?" "i have an idea that it's an assumed name.my wife does his rooms: well, he hasn't two articles of clothing marked with the sameinitials." "how does he live?"

"oh, he's almost always out. sometimes, hedoes not come home for three days together." "did he come in on saturday night?" "on saturday night?... wait, while i think....yes, he came in on saturday night and hasn't stirred out since." "and what sort of a man is he?" "faith, i couldn't say. he changes so! he'stall, he's short, he's fat, he's thin ... dark and fair. i don't always recognize him." ganimard and shears exchanged glances. "it's he," muttered ganimard. "it must behe."

for a moment, the old detective experienceda real agitation, which betrayed itself by a deep breath and a clenching of the fists. shears too, although more master of himself,felt something clutching at his heart. "look out!" said the concierge. "here comesthe young lady." as he spoke, mademoiselle appeared in thegateway and crossed the square. "and here is m. bresson." "m. bresson? which is he?" "the gentleman with a parcel under his arm." "but he's taking no notice of the girl. sheis going to her cab alone."

"oh, well, i've never seen them together." the two detectives rose hurriedly. by thelight of the street-lamps, they recognized lupin's figure, as he walked away in the oppositedirection to the square. "which will you follow?" asked ganimard. "'him,' of course. he's big game." "then i'll shadow the young lady," suggestedganimard. "no, no," said the englishman quickly, notwishing to reveal any part of the case to ganimard. "i know where to find the younglady when i want her.... don't leave me." at a distance and availing themselves of theoccasional shelter of the passers-by and the

kiosks, ganimard and shears set off in pursuitof lupin. it was an easy enough pursuit, for he did not turn round and walked quickly,with a slight lameness in the right leg, so slight that it needed the eye of a trainedobserver to perceive it. "he's pretending to limp!" said ganimard.and he continued, "ah, if we could only pick up two or three policemen and pounce uponthe fellow! as it is, here's a chance of our losing him." but no policeman appeared in sight beforethe porte des ternes; and, once the fortifications were passed, they could not reckon on theleast assistance. "let us separate," said shears. "the placeis deserted."

they were on the boulevard victor-hugo. theyeach took a different pavement and followed the line of the trees. they walked like this for twenty minutes,until the moment when lupin turned to the left and along the seine. here they saw himgo down to the edge of the river. he remained there for a few seconds, during which theywere unable to distinguish his movements. then he climbed up the bank again and returnedby the way he had come. they pressed back against the pillars of a gate. lupin passedin front of them. he no longer carried a parcel. and, as he moved away, another figure appearedfrom behind the corner of a house and slipped in between the trees.

shears said, in a low voice: "that one seems to be following him too." "yes, i believe i saw him before, as we came." the pursuit was resumed, but was now complicatedby the presence of this figure. lupin followed the same road, passed through the porte desternes again, and entered the house on the place saint-ferdinand. the concierge was closing the door for thenight when ganimard came up: "you saw him, i suppose?" "yes, i was turning off the gas on the stairs.he has bolted his door."

"is there no one with him?" "no one: he doesn't keep a servant ... henever has his meals here." "is there no back staircase?" ganimard said to shears: "the best thing will be for me to place myselfoutside lupin's door, while you go to the rue demours and fetch the commissary of police.i'll give you a line for him." shears objected: "suppose he escapes meanwhile?" "but i shall be here!..."

"single-handed, it would be an unequal contestbetween you and him." "still, i can't break into his rooms. i'mnot entitled to, especially at night." shears shrugged his shoulders: "once you've arrested lupin, no one will haulyou over the coals for the particular manner in which you effected the arrest. besides,we may as well ring the bell, what! then we'll see what happens." they went up the stairs. there was a doubledoor on the left of the landing. ganimard rang the bell. not a sound. he rang again. no one stirred.

"let's go in," muttered shears. "yes, come along." nevertheless, they remained motionless, irresolute.like people who hesitate before taking a decisive step, they were afraid to act; and it suddenlyseemed to them impossible that arsã¨ne lupin should be there, so near to them, behind thatfrail partition, which they could smash with a blow of their fists. they both of them knewhim too well, demon that he was, to admit that he would allow himself to be nabbed sostupidly. no, no, a thousand times no; he was not there. he must have escaped, by theadjoining houses, by the roofs, by some suitably prepared outlet; and, once again, the shadowof arsã¨ne lupin was all that they could hope

to lay hands upon. they shuddered. an imperceptible sound, comingfrom the other side of the door, had, as it were, grazed the silence. and they receivedthe impression, the certainty that he was there after all, separated from them by thatthin wooden partition, and that he was listening to them, that he heard them. what were they to do? it was a tragic situation.for all their coolness as old stagers of the police, they were overcome by so great anexcitement that they imagined they could hear the beating of their own hearts. ganimard consulted shears with a silent glanceand then struck the door violently with his

fist. a sound of footsteps was now heard, a soundwhich there was no longer any attempt to conceal. ganimard shook the door. shears gave an irresistiblethrust with his shoulder and burst it open; and they both rushed in. then they stopped short. a shot resoundedin the next room. and another, followed by the thud of a falling body. when they entered, they saw the man lyingwith his face against the marble of the mantel-piece. he gave a convulsive movement. his revolverslipped from his hand. ganimard stooped and turned the dead man'shead, it was covered with blood, which trickled

from two large wounds in the cheek and temple. "there's no recognizing him," he whispered. "one thing is certain," said shears. "it'snot 'he.'" "how do you know? you haven't even examinedhim." the englishman sneered: "do you think arsã¨ne lupin is the man tokill himself?" "still, we believed we knew him outside." "we believed, because we wanted to believe.the fellow besets our minds." "then it's one of his accomplices."

