diff options
Diffstat (limited to 'old/4014-h.htm')
| -rw-r--r-- | old/4014-h.htm | 16063 |
1 files changed, 16063 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/old/4014-h.htm b/old/4014-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..738ca46 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/4014-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,16063 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" /> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Arsène Lupin, by Edgar Jepson and Maurice Leblanc</title> + +<style type="text/css"> + +body { margin-left: 20%; + margin-right: 20%; + text-align: justify; } + +h1, h2, h3, h4, h5 {text-align: center; font-style: normal; font-weight: +normal; line-height: 1.5; margin-top: .5em; margin-bottom: .5em;} + +h1 {font-size: 300%; + margin-top: 0.6em; + margin-bottom: 0.6em; + letter-spacing: 0.12em; + word-spacing: 0.2em; + text-indent: 0em;} +h2 {font-size: 150%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 1em;} +h3 {font-size: 130%; margin-top: 1em;} +h4 {font-size: 120%;} +h5 {font-size: 110%;} + +.no-break {page-break-before: avoid;} /* for epubs */ + +div.chapter {page-break-before: always; margin-top: 4em;} + +hr {width: 80%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} + +p {text-indent: 1em; + margin-top: 0.25em; + margin-bottom: 0.25em; } + +p.letter {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +p.noindent {text-indent: 0% } + +a:link {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:visited {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:hover {color:red} + +</style> + +</head> + +<body> + +<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Arsène Lupin, by Edgar Jepson and Maurice Leblanc</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and +most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions +whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms +of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online +at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you +are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the +country where you are located before using this eBook. +</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Arsène Lupin</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Edgar Jepson and Maurice Leblanc</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: October 9, 2001 [eBook #4014]<br /> +[Last updated: July 3, 2022]</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. HTML version by Al Haines.</div> +<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ARSÈNE LUPIN ***</div> + +<h1>ARSÈNE LUPIN</h1> + +<h2 class="no-break">By EDGAR JEPSON AND MAURICE LEBLANC</h2> + +<h4>Frontispiece by H. Richard Boehm</h4> + +<h2>Contents</h2> + +<table summary="" style=""> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap01">CHAPTER I THE MILLIONAIRE’S DAUGHTER</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap02">CHAPTER II THE COMING OF THE CHAROLAIS</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap03">CHAPTER III LUPIN’S WAY</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap04">CHAPTER IV THE DUKE INTERVENES</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap05">CHAPTER V A LETTER FROM LUPIN</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap06">CHAPTER VI AGAIN THE CHAROLAIS</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap07">CHAPTER VII THE THEFT OF THE MOTOR-CARS</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap08">CHAPTER VIII THE DUKE ARRIVES</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap09">CHAPTER IX M. FORMERY OPENS THE INQUIRY</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap10">CHAPTER X GUERCHARD ASSISTS</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap11">CHAPTER XI THE FAMILY ARRIVES</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap12">CHAPTER XII THE THEFT OF THE PENDANT</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap13">CHAPTER XIII LUPIN WIRES</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap14">CHAPTER XIV GUERCHARD PICKS UP THE TRUE SCENT</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap15">CHAPTER XV THE EXAMINATION OF SONIA</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap16">CHAPTER XVI VICTOIRE’S SLIP</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap17">CHAPTER XVII SONIA’S ESCAPE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap18">CHAPTER XVIII THE DUKE STAYS</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap19">CHAPTER XIX THE DUKE GOES</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap20">CHAPTER XX LUPIN COMES HOME</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap21">CHAPTER XXI THE CUTTING OF THE TELEPHONE WIRES</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap22">CHAPTER XXII THE BARGAIN</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap23">CHAPTER XXIII THE END OF THE DUEL</a></td> +</tr> + +</table> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2>ARSÈNE LUPIN</h2> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap01"></a>CHAPTER I<br/> +THE MILLIONAIRE’S DAUGHTER</h2> + +<p> +The rays of the September sun flooded the great halls of the old château of the +Dukes of Charmerace, lighting up with their mellow glow the spoils of so many +ages and many lands, jumbled together with the execrable taste which so often +afflicts those whose only standard of value is money. The golden light warmed +the panelled walls and old furniture to a dull lustre, and gave back to the +fading gilt of the First Empire chairs and couches something of its old +brightness. It illumined the long line of pictures on the walls, pictures of +dead and gone Charmeraces, the stern or debonair faces of the men, soldiers, +statesmen, dandies, the gentle or imperious faces of beautiful women. It +flashed back from armour of brightly polished steel, and drew dull gleams from +armour of bronze. The hues of rare porcelain, of the rich inlays of Oriental or +Renaissance cabinets, mingled with the hues of the pictures, the tapestry, the +Persian rugs about the polished floor to fill the hall with a rich glow of +colour. +</p> + +<p> +But of all the beautiful and precious things which the sun-rays warmed to a +clearer beauty, the face of the girl who sat writing at a table in front of the +long windows, which opened on to the centuries-old turf of the broad terrace, +was the most beautiful and the most precious. +</p> + +<p> +It was a delicate, almost frail, beauty. Her skin was clear with the +transparent lustre of old porcelain, and her pale cheeks were only tinted with +the pink of the faintest roses. Her straight nose was delicately cut, her +rounded chin admirably moulded. A lover of beauty would have been at a loss +whether more to admire her clear, germander eyes, so melting and so adorable, +or the sensitive mouth, with its rather full lips, inviting all the kisses. But +assuredly he would have been grieved by the perpetual air of sadness which +rested on the beautiful face—the wistful melancholy of the Slav, deepened +by something of personal misfortune and suffering. +</p> + +<p> +Her face was framed by a mass of soft fair hair, shot with strands of gold +where the sunlight fell on it; and little curls, rebellious to the comb, +strayed over her white forehead, tiny feathers of gold. +</p> + +<p> +She was addressing envelopes, and a long list of names lay on her left hand. +When she had addressed an envelope, she slipped into it a wedding-card. On each +was printed: +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +“M. Gournay-Martin has the honour to inform<br/> +you of the marriage of his daughter<br/> +Germaine to the Duke of Charmerace.” +</p> + +<p> +She wrote steadily on, adding envelope after envelope to the pile ready for the +post, which rose in front of her. But now and again, when the flushed and +laughing girls who were playing lawn-tennis on the terrace, raised their voices +higher than usual as they called the score, and distracted her attention from +her work, her gaze strayed through the open window and lingered on them +wistfully; and as her eyes came back to her task she sighed with so faint a +wistfulness that she hardly knew she sighed. Then a voice from the terrace +cried, “Sonia! Sonia!” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. Mlle. Germaine?” answered the writing girl. +</p> + +<p> +“Tea! Order tea, will you?” cried the voice, a petulant voice, +rather harsh to the ear. +</p> + +<p> +“Very well, Mlle. Germaine,” said Sonia; and having finished +addressing the envelope under her pen, she laid it on the pile ready to be +posted, and, crossing the room to the old, wide fireplace, she rang the bell. +</p> + +<p> +She stood by the fireplace a moment, restoring to its place a rose which had +fallen from a vase on the mantelpiece; and her attitude, as with arms upraised +she arranged the flowers, displayed the delightful line of a slender figure. As +she let fall her arms to her side, a footman entered the room. +</p> + +<p> +“Will you please bring the tea, Alfred,” she said in a charming +voice of that pure, bell-like tone which has been Nature’s most precious +gift to but a few of the greatest actresses. +</p> + +<p> +“For how many, miss?” said Alfred. +</p> + +<p> +“For four—unless your master has come back.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, no; he’s not back yet, miss. He went in the car to Rennes to +lunch; and it’s a good many miles away. He won’t be back for +another hour.” +</p> + +<p> +“And the Duke—he’s not back from his ride yet, is he?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not yet, miss,” said Alfred, turning to go. +</p> + +<p> +“One moment,” said Sonia. “Have all of you got your things +packed for the journey to Paris? You will have to start soon, you know. Are all +the maids ready?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, all the men are ready, I know, miss. But about the maids, miss, I +can’t say. They’ve been bustling about all day; but it takes them +longer than it does us.” +</p> + +<p> +“Tell them to hurry up; and be as quick as you can with the tea, +please,” said Sonia. +</p> + +<p> +Alfred went out of the room; Sonia went back to the writing-table. She did not +take up her pen; she took up one of the wedding-cards; and her lips moved +slowly as she read it in a pondering depression. +</p> + +<p> +The petulant, imperious voice broke in upon her musing. +</p> + +<p> +“Whatever are you doing, Sonia? Aren’t you getting on with those +letters?” it cried angrily; and Germaine Gournay-Martin came through the +long window into the hall. +</p> + +<p> +The heiress to the Gournay-Martin millions carried her tennis racquet in her +hand; and her rosy cheeks were flushed redder than ever by the game. She was a +pretty girl in a striking, high-coloured, rather obvious way—the very +foil to Sonia’s delicate beauty. Her lips were a little too thin, her +eyes too shallow; and together they gave her a rather hard air, in strongest +contrast to the gentle, sympathetic face of Sonia. +</p> + +<p> +The two friends with whom Germaine had been playing tennis followed her into +the hall: Jeanne Gautier, tall, sallow, dark, with a somewhat malicious air; +Marie Bullier, short, round, commonplace, and sentimental. +</p> + +<p> +They came to the table at which Sonia was at work; and pointing to the pile of +envelopes, Marie said, “Are these all wedding-cards?