"arsã¨ne lupin's accomplices do not kill themselves." "then who is it?" they searched the body. in one pocket, holmlockshears found an empty note-case; in another, ganimard found a few louis. there were nomarks on his linen or on his clothes. the trunks—a big box and two bags—containednothing but personal effects. there was a bundle of newspapers on the mantel-piece.ganimard opened them. they all spoke of the theft of the jewish lamp. an hour later, when ganimard and shears leftthe house, they knew no more about the strange individual whom their intervention had drivento suicide.

who was he? why had he taken his life? whatlink connected him with the disappearance of the jewish lamp? who was it that doggedhis steps during his walk? these were all complicated questions ... so many mysteries. holmlock shears went to bed in a very badtemper. when he woke, he received an express letter couched in these words: "arsã¨ne lupin begs to inform you of his tragicdecease in the person of one bresson and requests the honour of your company at his funeral,which will take place, at the public expense, on thursday, the 25th of june." "you see, old chap," said holmlock shearsto wilson, waving arsã¨ne lupin's letter in

his hand, "the worst of this business is thati feel the confounded fellow's eye constantly fixed upon me. not one of my most secret thoughtsescape him. i am behaving like an actor, whose steps are ruled by the strictest stage-directions,who moves here or there and says this or that because a superior will has so determinedit. do you understand, wilson?" wilson would no doubt have understood hadhe not been sleeping the sound sleep of a man whose temperature is fluctuating between102 and 104 degrees. but whether he heard or not made no difference to shears, who continued: "it will need all my energy and all my resourcesnot to be discouraged. fortunately, with me, these little gibes are only so many pin-prickswhich stimulate me to further exertions. once

the sting is allayed and the wound in my self-respectclosed, i always end by saying: 'laugh away, my lad. sooner or later, you will be betrayedby your own hand.' for, when all is said, wilson, wasn't it lupin himself who, withhis first telegram and the reflection which it suggested to that little henriette, revealedto me the secret of his correspondence with alice demun? you forget that detail, old chap." he walked up and down the room, with resoundingstrides, at the risk of waking old chap: "however, things might be worse; and, thoughthe paths which i am following appear a little dark, i am beginning to see my way. to startwith, i shall soon know all about master bresson. ganimard and i have an appointment on thebank of the seine, at the spot where bresson

flung his parcel, and we shall find out whohe was and what he wanted. as regards the rest, it's a game to be played out betweenalice demun and me. not a very powerful adversary, eh, wilson? and don't you think i shall soonknow the sentence in the album and what those two single letters mean, the c and the h?for the whole mystery lies in that, wilson." at this moment, mademoiselle entered the roomand, seeing shears wave his arms about, said: "mr. shears, i shall be very angry with youif you wake my patient. it's not nice of you to disturb him. the doctor insists upon absolutecalm." he looked at her without a word, astonished,as on the first day, at her inexplicable composure. "why do you look at me like that, mr. shears?...you always seem to have something at the back

of your mind.... what is it? tell me, please." she questioned him with all her bright face,with her guileless eyes, her smiling lips and with her attitude too, her hands joinedtogether, her body bent slightly forward. and so great was her candour that it rousedthe englishman's anger. he came up to her and said, in a low voice: "bresson committed suicide yesterday." she repeated, without appearing to understand: "bresson committed suicide yesterday?" as a matter of fact, her features underwentno change whatever; nothing revealed the effort

of a lie. "you have been told," he said, irritably."if not, you would at least have started.... ah, you are cleverer than i thought! but whypretend?" he took the picture-book, which he had placedon a table close at hand, and, opening it at the cut page: "can you tell me," he asked, "in what orderi am to arrange the letters missing here, so that i may understand the exact purportof the note which you sent to bresson four days before the theft of the jewish lamp?" "in what order?... bresson?... the theft ofthe jewish lamp?"

she repeated the words, slowly, as thoughto make out their meaning. he insisted: "yes, here are the letters you used ... onthis scrap of paper. what were you saying to bresson?" "the letters i used...? what was i sayingto...?" suddenly she burst out laughing: "i see! i understand! i am an accomplice inthe theft! there is a m. bresson who stole the jewish lamp and killed himself. and iam the gentleman's friend! oh, how amusing!" "then whom did you go to see yesterday evening,on the second floor of a house in the avenue

des ternes?" "whom? why, my dressmaker, mlle. langeais!do you mean to imply that my dressmaker and my friend m. bresson are one and the sameperson?" shears began to doubt, in spite of all. itis possible to counterfeit almost any feeling in such a way as to put another person off:terror, joy, anxiety; but not indifference, not happy and careless laughter. however, he said: "one last word. why did you accost me at thegare du nord the other evening? and why did you beg me to go back at once without busyingmyself about the robbery?"

"oh, you're much too curious, mr. shears,"she replied, still laughing in the most natural way. "to punish you, i will tell you nothingand, in addition, you shall watch the patient while i go to the chemist.... there's an urgentprescription to be made up.... i must hurry!" she left the room. "i have been tricked," muttered shears. "i'venot only got nothing out of her, but i have given myself away." and he remembered the case of the blue diamondand the cross-examination to which he had subjected clotilde destange. mademoisellehad encountered him with the same serenity as the blonde lady and he felt that he wasagain face to face with one of those creatures

who, protected by arsã¨ne lupin and underthe direct action of his influence, preserved the most inscrutable calmness amid the veryagony of danger. "shears.... shears...." it was wilson calling him. he went to thebed and bent over him: "what is it, old chap? feeling bad?" wilson moved his lips, but was unable to speak.at last, after many efforts, he stammered out: "no ... shears ... it wasn't she ... it can'thave been...." "what nonsense are you talking now? i tellyou that it was she! it's only when i'm in

the presence of a creature of lupin's, trainedand drilled by him, that i lose my head and behave so foolishly.... she now knows thewhole story of the album.... i bet you that lupin will be told in less than an hour. lessthan an hour? what am i talking about? this moment, most likely! the chemist, the urgentprescription: humbug!" without a further thought of wilson, he rushedfrom the room, went down the avenue de messine and saw mademoiselle enter a chemist's shop.she came out, ten minutes later, carrying two or three medicine-bottles wrapped up inwhite paper. but, when she returned up the avenue, she was accosted by a man who followedher, cap in hand and with an obsequious air, as though he were begging.

she stopped, gave him an alms and then continuedon her way. "she spoke to him," said the englishman tohimself. it was an intuition rather than a certainty,but strong enough to induce him to alter his tactics. leaving the girl, he set off on thetrack of the sham beggar. they arrived in this way, one behind the other,on the place saint-ferdinand; and the man hovered long round bresson's house, sometimesraising his eyes to the second-floor windows and watching the people who entered the house. at the end of an hour's time, he climbed tothe top of a tram-car that was starting for neuilly. shears climbed up also and sat downbehind the fellow, at some little distance,

beside a gentleman whose features were concealedby the newspaper which he was reading. when they reached the fortifications, the newspaperwas lowered, shears recognized ganimard and ganimard, pointing to the fellow, said inhis ear: "it's our man of last night, the one who followedbresson. he's been hanging round the square for an hour." "nothing new about bresson?" "yes, a letter arrived this morning addressedto him." "this morning? then it must have been postedyesterday, before the writer knew of bresson's death."

"just so. it is with the examining magistrate,but i can tell you the exact words: 'he accepts no compromise. he wants everything, the firstthing as well as those of the second business. if not, he will take steps.' and no signature,"added ganimard. "as you can see, those few lines won't be of much use to us." "i don't agree with you at all, m. ganimard:on the contrary, i consider them very interesting." "and why, bless my soul?" "for reasons personal to myself," said shears,with the absence of ceremony with which he was accustomed to treat his colleague. the tram stopped at the terminus in the ruedu chã¢teau. the man climbed down and walked

away quietly. shears followed so closely onhis heels that ganimard took alarm: "if he turns round, we are done." "he won't turn round now." "he is an accomplice of arsã¨ne lupin's andthe fact that an accomplice of lupin's walks away like that, with his hands in his pockets,proves, in the first place, that he knows he's followed, and in the second, that he'snot afraid." "still, we're running him pretty hard!" "no matter, he can slip through our fingersin a minute, if he wants. he's too sure of himself."

"come, come; you're getting at me! there aretwo cyclist police at the door of that cafã© over there. if i decide to call on them andto tackle our friend, i should like to know how he's going to slip through our fingers." "our friend does not seem much put out bythat contingency. and he's calling on them himself!" "by jupiter!" said ganimard. "the cheek ofthe fellow!" the man, in fact, had walked up to the twopolicemen just as these were preparing to mount their bicycles. he spoke a few wordsto them and then, suddenly, sprang upon a third bicycle, which was leaning against thewall of the cafã©, and rode away quickly with

the two policemen. the englishman burst with laughter: "there, what did i tell you? off before weknew where we were; and with two of your colleagues, m. ganimard! ah, he looks after himself, doesarsã¨ne lupin! with cyclist policemen in his pay! didn't i tell you our friend was a greatdeal too calm!" "what then?" cried ganimard, angrily. "whatcould i do? it's very easy to laugh!" "come, come, don't be cross. we'll have ourrevenge. for the moment, what we want is reinforcements." "folenfant is waiting for me at the end ofthe avenue de neuilly." "all right, pick him up and join me, bothof you."

ganimard went away, while shears followedthe tracks of the bicycles, which were easily visible on the dust of the road because twoof the machines were fitted with grooved tires. and he soon saw that these tracks were leadinghim to the bank of the seine and that the three men had turned in the same directionas bresson on the previous evening. he thus came to the gate against which he himselfhad hidden with ganimard and, a little farther on, he saw a tangle of grooved lines whichshowed that they had stopped there. just opposite, a little neck of land jutted into the riverand, at the end of it, an old boat lay fastened. this was where bresson must have flung hisparcel, or, rather, dropped it. shears went down the incline and saw that, as the banksloped very gently, and the water was low,

he would easily find the parcel ... unlessthe three men had been there first. "no, no," he said to himself, "they have nothad time ... a quarter of an hour at most..... and, yet, why did they come this way?" a man was sitting in the boat, fishing. shearsasked him: "have you seen three men on bicycles?" the angler shook his head. the englishman insisted: "yes, yes.... three men.... they stopped onlya few yards from where you are." the angler put his rod under his arm, tooka note-book from his pocket, wrote something

on one of the pages, tore it out and handedit to shears. a great thrill shook the englishman. at aglance, in the middle of the page which he held in his hand, he recognized the letterstorn from the picture-book: c d e h n o p r z e o—237the sun hung heavily over the river. the angler had resumed his work, sheltered under thehuge brim of his straw hat; his jacket and waistcoat lay folded by his side. he fishedattentively, while the float of his line rocked idly on the current. quite a minute elapsed, a minute of solemnand awful silence. "is it he?" thought shears, with an almostpainful anxiety.

and then the truth burst upon him: "it is he! it is he! he alone is capable ofsitting like that, without a tremor of uneasiness, without the least fear as to what will happen....and who else could know the story of the picture-book? alice must have told him by her messenger." suddenly, the englishman felt that his hand,that his own hand, had seized the butt-end of his revolver and that his eyes were fixedon the man's back, just below the neck. one movement and the whole play was finished;a touch of the trigger and the life of the strange adventurer had come to a miserableend. the angler did not stir.

shears nervously gripped his weapon with afierce longing to fire and have done with it and, at the same time, with horror of adeed against which his nature revolted. death was certain. it would be over. "oh," he thought, "let him get up, let himdefend himself.... if not, he will have only himself to blame.... another second ... andi fire." but a sound of footsteps made him turn hishead and he saw ganimard arrive, accompanied by the inspectors. then, changing his idea, he leapt forward,sprang at one bound into the boat, breaking the painter with the force of the jump, fellupon the man and held him in a close embrace.

they both rolled to the bottom of the boat. "well?" cried lupin, struggling. "and then?what does this prove? suppose one of us reduces the other to impotence: what will he havegained? you will not know what to do with me nor i with you. we shall stay here likea couple of fools!" the two oars slipped into the water. the boatbegan to drift. mingled exclamations resounded along the bank and lupin continued: "lord, what a business! have you lost allsense of things?... fancy being so silly at your age! you great schoolboy! you ought tobe ashamed!" he succeeded in releasing himself.

exasperated, resolved to stick at nothing,shears put his hand in his pocket. an oath escaped him. lupin had taken his revolver. then he threw himself on his knees and triedto catch hold of one of the oars, in order to pull to the shore, while lupin made desperateefforts after the other, in order to pull out to mid-stream. "got it!... missed it!" said lupin. "however,it makes no difference.... if you get your oar, i'll prevent your using it.... and you'lldo as much for me.... but there, in life, we strive to act ... without the least reason,for it's always fate that decides.... there, you see, fate ... well, she's deciding forher old friend lupin!... victory! the current's

favouring me!" the boat, in fact, was drifting away. "look out!" cried lupin. some one, on the bank, pointed a revolver.lupin ducked his head; a shot rang out; a little water spurted up around them. he burstout laughing: "heaven help us, it's friend ganimard!...now that's very wrong of you, ganimard. you have no right to fire except in self-defence....does poor arsã¨ne make you so furious that you forget your duties?... hullo, he's startingagain!... but, wretched man, be careful: you'll hit my dear maã®tre here!"