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; and we’ve only got to the letter V,” said Germaine, +frowning at Sonia. +</p> + +<p> +“Princesse de Vernan—Duchesse de +Vauvieuse—Marquess—Marchioness? You’ve invited the whole +Faubourg Saint-Germain,” said Marie, shuffling the pile of envelopes with +an envious air. +</p> + +<p> +“You’ll know very few people at your wedding,” said Jeanne, +with a spiteful little giggle. +</p> + +<p> +“I beg your pardon, my dear,” said Germaine boastfully. +“Madame de Relzières, my fiance’s cousin, gave an At Home the other +day in my honour. At it she introduced half Paris to me—the Paris +I’m destined to know, the Paris you’ll see in my +drawing-rooms.” +</p> + +<p> +“But we shall no longer be fit friends for you when you’re the +Duchess of Charmerace,” said Jeanne. +</p> + +<p> +“Why?” said Germaine; and then she added quickly, “Above +everything, Sonia, don’t forget Veauléglise, 33, University +Street—33, University Street.” +</p> + +<p> +“Veauléglise—33, University Street,” said Sonia, taking a +fresh envelope, and beginning to address it. +</p> + +<p> +“Wait—wait! don’t close the envelope. I’m wondering +whether Veauléglise ought to have a cross, a double cross, or a triple +cross,” said Germaine, with an air of extreme importance. +</p> + +<p> +“What’s that?” cried Marie and Jeanne together. +</p> + +<p> +“A single cross means an invitation to the church, a double cross an +invitation to the marriage and the wedding-breakfast, and the triple cross +means an invitation to the marriage, the breakfast, and the signing of the +marriage-contract. What do you think the Duchess of Veauléglise ought to +have?” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t ask me. I haven’t the honour of knowing that great +lady,” cried Jeanne. +</p> + +<p> +“Nor I,” said Marie. +</p> + +<p> +“Nor I,” said Germaine. “But I have here the visiting-list of +the late Duchess of Charmerace, Jacques’ mother. The two duchesses were +on excellent terms. Besides the Duchess of Veauléglise is rather worn-out, but +greatly admired for her piety. She goes to early service three times a +week.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then put three crosses,” said Jeanne. +</p> + +<p> +“I shouldn’t,” said Marie quickly. “In your place, my +dear, I shouldn’t risk a slip. I should ask my fiance’s advice. He +knows this world.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, goodness—my fiance! He doesn’t care a rap about this +kind of thing. He has changed so in the last seven years. Seven years ago he +took nothing seriously. Why, he set off on an expedition to the South +Pole—just to show off. Oh, in those days he was truly a duke.” +</p> + +<p> +“And to-day?” said Jeanne. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, to-day he’s a regular slow-coach. Society gets on his nerves. +He’s as sober as a judge,” said Germaine. +</p> + +<p> +“He’s as gay as a lark,” said Sonia, in sudden protest. +</p> + +<p> +Germaine pouted at her, and said: “Oh, he’s gay enough when +he’s making fun of people. But apart from that he’s as sober as a +judge.” +</p> + +<p> +“Your father must be delighted with the change,” said Jeanne. +</p> + +<p> +“Naturally he’s delighted. Why, he’s lunching at Rennes +to-day with the Minister, with the sole object of getting Jacques +decorated.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well; the Legion of Honour is a fine thing to have,” said Marie. +</p> + +<p> +“My dear! The Legion of Honour is all very well for middle-class people, +but it’s quite out of place for a duke!” cried Germaine. +</p> + +<p> +Alfred came in, bearing the tea-tray, and set it on a little table near that at +which Sonia was sitting. +</p> + +<p> +Germaine, who was feeling too important to sit still, was walking up and down +the room. Suddenly she stopped short, and pointing to a silver statuette which +stood on the piano, she said, “What’s this? Why is this statuette +here?” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, when we came in, it was on the cabinet, in its usual place,” +said Sonia in some astonishment. +</p> + +<p> +“Did you come into the hall while we were out in the garden, +Alfred?” said Germaine to the footman. +</p> + +<p> +“No, miss,” said Alfred. +</p> + +<p> +“But some one must have come into it,” Germaine persisted. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve not heard any one. I was in my pantry,” said Alfred. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s very odd,” said Germaine. +</p> + +<p> +“It is odd,” said Sonia. “Statuettes don’t move about +of themselves.” +</p> + +<p> +All of them stared at the statuette as if they expected it to move again +forthwith, under their very eyes. Then Alfred put it back in its usual place on +one of the cabinets, and went out of the room. +</p> + +<p> +Sonia poured out the tea; and over it they babbled about the coming marriage, +the frocks they would wear at it, and the presents Germaine had already +received. That reminded her to ask Sonia if any one had yet telephoned from her +father’s house in Paris; and Sonia said that no one had. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s very annoying,” said Germaine. “It shows that +nobody has sent me a present to-day.” +</p> + +<p> +Pouting, she shrugged her shoulders with an air of a spoiled child, which sat +but poorly on a well-developed young woman of twenty-three. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s Sunday. The shops don’t deliver things on +Sunday,” said Sonia gently. +</p> + +<p> +But Germaine still pouted like a spoiled child. +</p> + +<p> +“Isn’t your beautiful Duke coming to have tea with us?” said +Jeanne a little anxiously. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, yes; I’m expecting him at half-past four. He had to go for a +ride with the two Du Buits. They’re coming to tea here, too,” said +Germaine. +</p> + +<p> +“Gone for a ride with the two Du Buits? But when?” cried Marie +quickly. +</p> + +<p> +“This afternoon.” +</p> + +<p> +“He can’t be,” said Marie. “My brother went to the Du +Buits’ house after lunch, to see Andre and Georges. They went for a drive +this morning, and won’t be back till late to-night.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, but—but why did the Duke tell me so?” said Germaine, +knitting her brow with a puzzled air. +</p> + +<p> +“If I were you, I should inquire into this thoroughly. Dukes—well, +we know what dukes are—it will be just as well to keep an eye on +him,” said Jeanne maliciously. +</p> + +<p> +Germaine flushed quickly; and her eyes flashed. “Thank you. I have every +confidence in Jacques. I am absolutely sure of him,” she said angrily. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, well—if you’re sure, it’s all right,” said +Jeanne. +</p> + +<p> +The ringing of the telephone-bell made a fortunate diversion. +</p> + +<p> +Germaine rushed to it, clapped the receiver to her ear, and cried: +“Hello, is that you, Pierre? ... Oh, it’s Victoire, is it? ... Ah, +some presents have come, have they? ... Well, well, what are they? ... What! a +paper-knife—another paper-knife! ... Another Louis XVI. +inkstand—oh, bother! ... Who are they from? ... Oh, from the Countess +Rudolph and the Baron de Valery.” Her voice rose high, thrilling with +pride. +</p> + +<p> +Then she turned her face to her friends, with the receiver still at her ear, +and cried: “Oh, girls, a pearl necklace too! A large one! The pearls are +big ones!” +</p> + +<p> +“How jolly!” said Marie. +</p> + +<p> +“Who sent it?” said Germaine, turning to the telephone again. +“Oh, a friend of papa’s,” she added in a tone of +disappointment. “Never mind, after all it’s a pearl necklace. +You’ll be sure and lock the doors carefully, Victoire, won’t you? +And lock up the necklace in the secret cupboard.... Yes; thanks very much, +Victoire. I shall see you to-morrow.” +</p> + +<p> +She hung up the receiver, and came away from the telephone frowning. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s preposterous!” she said pettishly. “Papa’s +friends and relations give me marvellous presents, and all the swells send me +paper-knives. It’s all Jacques’ fault. He’s above all this +kind of thing. The Faubourg Saint-Germain hardly knows that we’re +engaged.” +</p> + +<p> +“He doesn’t go about advertising it,” said Jeanne, smiling. +</p> + +<p> +“You’re joking, but all the same what you say is true,” said +Germaine. “That’s exactly what his cousin Madame de Relzières said +to me the other day at the At Home she gave in my honour—wasn’t it, +Sonia?” And she walked to the window, and, turning her back on them, +stared out of it. +</p> + +<p> +“She HAS got her mouth full of that At Home,” said Jeanne to Marie +in a low voice. +</p> + +<p> +There was an awkward silence. Marie broke it: +</p> + +<p> +“Speaking of Madame de Relzières, do you know that she is on pins and +needles with anxiety? Her son is fighting a duel to-day,” she said. +</p> + +<p> +“With whom?” said Sonia. +</p> + +<p> +“No one knows. She got hold of a letter from the seconds,” said +Marie. +</p> + +<p> +“My mind is quite at rest about Relzières,” said Germaine. +“He’s a first-class swordsman. No one could beat him.” +</p> + +<p> +Sonia did not seem to share her freedom from anxiety. Her forehead was puckered +in little lines of perplexity, as if she were puzzling out some problem; and +there was a look of something very like fear in her gentle eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“Wasn’t Relzières a great friend of your fiance at one time?” +said Jeanne. +</p> + +<p> +“A great friend? I should think he was,” said Germaine. “Why, +it was through Relzières that we got to know Jacques.” +</p> + +<p> +“Where was that?” said Marie. +</p> + +<p> +“Here—in this very château,” said Germaine. +</p> + +<p> +“Actually in his own house?” said Marie, in some surprise. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; actually here. Isn’t life funny?” said Germaine. +“If, a few months after his father’s death, Jacques had not found +himself hard-up, and obliged to dispose of this château, to raise the money for +his expedition to the South Pole; and if papa and I had not wanted an historic +château; and lastly, if papa had not suffered from rheumatism, I should not be +calling myself in a month from now the Duchess of Charmerace.” +</p> + +<p> +“Now what on earth has your father’s rheumatism got to do with your +being Duchess of Charmerace?” cried Jeanne. +</p> + +<p> +“Everything,” said Germaine. “Papa was afraid that this +château was damp. To prove to papa that he had nothing to fear, Jacques, en +grand seigneur, offered him his hospitality, here, at Charmerace, for three +weeks.” +</p> + +<p> +“That was truly ducal,” said Marie. +</p> + +<p> +“But he is always like that,” said Sonia. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, he’s all right in that way, little as he cares about +society,” said Germaine. “Well, by a miracle my father got cured of +his rheumatism here. Jacques fell in love with me; papa made up his mind to buy +the château; and I demanded the hand of Jacques in marriage.” +</p> + +<p> +“You did? But you were only sixteen then,” said Marie, with some +surprise. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; but even at sixteen a girl ought to know that a duke is a duke. I +did,” said Germaine. “Then since Jacques was setting out for the +South Pole, and papa considered me much too young to get married, I promised +Jacques to wait for his return.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, it was everything that’s romantic!” cried Marie. +</p> + +<p> +“Romantic? Oh, yes,” said Germaine; and she pouted. “But +between ourselves, if I’d known that he was going to stay all that time +at the South Pole—” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s true,” broke in Marie. “To go away for three +years and stay away seven—at the end of the world.” +</p> + +<p> +“All Germaine’s beautiful youth,” said Jeanne, with her +malicious smile. +</p> + +<p> +“Thanks!” said Germaine tartly. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, you ARE twenty-three. It’s the flower of one’s +age,” said Jeanne. +</p> + +<p> +“Not quite twenty-three,” said Germaine hastily. “And look at +the wretched luck I’ve had. The Duke falls ill and is treated at +Montevideo. As soon as he recovers, since he’s the most obstinate person +in the world, he resolves to go on with the expedition. He sets out; and for an +age, without a word of warning, there’s no more news of him—no news +of any kind. For six months, you know, we believed him dead.” +</p> + +<p> +“Dead? Oh, how unhappy you must have been!” said Sonia. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, don’t speak of it! For six months I daren’t put on a +light frock,” said Germaine, turning to her. +</p> + +<p> +“A lot she must have cared for him,” whispered Jeanne to Marie. +</p> + +<p> +“Fortunately, one fine day, the letters began again. Three months ago a +telegram informed us that he was coming back; and at last the Duke +returned,” said Germaine, with a theatrical air. +</p> + +<p> +“The Duke returned,” cried Jeanne, mimicking her. +</p> + +<p> +“Never mind. Fancy waiting nearly seven years for one’s fiance. +That was constancy,” said Sonia. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, you’re a sentimentalist, Mlle. Kritchnoff,” said Jeanne, +in a tone of mockery. “It was the influence of the castle.” +</p> + +<p> +“What do you mean?” said Germaine. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, to own the castle of Charmerace and call oneself Mlle. +Gournay-Martin—it’s not worth doing. One MUST become a +duchess,” said Jeanne. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, yes; and for all this wonderful constancy, seven years of it, +Germaine was on the point of becoming engaged to another man,” said +Marie, smiling. +</p> + +<p> +“And he a mere baron,” said Jeanne, laughing. +</p> + +<p> +“What? Is that true?” said Sonia. +</p> + +<p> +“Didn’t you know, Mlle. Kritchnoff? She nearly became engaged to +the Duke’s cousin, the Baron de Relzières. It was not nearly so +grand.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, it’s all very well to laugh at me; but being the cousin and +heir of the Duke, Relzières would have assumed the title, and I should have +been Duchess just the same,” said Germaine triumphantly. +</p> + +<p> +“Evidently that was all that mattered,” said Jeanne. “Well, +dear, I must be off. We’ve promised to run in to see the Comtesse de +Grosjean. You know the Comtesse de Grosjean?” +</p> + +<p> +She spoke with an air of careless pride, and rose to go. +</p> + +<p> +“Only by name. Papa used to know her husband on the Stock Exchange when +he was still called simply M. Grosjean. For his part, papa preferred to keep +his name intact,” said Germaine, with quiet pride. +</p> + +<p> +“Intact? That’s one way of looking at it. Well, then, I’ll +see you in Paris. You still intend to start to-morrow?” said Jeanne. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; to-morrow morning,” said Germaine. +</p> + +<p> +Jeanne and Marie slipped on their dust-coats to the accompaniment of chattering +and kissing, and went out of the room. +</p> + +<p> +As she closed the door on them, Germaine turned to Sonia, and said: “I do +hate those two girls! They’re such horrible snobs.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, they’re good-natured enough,” said Sonia. +</p> + +<p> +“Good-natured? Why, you idiot, they’re just bursting with envy of +me—bursting!” said Germaine. “Well, they’ve every +reason to be,” she added confidently, surveying herself in a Venetian +mirror with a petted child’s self-content. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap02"></a>CHAPTER II<br/> +THE COMING OF THE CHAROLAIS</h2> + +<p> +Sonia went back to her table, and once more began putting wedding-cards in +their envelopes and addressing them. Germaine moved restlessly about the room, +fidgeting with the bric-a-brac on the cabinets, shifting the pieces about, +interrupting Sonia to ask whether she preferred this arrangement or that, +throwing herself into a chair to read a magazine, getting up in a couple of +minutes to straighten a picture on the wall, throwing out all the while idle +questions not worth answering. Ninety-nine human beings would have been +irritated to exasperation by her fidgeting; Sonia endured it with a perfect +patience. Five times Germaine asked her whether she should wear her heliotrope +or her pink gown at a forthcoming dinner at Madame de Relzières’. Five +times Sonia said, without the slightest variation in her tone, “I think +you look better in the pink.” And all the while the pile of addressed +envelopes rose steadily. +</p> + +<p> +Presently the door opened, and Alfred stood on the threshold. +</p> + +<p> +“Two gentlemen have called to see you, miss,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, the two Du Buits,” cried Germaine. +</p> + +<p> +“They didn’t give their names, miss.” +</p> + +<p> +“A gentleman in the prime of life and a younger one?” said +Germaine. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, miss.” +</p> + +<p> +“I thought so. Show them in.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, miss. And have you any orders for me to give Victoire when we get +to Paris?” said Alfred. +</p> + +<p> +“No. Are you starting soon?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, miss. We’re all going by the seven o’clock train. +It’s a long way from here to Paris; we shall only reach it at nine in the +morning. That will give us just time to get the house ready for you by the time +you get there to-morrow evening,” said Alfred. +</p> + +<p> +“Is everything packed?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, miss—everything. The cart has already taken the heavy luggage +to the station. All you’ll have to do is to see after your bags.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s all right. Show M. du Buit and his brother in,” said +Germaine. +</p> + +<p> +She moved to a chair near the window, and disposed herself in an attitude of +studied, and obviously studied, grace. +</p> + +<p> +As she leant her head at a charming angle back against the tall back of the +chair, her eyes fell on the window, and they opened wide. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, whatever’s this?” she cried, pointing to it. +</p> + +<p> +“Whatever’s what?” said Sonia, without raising her eyes from +the envelope she was addressing. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, the window. Look! one of the panes has been taken out. It looks as +if it had been cut.” +</p> + +<p> +“So it has—just at the level of the fastening,” said Sonia. +And the two girls stared at the gap. +</p> + +<p> +“Haven’t you noticed it before?” said Germaine. +</p> + +<p> +“No; the broken glass must have fallen outside,” said Sonia. +</p> + +<p> +The noise of the opening of the door drew their attention from the window. Two +figures were advancing towards them—a short, round, tubby man of +fifty-five, red-faced, bald, with bright grey eyes, which seemed to be +continually dancing away from meeting the eyes of any other human being. Behind +him came a slim young man, dark and grave. For all the difference in their +colouring, it was clear that they were father and son: their eyes were set so +close together. The son seemed to have inherited, along with her black eyes, +his mother’s nose, thin and aquiline; the nose of the father started thin +from the brow, but ended in a scarlet bulb eloquent of an exhaustive +acquaintance with the vintages of the world. +</p> + +<p> +Germaine rose, looking at them with an air of some surprise and uncertainty: +these were not her friends, the Du Buits. +</p> + +<p> +The elder man, advancing with a smiling bonhomie, bowed, and said in an adenoid +voice, ingratiating of tone: “I’m M. Charolais, young +ladies—M. Charolais—retired brewer—chevalier of the Legion of +Honour—landowner at Rennes. Let me introduce my son.” The young man +bowed awkwardly. “We came from Rennes this morning, and we lunched at +Kerlor’s farm.” +</p> + +<p> +“Shall I order tea for them?” whispered Sonia. +</p> + +<p> +“Gracious, no!” said Germaine sharply under her breath; then, +louder, she said to M. Charolais, “And what is your object in +calling?” +</p> + +<p> +“We asked to see your father,” said M. Charolais, smiling with +broad amiability, while his eyes danced across her face, avoiding any meeting +with hers. “The footman told us that M. Gournay-Martin was out, but that +his daughter was at home. And we were unable, quite unable, to deny ourselves +the pleasure of meeting you.” With that he sat down; and his son followed +his example. +</p> + +<p> +Sonia and Germaine, taken aback, looked at one another in some perplexity. +</p> + +<p> +“What a fine château, papa!” said the young man. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, my boy; it’s a very fine château,” said M. Charolais, +looking round the hall with appreciative but greedy eyes. +</p> + +<p> +There was a pause. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s a very fine château, young ladies,” said M. Charolais. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; but excuse me, what is it you have called about?” said +Germaine. +</p> + +<p> +M. Charolais crossed his legs, leant back in his chair, thrust his thumbs into +the arm-holes of his waistcoat, and said: “Well, we’ve come about +the advertisement we saw in the RENNES ADVERTISER, that M. Gournay-Martin +wanted to get rid of a motor-car; and my son is always saying to me, ‘I +should like a motor-car which rushes the hills, papa.’ He means a sixty +horse-power.” +</p> + +<p> +“We’ve got a sixty horse-power; but it’s not for sale. My +father is even using it himself to-day,” said Germaine. +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps it’s the car we saw in the stable-yard,” said M. +Charolais. +</p> + +<p> +“No; that’s a thirty to forty horse-power. It belongs to me. But if +your son really loves rushing hills, as you say, we have a hundred horse-power +car which my father wants to get rid of. Wait; where’s the photograph of +it, Sonia? It ought to be here somewhere.” +</p> + +<p> +The two girls rose, went to a table set against the wall beyond the window, and +began turning over the papers with which it was loaded in the search for the +photograph. They had barely turned their backs, when the hand of young +Charolais shot out as swiftly as the tongue of a lizard catching a fly, closed +round the silver statuette on the top of the cabinet beside him, and flashed it +into his jacket pocket. +</p> + +<p> +Charolais was watching the two girls; one would have said that he had eyes for +nothing else, yet, without moving a muscle of his face, set in its perpetual +beaming smile, he hissed in an angry whisper, “Drop it, you idiot! Put it +back!” +</p> + +<p> +The young man scowled askance at him. +</p> + +<p> +“Curse you! Put it back!” hissed Charolais. +</p> + +<p> +The young man’s arm shot out with the same quickness, and the statuette +stood in its place. +</p> + +<p> +There was just the faintest sigh of relief from Charolais, as Germaine turned +and came to him with the photograph in her hand. She gave it to him. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, here we are,” he said, putting on a pair of gold-rimmed +pince-nez. “A hundred horse-power car. Well, well, this is something to +talk over. What’s the least you’ll take for it?” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>I</i> have nothing to do with this kind of thing,” cried +Germaine. “You must see my father. He will be back from Rennes soon. Then +you can settle the matter with him.” +</p> + +<p> +M. Charolais rose, and said: “Very good. We will go now, and come back +presently. I’m sorry to have intruded on you, young ladies—taking +up your time like this—” +</p> + +<p> +“Not at all—not at all,” murmured Germaine politely. +</p> + +<p> +“Good-bye—good-bye,” said M. Charolais; and he and his son +went to the door, and bowed themselves out. +</p> + +<p> +“What creatures!” said Germaine, going to the window, as the door +closed behind the two visitors. “All the same, if they do buy the hundred +horse-power, papa will be awfully pleased. It is odd about that pane. I wonder +how it happened. It’s odd too that Jacques hasn’t come back yet. He +told me that he would be here between half-past four and five.” +</p> + +<p> +“And the Du Buits have not come either,” said Sonia. “But +it’s hardly five yet.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; that’s so. The Du Buits have not come either. What on earth +are you wasting your time for?” she added sharply, raising her voice. +“Just finish addressing those letters while you’re waiting.” +</p> + +<p> +“They’re nearly finished,” said Sonia. +</p> + +<p> +“Nearly isn’t quite. Get on with them, can’t you!” +snapped Germaine. +</p> + +<p> +Sonia went back to the writing-table; just the slightest deepening of the faint +pink roses in her cheeks marked her sense of Germaine’s rudeness. After +three years as companion to Germaine Gournay-Martin, she was well inured to +millionaire manners; they had almost lost the power to move her. +</p> + +<p> +Germaine dropped into a chair for twenty seconds; then flung out of it. +</p> + +<p> +“Ten minutes to five!” she cried. “Jacques is late. +It’s the first time I’ve ever known him late.” +</p> + +<p> +She went to the window, and looked across the wide stretch of meadow-land and +woodland on which the château, set on the very crown of the ridge, looked down. +The road, running with the irritating straightness of so many of the roads of +France, was visible for a full three miles. It was empty. +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps the Duke went to the château de Relzières to see his +cousin—though I fancy that at bottom the Duke does not care very much for +the Baron de Relzières. They always look as though they detested one +another,” said Sonia, without raising her eyes from the letter she was +addressing. +</p> + +<p> +“You’ve noticed that, have you?” said Germaine. “Now, +as far as Jacques is concerned—he’s—he’s so +indifferent. None the less, when we were at the Relzières on Thursday, I caught +him quarrelling with Paul de Relzières.” +</p> + +<p> +“Quarrelling?” said Sonia sharply, with a sudden uneasiness in air +and eyes and voice. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; quarrelling. And they said good-bye to one another in the oddest +way.” +</p> + +<p> +“But surely they shook hands?” said Sonia. +</p> + +<p> +“Not a bit of it. They bowed as if each of them had swallowed a +poker.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why—then—then—” said Sonia, starting up with a +frightened air; and her voice stuck in her throat. +</p> + +<p> +“Then what?” said Germaine, a little startled by her panic-stricken +face. +</p> + +<p> +“The duel! Monsieur de Relzières’ duel!” cried Sonia. +</p> + +<p> +“What? You don’t think it was with Jacques?” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know—but this quarrel—the Duke’s manner +this morning—the Du Buits’ drive—” said Sonia. +</p> + +<p> +“Of course—of course! It’s quite possible—in fact +it’s certain!” cried Germaine. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s horrible!” gasped Sonia. “Consider—just +consider! Suppose something happened to him. Suppose the Duke—” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s me the Duke’s fighting about!” cried Germaine +proudly, with a little skipping jump of triumphant joy. +</p> + +<p> +Sonia stared through her without seeing her. Her face was a dead +white—fear had chilled the lustre from her skin; her breath panted +through her parted lips; and her dilated eyes seemed to look on some dreadful +picture. +</p> + +<p> +Germaine pirouetted about the hall at the very height of triumph. To have a +Duke fighting a duel about her was far beyond the wildest dreams of +snobbishness. She chuckled again and again, and once she clapped her hands and +laughed aloud. +</p> + +<p> +“He’s fighting a swordsman of the first class—an invincible +swordsman—you said so yourself,” Sonia muttered in a tone of +anguish. “And there’s nothing to be done—nothing.” +</p> + +<p> +She pressed her hands to her eyes as if to shut out a hideous vision. +</p> + +<p> +Germaine did not hear her; she was staring at herself in a mirror, and bridling +to her own image. +</p> + +<p> +Sonia tottered to the window and stared down at the road along which must come +the tidings of weal or irremediable woe. She kept passing her hand over her +eyes as if to clear their vision. +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly she started, and bent forward, rigid, all her being concentrated in +the effort to see. +</p> + +<p> +Then she cried: “Mademoiselle Germaine! Look! Look!” +</p> + +<p> +“What is it?” said Germaine, coming to her side. +</p> + +<p> +“A horseman! Look! There!” said Sonia, waving a hand towards the +road. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; and isn’t he galloping!” said Germaine. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s he! It’s the Duke!” cried Sonia. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you think so?” said Germaine doubtfully. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m sure of it—sure!” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, he gets here just in time for tea,” said Germaine in a tone +of extreme satisfaction. “He knows that I hate to be kept waiting. He +said to me, ‘I shall be back by five at the latest.’ And here he +is.” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s impossible,” said Sonia. “He has to go all the +way round the park. There’s no direct road; the brook is between +us.” +</p> + +<p> +“All the same, he’s coming in a straight line,” said +Germaine. +</p> + +<p> +It was true. The horseman had left the road and was galloping across the +meadows straight for the brook. In twenty seconds he reached its treacherous +bank, and as he set his horse at it, Sonia covered her eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“He’s over!” said Germaine. “My father gave three +hundred guineas for that horse.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap03"></a>CHAPTER III<br/> +LUPIN’S WAY</h2> + +<p> +Sonia, in a sudden revulsion of feeling, in a reaction from her fears, slipped +back and sat down at the tea-table, panting quickly, struggling to keep back +the tears of relief. She did not see the Duke gallop up the slope, dismount, +and hand over his horse to the groom who came running to him. There was still a +mist in her eyes to blur his figure as he came through the window. +</p> + +<p> +“If it’s for me, plenty of tea, very little cream, and three lumps +of sugar,” he cried in a gay, ringing voice, and pulled out his watch. +“Five to the minute—that’s all right.” And he bent +down, took Germaine’s hand, and kissed it with an air of gallant +devotion. +</p> + +<p> +If he had indeed just fought a duel, there were no signs of it in his bearing. +His air, his voice, were entirely careless. He was a man whose whole thought at +the moment was fixed on his tea and his punctuality. +</p> + +<p> +He drew a chair near the tea-table for Germaine; sat down himself; and Sonia +handed him a cup of tea with so shaky a hand that the spoon clinked in the +saucer. +</p> + +<p> +“You’ve been fighting a duel?” said Germaine. +</p> + +<p> +“What! You’ve heard already?” said the Duke in some surprise. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve heard,” said Germaine. “Why did you fight +it?” +</p> + +<p> +“You’re not wounded, your Grace?” said Sonia anxiously. +</p> + +<p> +“Not a scratch,” said the Duke, smiling at her. +</p> + +<p> +“Will you be so good as to get on with those wedding-cards, Sonia,” +said Germaine sharply; and Sonia went back to the writing-table. +</p> + +<p> +Turning to the Duke, Germaine said, “Did you fight on my account?” +</p> + +<p> +“Would you be pleased to know that I had fought on your account?” +said the Duke; and there was a faint mocking light in his eyes, far too faint +for the self-satisfied Germaine to perceive. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. But it isn’t true. You’ve been fighting about some +woman,” said Germaine petulantly. +</p> + +<p> +“If I had been fighting about a woman, it could only be you,” said +the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, that is so. Of course. It could hardly be about Sonia, or my +maid,” said Germaine. “But what was the reason of the duel?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, the reason of it was entirely childish,” said the Duke. +“I was in a bad temper; and De Relzières said something that annoyed +me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then it wasn’t about me; and if it wasn’t about me, it +wasn’t really worth while fighting,” said Germaine in a tone of +acute disappointment. +</p> + +<p> +The mocking light deepened a little in the Duke’s eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. But if I had been killed, everybody would have said, ‘The +Duke of Charmerace has been killed in a duel about Mademoiselle +Gournay-Martin.’ That would have sounded very fine indeed,” said +the Duke; and a touch of mockery had crept into his voice. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, don’t begin trying to annoy me again,” said Germaine +pettishly. +</p> + +<p> +“The last thing I should dream of, my dear girl,” said the Duke, +smiling. +</p> + +<p> +“And De Relzières? Is he wounded?” said Germaine. +</p> + +<p> +“Poor dear De Relzières: he won’t be out of bed for the next six +months,” said the Duke; and he laughed lightly and gaily. +</p> + +<p> +“Good gracious!” cried Germaine. +</p> + +<p> +“It will do poor dear De Relzières a world of good. He has a touch of +enteritis; and for enteritis there is nothing like rest,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +Sonia was not getting on very quickly with the wedding-cards. Germaine was +sitting with her back to her; and over her shoulder Sonia could watch the face +of the Duke—an extraordinarily mobile face, changing with every passing +mood. Sometimes his eyes met hers; and hers fell before them. But as soon as +they turned away from her she was watching him again, almost greedily, as if +she could not see enough of his face in which strength of will and purpose was +mingled with a faint, ironic scepticism, and tempered by a fine air of race. +</p> + +<p> +He finished his tea; then he took a morocco case from his pocket, and said to +Germaine, “It must be quite three days since I gave you anything.” +</p> + +<p> +He opened the case, disclosed a pearl pendant, and handed it to her. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, how nice!” she cried, taking it. +</p> + +<p> +She took it from the case, saying that it was a beauty. She showed it to Sonia; +then she put it on and stood before a mirror admiring the effect. To tell the +truth, the effect was not entirely desirable. The pearls did not improve the +look of her rather coarse brown skin; and her skin added nothing to the beauty +of the pearls. Sonia saw this, and so did the Duke. He looked at Sonia’s +white throat. She met his eyes and blushed. She knew that the same thought was +in both their minds; the pearls would have looked infinitely better there. +</p> + +<p> +Germaine finished admiring herself; she was incapable even of suspecting that +so expensive a pendant could not suit her perfectly. +</p> + +<p> +The Duke said idly: “Goodness! Are all those invitations to the +wedding?” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s only down to the letter V,” said Germaine proudly. +</p> + +<p> +“And there are twenty-five letters in the alphabet! You must be inviting +the whole world. You’ll have to have the Madeleine enlarged. It +won’t hold them all. There isn’t a church in Paris that +will,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“Won’t it be a splendid marriage!” said Germaine. +“There’ll be something like a crush. There are sure to be +accidents.” +</p> + +<p> +“If I were you, I should have careful arrangements made,” said the +Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, let people look after themselves. They’ll remember it better +if they’re crushed a little,” said Germaine. +</p> + +<p> +There was a flicker of contemptuous wonder in the Duke’s eyes. But he +only shrugged his shoulders, and turning to Sonia, said, “Will you be an +angel and play me a little Grieg, Mademoiselle Kritchnoff? I heard you playing +yesterday. No one plays Grieg like you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Excuse me, Jacques, but Mademoiselle Kritchnoff has her work to +do,” said Germaine tartly. +</p> + +<p> +“Five minutes’ interval—just a morsel of Grieg, I beg,” +said the Duke, with an irresistible smile. +</p> + +<p> +“All right,” said Germaine grudgingly. “But I’ve +something important to talk to you about.” +</p> + +<p> +“By Jove! So have I. I was forgetting. I’ve the last photograph I +took of you and Mademoiselle Sonia.” Germaine frowned and shrugged her +shoulders. “With your light frocks in the open air, you look like two big +flowers,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“You call that important!” cried Germaine. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s very important—like all trifles,” said the Duke, +smiling. “Look! isn’t it nice?” And he took a photograph from +his pocket, and held it out to her. +</p> + +<p> +“Nice? It’s shocking! We’re making the most appalling +faces,” said Germaine, looking at the photograph in his hand. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, perhaps you ARE making faces,” said the Duke seriously, +considering the photograph with grave earnestness. “But they’re not +appalling faces—not by any means. You shall be judge, Mademoiselle Sonia. +The faces—well, we won’t talk about the faces—but the +outlines. Look at the movement of your scarf.” And he handed the +photograph to Sonia. +</p> + +<p> +“Jacques!” said Germaine impatiently. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, yes, you’ve something important to tell me. What is it?” +said the Duke, with an air of resignation; and he took the photograph from +Sonia and put it carefully back in his pocket. +</p> + +<p> +“Victoire has telephoned from Paris to say that we’ve had a +paper-knife and a Louis Seize inkstand given us,” said Germaine. +</p> + +<p> +“Hurrah!” cried the Duke in a sudden shout that made them both +jump. +</p> + +<p> +“And a pearl necklace,” said Germaine. +</p> + +<p> +“Hurrah!” cried the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“You’re perfectly childish,” said Germaine pettishly. +“I tell you we’ve been given a paper-knife, and you shout +‘hurrah!’ I say we’ve been given a pearl necklace, and you +shout ‘hurrah!’ You can’t have the slightest sense of +values.” +</p> + +<p> +“I beg your pardon. This pearl necklace is from one of your +father’s friends, isn’t it?” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; why?” said Germaine. +</p> + +<p> +“But the inkstand and the paper-knife must be from the Faubourg +Saint-Germain, and well on the shabby side?” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; well?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well then, my dear girl, what are you complaining about? They balance; +the equilibrium is restored. You can’t have everything,” said the +Duke; and he laughed mischievously. +</p> + +<p> +Germaine flushed, and bit her lip; her eyes sparkled. +</p> + +<p> +“You don’t care a rap about me,” she said stormily. +</p> + +<p> +“But I find you adorable,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“You keep annoying me,” said Germaine pettishly. “And you do +it on purpose. I think it’s in very bad taste. I shall end by taking a +dislike to you—I know I shall.” +</p> + +<p> +“Wait till we’re married for that, my dear girl,” said the +Duke; and he laughed again, with a blithe, boyish cheerfulness, which deepened +the angry flush in Germaine’s cheeks. +</p> + +<p> +“Can’t you be serious about anything?” she cried. +</p> + +<p> +“I am the most serious man in Europe,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +Germaine went to the window and stared out of it sulkily. +</p> + +<p> +The Duke walked up and down the hall, looking at the pictures of some of his +ancestors—somewhat grotesque persons—with humorous appreciation. +Between addressing the envelopes Sonia kept glancing at him. Once he caught her +eye, and smiled at her. Germaine’s back was eloquent of her displeasure. +The Duke stopped at a gap in the line of pictures in which there hung a strip +of old tapestry. +</p> + +<p> +“I can never understand why you have left all these ancestors of mine +staring from the walls and have taken away the quite admirable and interesting +portrait of myself,” he said carelessly. +</p> + +<p> +Germaine turned sharply from the window; Sonia stopped in the middle of +addressing an envelope; and both the girls stared at him in astonishment. +</p> + +<p> +“There certainly was a portrait of me where that tapestry hangs. What +have you done with it?” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“You’re making fun of us again,” said Germaine. +</p> + +<p> +“Surely your Grace knows what happened,” said Sonia. +</p> + +<p> +“We wrote all the details to you and sent you all the papers three years +ago. Didn’t you get them?” said Germaine. +</p> + +<p> +“Not a detail or a newspaper. Three years ago I was in the neighbourhood +of the South Pole, and lost at that,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“But it was most dramatic, my dear Jacques. All Paris was talking of +it,” said Germaine. “Your portrait was stolen.” +</p> + +<p> +“Stolen? Who stole it?” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +Germaine crossed the hall quickly to the gap in the line of pictures. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll show you,” she said. +</p> + +<p> +She drew aside the piece of tapestry, and in the middle of the panel over which +the portrait of the Duke had hung he saw written in chalk the words: +</p> + +<p> +ARSÈNE LUPIN +</p> + +<p> +“What do you think of that autograph?” said Germaine. +</p> + +<p> +“‘Arsène Lupin?’” said the Duke in a tone of some +bewilderment. +</p> + +<p> +“He left his signature. It seems that he always does so,” said +Sonia in an explanatory tone. +</p> + +<p> +“But who is he?” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“Arsène Lupin? Surely you know who Arsène Lupin is?” said Germaine +impatiently. +</p> + +<p> +“I haven’t the slightest notion,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, come! No one is as South-Pole as all that!” cried Germaine. +“You don’t know who Lupin is? The most whimsical, the most +audacious, and the most genial thief in France. For the last ten years he has +kept the police at bay. He has baffled Ganimard, Holmlock Shears, the great +English detective, and even Guerchard, whom everybody says is the greatest +detective we’ve had in France since Vidocq. In fact, he’s our +national robber. Do you mean to say you don’t know him?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not even enough to ask him to lunch at a restaurant,” said the +Duke flippantly. “What’s he like?” +</p> + +<p> +“Like? Nobody has the slightest idea. He has a thousand disguises. He has +dined two evenings running at the English Embassy.” +</p> + +<p> +“But if nobody knows him, how did they learn that?” said the Duke, +with a puzzled air. +</p> + +<p> +“Because the second evening, about ten o’clock, they noticed that +one of the guests had disappeared, and with him all the jewels of the +ambassadress.” +</p> + +<p> +“All of them?” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; and Lupin left his card behind him with these words scribbled on +it:” +</p> + +<p> +“‘This is not a robbery; it is a restitution. You took the Wallace +collection from us.’” +</p> + +<p> +“But it was a hoax, wasn’t it?” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“No, your Grace; and he has done better than that. You remember the +affair of the Daray Bank—the savings bank for poor people?” said +Sonia, her gentle face glowing with a sudden enthusiastic animation. +</p> + +<p> +“Let’s see,” said the Duke. “Wasn’t that the +financier who doubled his fortune at the expense of a heap of poor wretches and +ruined two thousand people?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; that’s the man,” said Sonia. “And Lupin stripped +Daray’s house and took from him everything he had in his strong-box. He +didn’t leave him a sou of the money. And then, when he’d taken it +from him, he distributed it among all the poor wretches whom Daray had +ruined.” +</p> + +<p> +“But this isn’t a thief you’re talking about—it’s +a philanthropist,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“A fine sort of philanthropist!” broke in Germaine in a peevish +tone. “There was a lot of philanthropy about his robbing papa, +wasn’t there?