he made a bulwark of his body for shears and,standing up in the boat, facing ganimard: "there, now i don't mind!... aim here, ganimard,straight at my heart!... higher ... to the left.... missed again ... you clumsy beggar!...another shot?... but you're trembling, ganimard!... at the word of command, eh? and steady now... one, two, three, fire!... missed! dash it all, does the government give you toysfor pistols?" he produced a long, massive, flat revolverand fired without taking aim. the inspector lifted his hand to his hat:a bullet had made a hole through it. "what do you say to that, ganimard? ah, thisis a better make! hats off, gentlemen: this is the revolver of my noble friend, maã®treholmlock shears!"

and he tossed the weapon to the bank, rightat the inspector's feet. shears could not help giving a smile of admiration.what superabundant life! what young and spontaneous gladness! and how he seemed to enjoy himself!it was as though the sense of danger gave him a physical delight, as though life hadno other object for this extraordinary man than the search of dangers which he amusedhimself afterward by averting. meantime, crowds had gathered on either sideof the river and ganimard and his men were following the craft, which swung down thestream, carried very slowly by the current. it meant inevitable, mathematical capture. "confess, maã®tre," cried lupin, turning tothe englishman, "that you would not give up

your seat for all the gold in the transvaal!you are in the first row of the stalls! but, first and before all, the prologue ... afterwhich we will skip straight to the fifth act, the capture or the escape of arsã¨ne lupin.therefore, my dear maã®tre, i have one request to make of you and i beg you to answer yesor no, to save all ambiguity. cease interesting yourself in this business. there is yet timeand i am still able to repair the harm which you have done. later on, i shall not be. doyou agree?" lupin's features contracted. this obstinacywas causing him visible annoyance. he resumed: "i insist. i insist even more for your sakethan my own, for i am certain that you will be the first to regret your interference.once more, yes or no?"

lupin squatted on his heels, shifted one ofthe planks at the bottom of the boat and, for a few minutes, worked at something whichshears could not see. then he rose, sat down beside the englishman and spoke to him inthese words: "i believe, maã®tre, that you and i came tothe river-bank with the same purpose, that of fishing up the object which bresson gotrid of, did we not? i, for my part, had made an appointment to meet a few friends and iwas on the point, as my scanty costume shows, of effecting a little exploration in the depthsof the seine when my friends gave me notice of your approach. i am bound to confess thati was not surprised, having been kept informed, i venture to say, hourly, of the progressof your inquiry. it is so easy! as soon as

the least thing likely to interest me occursin the rue murillo, quick, they ring me up and i know all about it! you can understandthat, in these conditions...." he stopped. the plank which he had removednow rose a trifle and water was filtering in, all around, in driblets. "the deuce! i don't know how i managed it,but i have every reason to think that there's a leak in this old boat. you're not afraid,maã®tre?" shears shrugged his shoulders. lupin continued: "you can understand, therefore, that, in theseconditions and knowing beforehand that you would seek the contest all the more greedilythe more i strove to avoid it, i was rather

pleased at the idea of playing a rubber withyou the result of which is certain, seeing that i hold all the trumps. and i wished togive our meeting the greatest possible publicity, so that your defeat might be universally knownand no new comtesse de crozon nor baron d'imblevalle be tempted to solicit your aid against me.and, in all this, my dear maã®tre, you must not see ..." he interrupted himself again, and, using hishalf-closed hands as a field-glass, he watched the banks: "by jove! they've freighted a splendid cutter,a regular man-of-war's boat, and they're rowing like anything! in five minutes they will boardus and i shall be lost. mr. shears, let me

give you one piece of advice: throw yourselfupon me, tie me hand and foot and deliver me to the law of my country.... does thatsuit you?... unless we suffer shipwreck meanwhile, in which case there will be nothing for usto do but make our wills. what do you say?" their eyes met. this time, shears understoodlupin's operations: he had made a hole in the bottom of the boat. and the water was rising. it reached the solesof their boots. it covered their feet; they did not move. it came above their ankles: the englishmantook his tobacco-pouch, rolled a cigarette and lit it.

lupin continued: "and, in all this, my dear maã®tre, you mustnot see anything more than the humble confession of my powerlessness in face of you. it istantamount to yielding to you, when i accept only those contests in which my victory isassured, in order to avoid those of which i shall not have selected the field. it istantamount to recognizing that holmlock shears is the only enemy whom i fear and proclaimingmy anxiety as long as shears is not removed from my path. this, my dear maã®tre, is whati wished to tell you, on this one occasion when fate has allowed me the honour of a conversationwith you. i regret only one thing, which is that this conversation should take place whilewe are having a foot-bath ... a position lacking

in dignity, i must confess.... and what wasi saying?... a foot-bath!... a hip-bath rather!" the water, in fact, had reached the seat onwhich they were sitting and the boat sank lower and lower in the water. shears sat imperturbable, his cigarette athis lips, apparently wrapped in contemplation of the sky. for nothing in the world, in theface of that man surrounded by dangers, hemmed in by the crowd, hunted down by a posse ofpolice and yet always retaining his good humour, for nothing in the world would he have consentedto display the least sign of agitation. "what!" they both seemed to be saying. "dopeople get excited about such trifles? is it not a daily occurrence to get drowned ina river? is this the sort of event that deserves

to be noticed?" and the one chattered and the other mused,while both concealed under the same mask of indifference the formidable clash of theirrespective prides. another minute and they would sink. "the essential thing," said lupin, "is toknow if we shall sink before or after the arrival of the champions of the law! all dependsupon that. for the question of shipwreck is no longer in doubt. maã®tre, the solemn momenthas come to make our wills. i leave all my real and personal estate to holmlock shears,a citizen of the british empire.... but, by jove, how fast they are coming, those championsof the law! oh, the dear people! it's a pleasure

to watch them! what precision of stroke! ah,is that you, sergeant folenfant? well done! that idea of the man-of-war's cutter was capital.i shall recommend you to your superiors, sergeant folenfant.... and weren't you hoping for amedal? right you are! consider it yours!... and where's your friend dieuzy? on the leftbank, i suppose, in the midst of a hundred natives.... so that, if i escape shipwreck,i shall be picked up on the left by dieuzy and his natives or else on the right by ganimardand the neuilly tribes. a nasty dilemma...." there was an eddy. the boat swung round andshears was obliged to cling to the row-locks. "maã®tre," said lupin, "i beg of you to takeoff your jacket. you will be more comfortable for swimming. you won't? then i shall puton mine again."

he slipped on his jacket, buttoned it tightlylike shears's and sighed: "what a fine fellow you are! and what a pitythat you should persist in a business ... in which you are certainly doing the very bestyou can, but all in vain! really, you are throwing away your distinguished talent." "m. lupin," said shears, at last abandoninghis silence, "you talk a great deal too much and you often err through excessive confidenceand frivolity." "that's a serious reproach." "it was in this way that, without knowingit, you supplied me, a moment ago, with the information i wanted."

"what! you wanted some information, and younever told me!" "i don't require you or anybody. in threehours' time i shall hand the solution of the puzzle to m. and reply ..." he did not finish his sentence. the boat hadsuddenly foundered, dragging them both with her. she rose to the surface at once, overturned,with her keel in the air. loud shouts came from the two banks, followed by an anxioussilence and, suddenly, fresh cries: one of the shipwrecked men had reappeared. it was holmlock shears. an excellent swimmer, he struck out boldlyfor folenfant's boat.

"cheerly, mr. shears!" roared the detective-sergeant."you're all right!... keep on ... we'll see about him afterward.... we've got him rightenough ... one more effort, mr. shears ... catch hold...." the englishman seized a rope which they threwto him. but, while they were dragging him on board, a voice behind him called out: "yes, my dear maã®tre, you shall have thesolution. i am even surprised that you have not hit upon it already.... and then? whatuse will it be to you? it's just then that you will have lost the battle...." seated comfortably astride the hulk, of whichhe had scaled the sides while talking, arsã¨ne

lupin continued his speech with solemn gesturesand as though he hoped to convince his hearers: "do you understand, my dear maã®tre, thatthere is nothing to be done, absolutely nothing.... you are in the deplorable position of a gentlemanwho ..." folenfant took aim at him: "lupin, surrender!" "you're an ill-bred person, sergeant folenfant;you've interrupted me in the middle of a sentence. i was saying ..." "but, dash it all, sergeant folenfant, oneonly surrenders when in danger! now surely you have not the face to believe that i amrunning the least danger!"

"for the last time, lupin, i call on you tosurrender!" "sergeant folenfant, you have not the smallestintention of killing me; at the most you mean to wound me, you're so afraid of my escaping!and supposing that, by accident, the wound should be mortal? oh, think of your remorse,wretched man, of your blighted old age ..." the shot went off. lupin staggered, clung for a moment to theoverturned boat, then let go and disappeared. it was just three o'clock when these eventshappened. at six o'clock precisely, as he had declared, holmlock shears, clad in a pairof trousers too short and a jacket too tight for him, which he had borrowed from an inn-keeperat neuilly, and wearing a cap and a flannel

shirt with a silk cord and tassels, enteredthe boudoir in the rue murillo, after sending word to m. and mme. d'imblevalle to ask foran interview. they found him walking up and down. and helooked to them so comical in his queer costume that they had a difficulty in suppressingtheir inclination to laugh. with a pensive air and a bent back, he walked, like an automaton,from the window to the door and the door to the window, taking each time the same numberof steps and turning each time in the same direction. he stopped, took up a knick-knack, examinedit mechanically and then resumed his walk. at last, planting himself in front of them,he asked:

"is mademoiselle here?" "yes, in the garden, with the children." "monsieur le baron, as this will be our finalconversation, i should like mlle. demun to be present at it." "so you decidedly...?" "have a little patience, monsieur. the truthwill emerge plainly from the facts which i propose to lay before you with the greatestpossible precision." "very well. suzanne, do you mind...?" mme. d'imblevalle rose and returned almostat once, accompanied by alice demun. mademoiselle,

looking a little paler than usual, remainedstanding, leaning against a table and without even asking to know why she had been sentfor. shears appeared not to see her and, turningabruptly toward m. d'imblevalle, made his statement in a tone that admitted of no reply: "after an inquiry extending over several days,and although certain events for a moment altered my view, i will repeat what i said from thefirst, that the jewish lamp was stolen by some one living in this house." "the name?" "i know it."

"your evidence?" "the evidence which i have is enough to confoundthe culprit." "it is not enough that the culprit shouldbe confounded. he must restore...." "the jewish lamp? it is in my possession!" "the opal necklace? the snuff-box?..." "the opal necklace, the snuff-box, in shorteverything that was stolen on the second occasion is in my possession." shears loved this dry, claptrap way of announcinghis triumphs. as a matter of fact, the baron and his wifeseemed stupefied and looked at him with a

silent curiosity which was, in itself, thehighest praise. he next summed up in detail all that he haddone during those three days. he told how he had discovered the picture-book, wrotedown on a sheet of paper the sentence formed by the letters which had been cut out, thendescribed bresson's expedition to the bank of the seine and his suicide and, lastly,the struggle in which he, shears, had just been engaged with lupin, the wreck of theboat and lupin's disappearance. when he had finished, the baron said, in alow voice: "nothing remains but that you should revealthe name of the thief. whom do you accuse?" "i accuse the person who cut out the lettersfrom this alphabet and communicated, by means

of those letters, with arsã¨ne lupin." "how do you know that this person's correspondentwas arsã¨ne lupin?" "from lupin himself." he held out a scrap of moist and crumpledpaper. it was the page which lupin had torn from his note-book in the boat, and on whichhe had written the sentence. "and observe," said shears, in a gratifiedvoice, "that there was nothing to compel him to give me this paper and thus make himselfknown. it was a mere schoolboy prank on his part, which gave me the information i wanted." "what information?" asked the baron. "i don'tsee...."

shears copied out the letters and figuresin pencil: c d e h n o p r z e o—237"well?" said m. d'imblevalle. "that's the formula which you have just shown us yourself." "no. if you had turned this formula over andover, as i have done, you would have seen at once that it contains two more lettersthan the first, an e and an o." "as a matter of fact, i did not notice...." "place these two letters beside the c andh which remained over from the word rã©pondez, and you will see that the only possible wordis 'ã‰cho.'" "which means the ã‰cho de france, lupin'snewspaper, his own organ, the one for which

he reserves his official communications. 'sendreply to the ã‰cho de france, agony column, no. 237.' that was the key for which i hadhunted so long and with which lupin was kind enough to supply me. i have just come fromthe office of the ã‰cho de france." "and what have you found?" "i have found the whole detailed story ofthe relations between arsã¨ne lupin and ... his accomplice." and shears spread out seven newspapers, openedat the fourth page, and picked out the following lines: ars. lup. lady impl. protect. 540.540. awaiting explanations. a. l.

a. l. under dominion of enemy. lost.540. write address. will make enq. a. l. murillo.540. park 3 p. m. violets. 237. agreed sat. shall be park. sun. morn. "and you call that a detailed story!" exclaimedm. d'imblevalle. "why, of course; and, if you will pay attention,you will think the same. first of all, a lady, signing herself 540, implores the protectionof arsã¨ne lupin. to this lupin replies with a request for explanations. the lady answersthat she is under the dominion of an enemy, bresson, no doubt, and that she is lost unlesssome one comes to her assistance. lupin, who is suspicious and dares not yet have an interviewwith the stranger, asks for the address and

suggests an inquiry. the lady hesitates forfour days—see the dates—and, at last, under the pressure of events and the influenceof bresson's threats, gives the name of her street, the rue murillo. the next day, arsã¨nelupin advertises that he will be in the parc monceau at three o'clock and asks the strangerto wear a bunch of violets as a token. here follows an interruption of eight days in thecorrespondence. arsã¨ne lupin and the lady no longer need write through the medium ofthe paper: they see each other or correspond direct. the plot is contrived: to satisfybresson's requirements, the lady will take the jewish lamp. it remains to fix the day.the lady, who, from motives of prudence, corresponds by means of words cut out and stuck together,decides upon saturday, and adds, 'send reply

ã‰cho 237.' lupin replies that it is agreedand that, moreover, he will be in the park on sunday morning. on sunday morning, thetheft took place." "yes, everything fits in," said the baron,approvingly, "and the story is complete." shears continued: "so the theft took place. the lady goes outon sunday morning, tells lupin what she has done and carries the jewish lamp to bresson.things then happen as lupin foresaw. the police, misled by an open window, four holes in theground and two scratches on a balcony, at once accept the burglary suggestion. the ladyis easy in her mind." "very well," said the baron. "i accept thisexplanation as perfectly logical. but the

second theft...." "the second theft was provoked by the first.after the newspapers had told how the jewish lamp had disappeared, some one thought ofreturning to the attack and seizing hold of everything that had not been carried away.and, this time, it was not a pretended theft, but a real theft, with a genuine burglary,ladders, and so on." "lupin, of course...?" "no, lupin does not act so stupidly. lupindoes not fire at people without very good reason." "then who was it?"

"bresson, no doubt, unknown to the lady whomhe had been blackmailing. it was bresson who broke in here, whom i pursued, who woundedmy poor wilson." "are you quite sure?" "absolutely. one of bresson's accompliceswrote him a letter yesterday, before his suicide, which shows that this accomplice and lupinhad entered upon a parley for the restitution of all the articles stolen from your house.lupin demanded everything, 'the first thing,' that is to say, the jewish lamp, 'as wellas those of the second business.' moreover, he watched bresson. when bresson went to thebank of the seine yesterday evening, one of lupin's associates was dogging him at thesame time as ourselves."

"what was bresson doing at the bank of theseine?" "warned of the progress of my inquiry...." "warned by whom?" "by the same lady, who very rightly fearedlest the discovery of the jewish lamp should entail the discovery of her adventure....bresson, therefore, warned, collected into one parcel all that might compromise him anddropped it in a place where it would be possible for him to recover it, once the danger waspast. it was on his return that, hunted down by ganimard and me and doubtless having othercrimes on his conscience, he lost his head and shot himself."

"but what did the parcel contain?" "the jewish lamp and your other things." "then they are not in your possession?" "immediately after lupin's disappearance,i took advantage of the bath which he had compelled me to take to drive to the spotchosen by bresson; and i found your stolen property wrapped up in linen and oil-skin.here it is, on the table." without a word, the baron cut the string,tore through the pieces of wet linen, took out the lamp, turned a screw under the foot,pressed with both hands on the receiver, opened it into two equal parts and revealed the goldenchimera, set with rubies and emeralds. it

was untouched. in all this scene, apparently so natural andconsisting of a simple statement of facts, there was something that made it terriblytragic, which was the formal, direct, irrefutable accusation which shears hurled at mademoisellewith every word he uttered. and there was also alice demun's impressive silence. during that long, that cruel accumulationof small super-added proofs, not a muscle of her face had moved, not a gleam of rebellionor fear had disturbed the serenity of her limpid glance. what was she thinking? and,still more, what would she say at the solemn moment when she must reply, when she mustdefend herself and break the iron circle in

which the englishman had so cleverly imprisonedher? the moment had struck, and the girl was silent. "speak! speak!" cried m. d'imblevalle. she did not speak. "one word will clear you.... one word of protestand i will believe you." that word she did not utter. the baron stepped briskly across the room,returned, went back again and then, addressing shears: "well, no, sir! i refuse to believe it true!there are some crimes which are impossible!

and this is opposed to all that i know, allthat i have seen for a year." he put his hand on the englishman's shoulder. "but are youyourself, sir, absolutely and definitely sure that you are not mistaken?" shears hesitated, like a man attacked unawares,who does not defend himself at once. however, he smiled and said: "no one but the person whom i accuse could,thanks to the position which she fills in your house, know that the jewish lamp containedthat magnificent jewel." "i refuse to believe it," muttered the baron. "ask her."

it was, in fact, the one thing which he hadnot tried, in the blind confidence which he felt in the girl. but it was no longer permissibleto deny the evidence. he went up to her and, looking her straightin the eyes: "was it you, mademoiselle? did you take thejewel? did you correspond with arsã¨ne lupin and sham the burglary?" she replied: "yes, monsieur." she did not lower her head. her face expressedneither shame nor embarrassment. "is it possible?" stammered m. d'imblevalle."i would never have believed ... you are the

last person i should have suspected.... howdid you do it, unhappy girl?" she said: "i did as mr. shears has said. on saturdaynight, i came down here to the boudoir, took the lamp and, in the morning, carried it ... tothat man." "but no," objected the baron; "what you sayis impossible." "impossible! why?" "because i found the door of the boudoir lockedin the morning." she coloured, lost countenance and lookedat shears as though to ask his advice. the englishman seemed struck by alice's embarrassmenteven more than by the baron's objection. had

she, then, no reply to make? did the confessionthat confirmed the explanation which he, shears, had given of the theft of the jewish lampconceal a lie which an examination of the facts at once laid bare? the baron continued: "the door was locked, i repeat. i declarethat i found the bolt as i left it at night. if you had come that way, as you pretend,someone must have opened the door to you from the inside—that is to say, from the boudoiror from our bedroom. now there was no one in these two rooms ... no one except my wifeand myself." shears bent down quickly and covered his facewith his two hands to hide it. he had flushed

scarlet. something resembling too sudden alight had struck him and left him dazed and ill at ease. the whole stood revealed to himlike a dim landscape from which the darkness was suddenly lifting. alice demun was innocent. alice demun was innocent. that was a certain,blinding fact and, at the same time, explained the sort of embarrassment which he had feltsince the first day at directing the terrible accusation against this young girl. he sawclearly now. he knew. it needed but a movement and, then and there, the irrefutable proofwould stand forth before him. he raised his head and, after a few seconds,as naturally as he could, turned his eyes

toward mme. d'imblevalle. she was pale, with that unaccustomed pallorthat overcomes us at the relentless hours of life. her hands, which she strove to hide,trembled imperceptibly. "another second," thought shears, "and shewill have betrayed herself." he placed himself between her and her husband,with the imperious longing to ward off the terrible danger which, through his fault,threatened this man and this woman. but, at the sight of the baron, he shuddered to thevery depths of his being. the same sudden revelation which had dazzled him with itsbrilliancy was now enlightening m. d'imblevalle. the same thought was working in the husband'sbrain. he understood in his turn! he saw!

desperately, alice demun strove to resistthe implacable truth: "you are right, monsieur; i made a mistake.as a matter of fact, i did not come in this way. i went through the hall and the gardenand, with the help of a ladder...." it was a supreme effort of devotion ... buta useless effort! the words did not ring true. the voice had lost its assurance and the sweetgirl was no longer able to retain her limpid glance and her great air of sincerity. shehung her head, defeated. the silence was frightful. mme. d'imblevallewaited, her features livid and drawn with anguish and fear. the baron seemed to be stillstruggling, as though refusing to believe in the downfall of his happiness.

at last he stammered: "speak! explain yourself!" "i have nothing to say, my poor friend," shesaid, in a very low voice her features wrung with despair. "then ... mademoiselle...?" "mademoiselle saved me ... through devotion... through affection ... and accused herself...." "saved you from what? from whom?" "from that man." "bresson?"

"yes, he held me by his threats.... i methim at a friend's house ... and i had the madness to listen to him. oh, there was nothingthat you cannot forgive!... but i wrote him two letters ... you shall see them.... i boughtthem back ... you know how.... oh, have pity on me.... i have been so unhappy!" "you! you! suzanne!" he raised his clenched fists to her, readyto beat her, ready to kill her. but his arms fell to his sides and he murmured again: "you, suzanne!... you!... is it possible?" in short, abrupt sentences, she told the heartbreakingand commonplace story: her terrified awakening

in the face of the man's infamy, her remorse,her madness; and she also described alice's admirable conduct: the girl suspecting hermistress's despair, forcing a confession from her, writing to lupin and contriving thisstory of a robbery to save her from bresson's clutches. "you, suzanne, you!" repeated m. d'imblevalle,bent double, overwhelmed. "how could you...?" on the evening of the same day, the steamerville de londres, from calais to dover, was gliding slowly over the motionless water.the night was dark and calm. peaceful clouds were suggested rather than seen above theboat and, all around, light veils of mist separated her from the infinite space in whichthe moon and stars were shedding their cold,

but invisible radiance. most of the passengers had gone to the cabinsand saloons. a few of them, however, bolder than the rest, were walking up and down thedeck or else dozing under thick rugs in the big rocking-chairs. here and there the gleamshowed of a cigar; and, mingling with the gentle breath of the wind, came the murmurof voices that dared not rise high in the great solemn silence. one of the passengers, who was walking toand fro with even strides, stopped beside a person stretched out on a bench, lookedat her and, when she moved slightly, said: "i thought you were asleep, mlle. alice."

"no, mr. shears, i do not feel sleepy. i wasthinking." "what of? is it indiscreet to ask?" "i was thinking of mme. d'imblevalle. howsad she must be! her life is ruined." "not at all, not at all," he said, eagerly."her fault is not one of those which can never be forgiven. m. d'imblevalle will forget thatlapse. already, when we left, he was looking at her less harshly." "perhaps ... but it will take long to forget... and she is suffering." "are you very fond of her?" "very. that gave me such strength to smilewhen i was trembling with fear, to look you

in the face when i wanted to avoid your glance." "and are you unhappy at leaving her?" "most unhappy. i have no relations or friends....i had only her...." "you shall have friends," said the englishman,whom this grief was upsetting, "i promise you that.... i have connections.... i havemuch influence.... i assure you that you will not regret your position...." "perhaps, but mme. d'imblevalle will not bethere...." they exchanged no more words. holmlock shearstook two or three more turns along the deck and then came back and settled down near histravelling-companion.

the misty curtain lifted and the clouds seemedto part in the sky. stars twinkled up above. shears took his pipe from the pocket of hisinverness cape, filled it and struck four matches, one after the other, without succeedingin lighting it. as he had none left, he rose and said to a gentleman seated a few stepsoff: "could you oblige me with a light, please?" the gentleman opened a box of fusees and struckone. a flame blazed up. by its light, shears saw arsã¨ne lupin. if the englishman had not given a tiny movement,an almost imperceptible movement of recoil, lupin might have thought that his presenceon board was known to him, so great was the

mastery which shears retained over himselfand so natural the ease with which he held out his hand to his adversary: "keeping well, m. lupin?" "bravo!" exclaimed lupin, from whom this self-commanddrew a cry of admiration. "bravo?... what for?" "what for? you see me reappear before youlike a ghost, after witnessing my dive into the seine, and, from pride, from a miraculouspride which i will call essentially british, you give not a movement of astonishment, youutter not a word of surprise! upon my word, i repeat, bravo! it's admirable!"

"there's nothing admirable about it. fromthe way you fell off the boat, i could see that you fell of your own accord and thatyou had not been struck by the sergeant's shot." "and you went away without knowing what becameof me?" "what became of you? i knew. five hundredpeople were commanding the two banks over a distance of three-quarters of a mile. onceyou escaped death, your capture was certain." "and yet i'm here!" "m. lupin, there are two men in the worldof whom nothing can astonish me: myself first and you next."

peace was concluded. if shears had failed in his undertakings againstarsã¨ne lupin, if lupin remained the exceptional enemy whom he must definitely renounce allattempts to capture, if, in the course of the engagements, lupin always preserved hissuperiority, the englishman had, nevertheless, thanks to his formidable tenacity, recoveredthe jewish lamp, just as he had recovered the blue diamond. perhaps, this time, theresult was less brilliant, especially from the point of view of the public, since shearswas obliged to suppress the circumstances in which the jewish lamp had been discoveredand to proclaim that he did not know the culprit's name. but, as between man and man, betweenlupin and shears, between burglar and detective,

there was, in all fairness, neither victornor vanquished. each of them could lay claim to equal triumphs. they talked, therefore, like courteous adversarieswho have laid down their arms and who esteem each other at their true worth. at shears's request, lupin described his escape. "if, indeed," he said, "you can call it anescape. it was so simple! my friends were on the watch, since we had arranged to meetin order to fish up the jewish lamp. and so, after remaining a good half-hour under theoverturned keel of the boat, i took advantage of a moment when folenfant and his men werelooking for my corpse along the banks and

i climbed on to the wreck again. my friendshad only to pick me up in their motor-boat and to dash off before the astounded eyesof the five hundred sightseers, ganimard and folenfant." "very pretty!" cried shears. "most successful!and now have you business in england?" "yes, a few accounts to settle.... but i wasforgetting.... m. d'imblevalle...?" "he knows all." "ah, my dear maã®tre, what did i tell you?the harm's done now, beyond repair. would it not have been better to let me go to workin my own way? a day or two more and i should have recovered the jewish lamp and the otherthings from bresson and sent them back to

the d'imblevalles; and those two good peoplewould have gone on living peacefully together. instead of which...." "instead of which," snarled shears, "i havemuddled everything up and brought discord into a family which you were protecting." "well, yes, if you like, protecting! is itindispensable that one should always steal, cheat and do harm?" "so you do good also?" "when i have time. besides, it amuses me.i think it extremely funny that, in the present adventure, i should be the good genius whorescues and saves and you the wicked genius

who brings despair and tears." "certainly! the d'imblevalle home is brokenup and alice demun is weeping." "she could not have remained.... ganimardwould have ended by discovering her ... and through her they would have worked back tomme. d'imblevalle." "quite of your opinion, maã®tre; but whosefault was it?" two men passed in front of them. shears saidto lupin, in a voice the tone of which seemed a little altered: "do you know who those two gentlemen are?" "i think one was the captain of the boat."

"i don't know." "it is mr. austin gilett. and mr. austin gilettoccupies in england a post which corresponds with that of your m. dudouis." "oh, what luck! would you have the kindnessto introduce me? m. dudouis is a great friend of mine and i should like to be able to sayas much of mr. austin gilett." the two gentlemen reappeared. "and, suppose i were to take you at your word,m. lupin...?" said shears, rising. he had seized arsã¨ne lupin's wrist and heldit in a grip of steel. "why grip me so hard, maã®tre? i am quiteready to go with you."

he allowed himself, in fact, to be draggedalong, without the least resistance. the two gentlemen were walking away from them. shears increased his pace. his nails dug intolupin's very flesh. "come along, come along!" he said, under hisbreath, in a sort of fevered haste to settle everything as quickly as possible. "come along!quick!" but he stopped short: alice demun had followedthem. "what are you doing, mademoiselle? you neednot trouble to come!" it was lupin who replied: "i beg you to observe, maã®tre, that mademoiselleis not coming of her own free will. i am holding

her wrist with an energy similar to that whichyou are applying to mine." "and why?" "why? well, i am bent upon introducing heralso. her part in the story of the jewish lamp is even more important than mine. asan accomplice of arsã¨ne lupin, and of bresson as well, she too must tell the adventure ofthe baronne d'imblevalle ... which is sure to interest the police immensely. and in thisway you will have pushed your kind interference to its last limits, o generous shears!" the englishman had released his prisoner'swrist. lupin let go of mademoiselle's. they stood, for a few seconds, without moving,looking at one another. then shears went back

to his bench and sat down. lupin and the girlresumed their places. a long silence divided them. then lupin said: "you see, maã®tre, do what we may, we shallnever be in the same camp. you will always be on one side of the ditch, i on the other.we can nod, shake hands, exchange a word or two; but the ditch is always there. you willalways be, holmlock shears, detective, and i arsã¨ne lupin, burglar. and holmlock shearswill always, more or less spontaneously, more or less seasonably, obey his instinct as adetective, which is to hound down the burglar and 'run him in' if possible. and arsã¨nelupin will always be consistent with his burglar's soul in avoiding the grasp of the detectiveand laughing at him if he can. and, this time,

he can! ha, ha, ha!" he burst into a cunning, cruel and detestablelaugh.... then, suddenly becoming serious, he leaned toward the girl: "be sure, mademoiselle, that, though reducedto the last extremity, i would not have betrayed you. arsã¨ne lupin never betrays, especiallythose whom he likes and admires. and you must permit me to say that i like and admire thedear, plucky creature that you are." he took a visiting-card from his pocketbook,tore it in two, gave one-half to the girl and, in a touched and respectful voice: "if mr. shears does not succeed in his steps,mademoiselle, pray go to lady strongborough,

whose address you can easily find out, handher this half-card and say, 'faithful memories!' lady strongborough will show you the devotionof a sister." "thank you," said the girl, "i will go toher to-morrow." "and now, maã®tre," cried lupin, in the satisfiedtone of a man who has done his duty, "let me bid you good night. the mist has delayedus and there is still time to take forty winks." he stretched himself at full length and crossedhis hands behind his head. the sky had opened before the moon. she shedher radiant brightness around the stars and over the sea. it floated upon the water; andspace, in which the last mists were dissolving, seemed to belong to it.

the line of the coast stood out against thedark horizon. passengers came up on deck, which was now covered with people. mr. austingilett passed in the company of two men whom shears recognized as members of the englishdetective-force. on his bench, lupin slept ...

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