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” said the Duke, with an air of profound reflection, +“if you come to think of it, that robbery was not worthy of this national +hero. My portrait, if you except the charm and beauty of the face itself, is +not worth much.” +</p> + +<p> +“If you think he was satisfied with your portrait, you’re very much +mistaken. All my father’s collections were robbed,” said Germaine. +</p> + +<p> +“Your father’s collections?” said the Duke. “But +they’re better guarded than the Bank of France. Your father is as careful +of them as the apple of his eye.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s exactly it—he was too careful of them. That’s +why Lupin succeeded.” +</p> + +<p> +“This is very interesting,” said the Duke; and he sat down on a +couch before the gap in the pictures, to go into the matter more at his ease. +“I suppose he had accomplices in the house itself?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, one accomplice,” said Germaine. +</p> + +<p> +“Who was that?” asked the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“Papa!” said Germaine. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, come! what on earth do you mean?” said the Duke. +“You’re getting quite incomprehensible, my dear girl.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I’ll make it clear to you. One morning papa received a +letter—but wait. Sonia, get me the Lupin papers out of the bureau.” +</p> + +<p> +Sonia rose from the writing-table, and went to a bureau, an admirable example +of the work of the great English maker, Chippendale. It stood on the other side +of the hall between an Oriental cabinet and a sixteenth-century Italian +cabinet—for all the world as if it were standing in a crowded curiosity +shop—with the natural effect that the three pieces, by their mere +incongruity, took something each from the beauty of the other. Sonia raised the +flap of the bureau, and taking from one of the drawers a small portfolio, +turned over the papers in it and handed a letter to the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“This is the envelope,” she said. “It’s addressed to M. +Gournay-Martin, Collector, at the château de Charmerace, Ile-et-Vilaine.” +</p> + +<p> +The Duke opened the envelope and took out a letter. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s an odd handwriting,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +“Read it—carefully,” said Germaine. +</p> + +<p> +It was an uncommon handwriting. The letters of it were small, but perfectly +formed. It looked the handwriting of a man who knew exactly what he wanted to +say, and liked to say it with extreme precision. The letter ran: +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +“DEAR SIR,” +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +“Please forgive my writing to you without our having been introduced to +one another; but I flatter myself that you know me, at any rate, by +name.” +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +“There is in the drawing-room next your hall a Gainsborough of admirable +quality which affords me infinite pleasure. Your Goyas in the same drawing-room +are also to my liking, as well as your Van Dyck. In the further drawing-room I +note the Renaissance cabinets—a marvellous pair—the Flemish +tapestry, the Fragonard, the clock signed Boulle, and various other objects of +less importance. But above all I have set my heart on that coronet which you +bought at the sale of the Marquise de Ferronaye, and which was formerly worn by +the unfortunate Princesse de Lamballe. I take the greatest interest in this +coronet: in the first place, on account of the charming and tragic memories +which it calls up in the mind of a poet passionately fond of history, and in +the second place—though it is hardly worth while talking about that kind +of thing—on account of its intrinsic value. I reckon indeed that the +stones in your coronet are, at the very lowest, worth half a million +francs.” +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +“I beg you, my dear sir, to have these different objects properly packed +up, and to forward them, addressed to me, carriage paid, to the Batignolles +Station. Failing this, I shall Proceed to remove them myself on the night of +Thursday, August 7th.” +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +“Please pardon the slight trouble to which I am putting you, and believe +me,” +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +“Yours very sincerely,”<br/> +“ARSÈNE LUPIN.” +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +“P.S.—It occurs to me that the pictures have not glass before them. +It would be as well to repair this omission before forwarding them to me, and I +am sure that you will take this extra trouble cheerfully. I am aware, of +course, that some of the best judges declare that a picture loses some of its +quality when seen through glass. But it preserves them, and we should always be +ready and willing to sacrifice a portion of our own pleasure for the benefit of +posterity. France demands it of us.—A. L.” +</p> + +<p> +The Duke laughed, and said, “Really, this is extraordinarily funny. It +must have made your father laugh.” +</p> + +<p> +“Laugh?” said Germaine. “You should have seen his face. He +took it seriously enough, I can tell you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not to the point of forwarding the things to Batignolles, I hope,” +said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“No, but to the point of being driven wild,” said Germaine. +“And since the police had always been baffled by Lupin, he had the +brilliant idea of trying what soldiers could do. The Commandant at Rennes is a +great friend of papa’s; and papa went to him, and told him about +Lupin’s letter and what he feared. The colonel laughed at him; but he +offered him a corporal and six soldiers to guard his collection, on the night +of the seventh. It was arranged that they should come from Rennes by the last +train so that the burglars should have no warning of their coming. Well, they +came, seven picked men—men who had seen service in Tonquin. We gave them +supper; and then the corporal posted them in the hall and the two drawing-rooms +where the pictures and things were. At eleven we all went to bed, after +promising the corporal that, in the event of any fight with the burglars, we +would not stir from our rooms. I can tell you I felt awfully nervous. I +couldn’t get to sleep for ages and ages. Then, when I did, I did not wake +till morning. The night had passed absolutely quietly. Nothing out of the +common had happened. There had not been the slightest noise. I awoke Sonia and +my father. We dressed as quickly as we could, and rushed down to the +drawing-room.” +</p> + +<p> +She paused dramatically. +</p> + +<p> +“Well?” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, it was done.” +</p> + +<p> +“What was done?” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“Everything,” said Germaine. “Pictures had gone, tapestries +had gone, cabinets had gone, and the clock had gone.” +</p> + +<p> +“And the coronet too?” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, no. That was at the Bank of France. And it was doubtless to make up +for not getting it that Lupin stole your portrait. At any rate he didn’t +say that he was going to steal it in his letter.” +</p> + +<p> +“But, come! this is incredible. Had he hypnotized the corporal and the +six soldiers? Or had he murdered them all?” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“Corporal? There wasn’t any corporal, and there weren’t any +soldiers. The corporal was Lupin, and the soldiers were part of his +gang,” said Germaine. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t understand,” said the Duke. “The colonel +promised your father a corporal and six men. Didn’t they come?” +</p> + +<p> +“They came to the railway station all right,” said Germaine. +“But you know the little inn half-way between the railway station and the +château? They stopped to drink there, and at eleven o’clock next morning +one of the villagers found all seven of them, along with the footman who was +guiding them to the château, sleeping like logs in the little wood half a mile +from the inn. Of course the innkeeper could not explain when their wine was +drugged. He could only tell us that a motorist, who had stopped at the inn to +get some supper, had called the soldiers in and insisted on standing them +drinks. They had seemed a little fuddled before they left the inn, and the +motorist had insisted on driving them to the château in his car. When the drug +took effect he simply carried them out of it one by one, and laid them in the +wood to sleep it off.” +</p> + +<p> +“Lupin seems to have made a thorough job of it, anyhow,” said the +Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“I should think so,” said Germaine. “Guerchard was sent down +from Paris; but he could not find a single clue. It was not for want of trying, +for he hates Lupin. It’s a regular fight between them, and so far Lupin +has scored every point.” +</p> + +<p> +“He must be as clever as they make ’em,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“He is,” said Germaine. “And do you know, I shouldn’t +be at all surprised if he’s in the neighbourhood now.” +</p> + +<p> +“What on earth do you mean?” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m not joking,” said Germaine. “Odd things are +happening. Some one has been changing the place of things. That silver +statuette now—it was on the cabinet, and we found it moved to the piano. +Yet nobody had touched it. And look at this window. Some one has broken a pane +in it just at the height of the fastening.” +</p> + +<p> +“The deuce they have!” said the Duke. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap04"></a>CHAPTER IV<br/> +THE DUKE INTERVENES</h2> + +<p> +The Duke rose, came to the window, and looked at the broken pane. He stepped +out on to the terrace and looked at the turf; then he came back into the room. +</p> + +<p> +“This looks serious,” he said. “That pane has not been broken +at all. If it had been broken, the pieces of glass would be lying on the turf. +It has been cut out. We must warn your father to look to his treasures.” +</p> + +<p> +“I told you so,” said Germaine. “I said that Arsène Lupin was +in the neighbourhood.” +</p> + +<p> +“Arsène Lupin is a very capable man,” said the Duke, smiling. +“But there’s no reason to suppose that he’s the only burglar +in France or even in Ile-et-Vilaine.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m sure that he’s in the neighbourhood. I have a feeling +that he is,” said Germaine stubbornly. +</p> + +<p> +The Duke shrugged his shoulders, and said a smile: “Far be it from me to +contradict you. A woman’s intuition is always—well, it’s +always a woman’s intuition.” +</p> + +<p> +He came back into the hall, and as he did so the door opened and a shock-headed +man in the dress of a gamekeeper stood on the threshold. +</p> + +<p> +“There are visitors to see you, Mademoiselle Germaine,” he said, in +a very deep bass voice. +</p> + +<p> +“What! Are you answering the door, Firmin?” said Germaine. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, Mademoiselle Germaine: there’s only me to do it. All the +servants have started for the station, and my wife and I are going to see after +the family to-night and to-morrow morning. Shall I show these gentlemen +in?” +</p> + +<p> +“Who are they?” said Germaine. +</p> + +<p> +“Two gentlemen who say they have an appointment.” +</p> + +<p> +“What are their names?” said Germaine. +</p> + +<p> +“They are two gentlemen. I don’t know what their names are. +I’ve no memory for names.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s an advantage to any one who answers doors,” said the +Duke, smiling at the stolid Firmin. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, it can’t be the two Charolais again. It’s not time for +them to come back. I told them papa would not be back yet,” said +Germaine. +</p> + +<p> +“No, it can’t be them, Mademoiselle Germaine,” said Firmin, +with decision. +</p> + +<p> +“Very well; show them in,” she said. +</p> + +<p> +Firmin went out, leaving the door open behind him; and they heard his +hob-nailed boots clatter and squeak on the stone floor of the outer hall. +</p> + +<p> +“Charolais?” said the Duke idly. “I don’t know the +name. Who are they?” +</p> + +<p> +“A little while ago Alfred announced two gentlemen. I thought they were +Georges and Andre du Buit, for they promised to come to tea. I told Alfred to +show them in, and to my surprise there appeared two horrible provincials. I +never—Oh!” +</p> + +<p> +She stopped short, for there, coming through the door, were the two Charolais, +father and son. +</p> + +<p> +M. Charolais pressed his motor-cap to his bosom, and bowed low. “Once +more I salute you, mademoiselle,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +His son bowed, and revealed behind him another young man. +</p> + +<p> +“My second son. He has a chemist’s shop,” said M. Charolais, +waving a large red hand at the young man. +</p> + +<p> +The young man, also blessed with the family eyes, set close together, entered +the hall and bowed to the two girls. The Duke raised his eyebrows ever so +slightly. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m very sorry, gentlemen,” said Germaine, “but my +father has not yet returned.” +</p> + +<p> +“Please don’t apologize. There is not the slightest need,” +said M. Charolais; and he and his two sons settled themselves down on three +chairs, with the air of people who had come to make a considerable stay. +</p> + +<p> +For a moment, Germaine, taken aback by their coolness, was speechless; then she +said hastily: “Very likely he won’t be back for another hour. I +shouldn’t like you to waste your time.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, it doesn’t matter,” said M. Charolais, with an indulgent +air; and turning to the Duke, he added, “However, while we’re +waiting, if you’re a member of the family, sir, we might perhaps discuss +the least you will take for the motor-car.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m sorry,” said the Duke, “but I have nothing to do +with it.” +</p> + +<p> +Before M. Charolais could reply the door opened, and Firmin’s deep voice +said: +</p> + +<p> +“Will you please come in here, sir?” +</p> + +<p> +A third young man came into the hall. +</p> + +<p> +“What, you here, Bernard?” said M. Charolais. “I told you to +wait at the park gates.” +</p> + +<p> +“I wanted to see the car too,” said Bernard. +</p> + +<p> +“My third son. He is destined for the Bar,” said M. Charolais, with +a great air of paternal pride. +</p> + +<p> +“But how many are there?” said Germaine faintly. +</p> + +<p> +Before M. Charolais could answer, Firmin once more appeared on the threshold. +</p> + +<p> +“The master’s just come back, miss,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +“Thank goodness for that!” said Germaine; and turning to M. +Charolais, she added, “If you will come with me, gentlemen, I will take +you to my father, and you can discuss the price of the car at once.” +</p> + +<p> +As she spoke she moved towards the door. M. Charolais and his sons rose and +made way for her. The father and the two eldest sons made haste to follow her +out of the room. But Bernard lingered behind, apparently to admire the +bric-a-brac on the cabinets. With infinite quickness he grabbed two objects off +the nearest, and followed his brothers. The Duke sprang across the hall in +three strides, caught him by the arm on the very threshold, jerked him back +into the hall, and shut the door. +</p> + +<p> +“No you don’t, my young friend,” he said sharply. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t what?” said Bernard, trying to shake off his grip. +</p> + +<p> +“You’ve taken a cigarette-case,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“No, no, I haven’t—nothing of the kind!” stammered +Bernard. +</p> + +<p> +The Duke grasped the young man’s left wrist, plunged his hand into the +motor-cap which he was carrying, drew out of it a silver cigarette-case, and +held it before his eyes. +</p> + +<p> +Bernard turned pale to the lips. His frightened eyes seemed about to leap from +their sockets. +</p> + +<p> +“It—it—was a m-m-m-mistake,” he stammered. +</p> + +<p> +The Duke shifted his grip to his collar, and thrust his hand into the +breast-pocket of his coat. Bernard, helpless in his grip, and utterly taken +aback by his quickness, made no resistance. +</p> + +<p> +The Duke drew out a morocco case, and said: “Is this a mistake +too?” +</p> + +<p> +“Heavens! The pendant!” cried Sonia, who was watching the scene +with parted lips and amazed eyes. +</p> + +<p> +Bernard dropped on his knees and clasped his hands. +</p> + +<p> +“Forgive me!” he cried, in a choking voice. “Forgive me! +Don’t tell any one! For God’s sake, don’t tell any +one!” +</p> + +<p> +And the tears came streaming from his eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“You young rogue!” said the Duke quietly. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll never do it again—never! Oh, have pity on me! If my +father knew! Oh, let me off!” cried Bernard. +</p> + +<p> +The Duke hesitated, and looked down on him, frowning and pulling at his +moustache. Then, more quickly than one would have expected from so careless a +trifler, his mind was made up. +</p> + +<p> +“All right,” he said slowly. “Just for this once ... be off +with you.” And he jerked him to his feet and almost threw him into the +outer hall. +</p> + +<p> +“Thanks! ... oh, thanks!” said Bernard. +</p> + +<p> +The Duke shut the door and looked at Sonia, breathing quickly. +</p> + +<p> +“Well? Did you ever see anything like that? That young fellow will go a +long way. The cheek of the thing! Right under our very eyes! And this pendant, +too: it would have been a pity to lose it. Upon my word, I ought to have handed +him over to the police.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, no!” cried Sonia. “You did quite right to let him +off—quite right.” +</p> + +<p> +The Duke set the pendant on the ledge of the bureau, and came down the hall to +Sonia. +</p> + +<p> +“What’s the matter?” he said gently. “You’re +quite pale.” +</p> + +<p> +“It has upset me ... that unfortunate boy,” said Sonia; and her +eyes were swimming with tears. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you pity the young rogue?” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; it’s dreadful. His eyes were so terrified, and so boyish. +And, to be caught like that ... stealing ... in the act. Oh, it’s +hateful!” +</p> + +<p> +“Come, come, how sensitive you are!” said the Duke, in a soothing, +almost caressing tone. His eyes, resting on her charming, troubled face, were +glowing with a warm admiration. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; it’s silly,” said Sonia; “but you noticed his +eyes—the hunted look in them? You pitied him, didn’t you? For you +are kind at bottom.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why at bottom?” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I said at bottom because you look sarcastic, and at first sight +you’re so cold. But often that’s only the mask of those who have +suffered the most.... They are the most indulgent,” said Sonia slowly, +hesitating, picking her words. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I suppose they are,” said the Duke thoughtfully. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s because when one has suffered one understands.... Yes: one +understands,” said Sonia. +</p> + +<p> +There was a pause. The Duke’s eyes still rested on her face. The +admiration in them was mingled with compassion. +</p> + +<p> +“You’re very unhappy here, aren’t you?” he said gently. +</p> + +<p> +“Me? Why?” said Sonia quickly. +</p> + +<p> +“Your smile is so sad, and your eyes so timid,” said the Duke +slowly. “You’re just like a little child one longs to protect. Are +you quite alone in the world?” +</p> + +<p> +His eyes and tones were full of pity; and a faint flush mantled Sonia’s +cheeks. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I’m alone,” she said. +</p> + +<p> +“But have you no relations—no friends?” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” said Sonia. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t mean here in France, but in your own country.... Surely +you have some in Russia?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, not a soul. You see, my father was a Revolutionist. He died in +Siberia when I was a baby. And my mother, she died too—in Paris. She had +fled from Russia. I was two years old when she died.” +</p> + +<p> +“It must be hard to be alone like that,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” said Sonia, with a faint smile, “I don’t mind +having no relations. I grew used to that so young ... so very young. But what +is hard—but you’ll laugh at me—” +</p> + +<p> +“Heaven forbid!” said the Duke gravely. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, what is hard is, never to get a letter ... an envelope that one +opens ... from some one who thinks about one—” +</p> + +<p> +She paused, and then added gravely: “But I tell myself that it’s +nonsense. I have a certain amount of philosophy.” +</p> + +<p> +She smiled at him—an adorable child’s smile. +</p> + +<p> +The Duke smiled too. “A certain amount of philosophy,” he said +softly. “You look like a philosopher!” +</p> + +<p> +As they stood looking at one another with serious eyes, almost with eyes that +probed one another’s souls, the drawing-room door flung open, and +Germaine’s harsh voice broke on their ears. +</p> + +<p> +“You’re getting quite impossible, Sonia!” she cried. +“It’s absolutely useless telling you anything. I told you +particularly to pack my leather writing-case in my bag with your own hand. I +happen to open a drawer, and what do I see? My leather writing-case.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m sorry,” said Sonia. “I was going—” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, there’s no need to bother about it. I’ll see after it +myself,” said Germaine. “But upon my word, you might be one of our +guests, seeing how easily you take things. You’re negligence +personified.” +</p> + +<p> +“Come, Germaine ... a mere oversight,” said the Duke, in a coaxing +tone. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, excuse me, Jacques; but you’ve got an unfortunate habit of +interfering in household matters. You did it only the other day. I can no +longer say a word to a servant—” +</p> + +<p> +“Germaine!” said the Duke, in sharp protest. +</p> + +<p> +Germaine turned from him to Sonia, and pointed to a packet of envelopes and +some letters, which Bernard Charolais had knocked off the table, and said, +“Pick up those envelopes and letters, and bring everything to my room, +and be quick about it!” +</p> + +<p> +She flung out of the room, and slammed the door behind her. +</p> + +<p> +Sonia seemed entirely unmoved by the outburst: no flush of mortification +stained her cheeks, her lips did not quiver. She stooped to pick up the fallen +papers. +</p> + +<p> +“No, no; let me, I beg you,” said the Duke, in a tone of distress. +And dropping on one knee, he began to gather together the fallen papers. He set +them on the table, and then he said: “You mustn’t mind what +Germaine says. She’s—she’s—she’s all right at +heart. It’s her manner. She’s always been happy, and had everything +she wanted. She’s been spoiled, don’t you know. Those kind of +people never have any consideration for any one else. You mustn’t let her +outburst hurt you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, but I don’t. I don’t really,” protested Sonia. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m glad of that,” said the Duke. “It isn’t +really worth noticing.” +</p> + +<p> +He drew the envelopes and unused cards into a packet, and handed them to her. +</p> + +<p> +“There!” he said, with a smile. “That won’t be too +heavy for you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you,” said Sonia, taking it from him. +</p> + +<p> +“Shall I carry them for you?” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“No, thank you, your Grace,” said Sonia. +</p> + +<p> +With a quick, careless, almost irresponsible movement, he caught her hand, bent +down, and kissed it. A great wave of rosy colour flowed over her face, flooding +its whiteness to her hair and throat. She stood for a moment turned to stone; +she put her hand to her heart. Then on hasty, faltering feet she went to the +door, opened it, paused on the threshold, turned and looked back at him, and +vanished. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap05"></a>CHAPTER V<br/> +A LETTER FROM LUPIN</h2> + +<p> +The Duke stood for a while staring thoughtfully at the door through which Sonia +had passed, a faint smile playing round his lips. He crossed the hall to the +Chippendale bureau, took a cigarette from a box which stood on the ledge of it, +beside the morocco case which held the pendant, lighted it, and went slowly out +on to the terrace. He crossed it slowly, paused for a moment on the edge of it, +and looked across the stretch of country with musing eyes, which saw nothing of +its beauty. Then he turned to the right, went down a flight of steps to the +lower terrace, crossed the lawn, and took a narrow path which led into the +heart of a shrubbery of tall deodoras. In the middle of it he came to one of +those old stone benches, moss-covered and weather-stained, which adorn the +gardens of so many French châteaux. It faced a marble basin from which rose the +slender column of a pattering fountain. The figure of a Cupid danced joyously +on a tall pedestal to the right of the basin. The Duke sat down on the bench, +and was still, with that rare stillness which only comes of nerves in perfect +harmony, his brow knitted in careful thought. Now and again the frown cleared +from his face, and his intent features relaxed into a faint smile, a smile of +pleasant memory. Once he rose, walked round the fountains frowning, came back +to the bench, and sat down again. The early September dusk was upon him when at +last he rose and with quick steps took his way through the shrubbery, with the +air of a man whose mind, for good or ill, was at last made up. +</p> + +<p> +When he came on to the upper terrace his eyes fell on a group which stood at +the further corner, near the entrance of the château, and he sauntered slowly +up to it. +</p> + +<p> +In the middle of it stood M. Gournay-Martin, a big, round, flabby hulk of a +man. He was nearly as red in the face as M. Charolais; and he looked a great +deal redder owing to the extreme whiteness of the whiskers which stuck out on +either side of his vast expanse of cheek. As he came up, it struck the Duke as +rather odd that he should have the Charolais eyes, set close together; any one +who did not know that they were strangers to one another might have thought it +a family likeness. +</p> + +<p> +The millionaire was waving his hands and roaring after the manner of a man who +has cultivated the art of brow-beating those with whom he does business; and as +the Duke neared the group, he caught the words: +</p> + +<p> +“No; that’s the lowest I’ll take. Take it or leave it. You +can say Yes, or you can say Good-bye; and I don’t care a hang +which.” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s very dear,” said M. Charolais, in a mournful tone. +</p> + +<p> +“Dear!” roared M. Gournay-Martin. “I should like to see any +one else sell a hundred horse-power car for eight hundred pounds. Why, my good +sir, you’re having me!” +</p> + +<p> +“No, no,” protested M. Charolais feebly. +</p> + +<p> +“I tell you you’re having me,” roared M. Gournay-Martin. +“I’m letting you have a magnificent car for which I paid thirteen +hundred pounds for eight hundred! It’s scandalous the way you’ve +beaten me down!” +</p> + +<p> +“No, no,” protested M. Charolais. +</p> + +<p> +He seemed frightened out of his life by the vehemence of the big man. +</p> + +<p> +“You wait till you’ve seen how it goes,” said M. +Gournay-Martin. +</p> + +<p> +“Eight hundred is very dear,” said M. Charolais. +</p> + +<p> +“Come, come! You’re too sharp, that’s what you are. But +don’t say any more till you’ve tried the car.” +</p> + +<p> +He turned to his chauffeur, who stood by watching the struggle with an +appreciative grin on his brown face, and said: “Now, Jean, take these +gentlemen to the garage, and run them down to the station. Show them what the +car can do. Do whatever they ask you—everything.” +</p> + +<p> +He winked at Jean, turned again to M. Charolais, and said: “You know, M. +Charolais, you’re too good a man of business for me. You’re hot +stuff, that’s what you are—hot stuff. You go along and try the car. +Good-bye—good-bye.” +</p> + +<p> +The four Charolais murmured good-bye in deep depression, and went off with +Jean, wearing something of the air of whipped dogs. When they had gone round +the corner the millionaire turned to the Duke and said, with a chuckle: +“He’ll buy the car all right—had him fine!” +</p> + +<p> +“No business success of yours could surprise me,” said the Duke +blandly, with a faint, ironical smile. +</p> + +<p> +M. Gournay-Martin’s little pig’s eyes danced and sparkled; and the +smiles flowed over the distended skin of his face like little ripples over a +stagnant pool, reluctantly. It seemed to be too tightly stretched for smiles. +</p> + +<p> +“The car’s four years old,” he said joyfully. +“He’ll give me eight hundred for it, and it’s not worth a +pipe of tobacco. And eight hundred pounds is just the price of a little Watteau +I’ve had my eye on for some time—a first-class investment.” +</p> + +<p> +They strolled down the terrace, and through one of the windows into the hall. +Firmin had lighted the lamps, two of them. They made but a small oasis of light +in a desert of dim hall. The millionaire let himself down very gingerly into an +Empire chair, as if he feared, with excellent reason, that it might collapse +under his weight. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, my dear Duke,” he said, “you don’t ask me the +result of my official lunch or what the minister said.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is there any news?” said the Duke carelessly. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. The decree will be signed to-morrow. You can consider yourself +decorated. I hope you feel a happy man,” said the millionaire, rubbing +his fat hands together with prodigious satisfaction. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, charmed—charmed,” said the Duke, with entire +indifference. +</p> + +<p> +“As for me, I’m delighted—delighted,” said the +millionaire. “I was extremely keen on your being decorated. After that, +and after a volume or two of travels, and after you’ve published your +grandfather’s letters with a good introduction, you can begin to think of +the Academy.” +</p> + +<p> +“The Academy!” said the Duke, startled from his usual coolness. +“But I’ve no title to become an Academician.” +</p> + +<p> +“How, no title?” said the millionaire solemnly; and his little eyes +opened wide. “You’re a duke.” +</p> + +<p> +“There’s no doubt about that,” said the Duke, watching him +with admiring curiosity. +</p> + +<p> +“I mean to marry my daughter to a worker—a worker, my dear +Duke,” said the millionaire, slapping his big left hand with his bigger +right. “I’ve no prejudices—not I. I wish to have for +son-in-law a duke who wears the Order of the Legion of Honour, and belongs to +the Academie Française, because that is personal merit. I’m no +snob.” +</p> + +<p> +A gentle, irrepressible laugh broke from the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“What are you laughing at?” said the millionaire, and a sudden +lowering gloom overspread his beaming face. +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing—nothing,” said the Duke quietly. “Only +you’re so full of surprises.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve startled you, have I? I thought I should. It’s true +that I’m full of surprises. It’s my knowledge. I understand so +much. I understand business, and I love art, pictures, a good bargain, +bric-a-brac, fine tapestry. They’re first-class investments. Yes, +certainly I do love the beautiful. And I don’t want to boast, but I +understand it. I have taste, and I’ve something better than taste; I have +a flair, the dealer’s flair.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, your collections, especially your collection in Paris, prove +it,” said the Duke, stifling a yawn. +</p> + +<p> +“And yet you haven’t seen the finest thing I have—the coronet +of the Princesse de Lamballe. It’s worth half a million francs.” +</p> + +<p> +“So I’ve heard,” said the Duke, a little wearily. “I +don’t wonder that Arsène Lupin envied you it.” +</p> + +<p> +The Empire chair creaked as the millionaire jumped. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t speak of the swine!” he roared. “Don’t +mention his name before me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Germaine showed me his letter,” said the Duke. “It is +amusing.” +</p> + +<p> +“His letter! The blackguard! I just missed a fit of apoplexy from +it,” roared the millionaire. “I was in this very hall where we are +now, chatting quietly, when all at once in comes Firmin, and hands me a +letter.” +</p> + +<p> +He was interrupted by the opening of the door. Firmin came clumping down the +room, and said in his deep voice, “A letter for you, sir.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you,” said the millionaire, taking the letter, and, as he +fitted his eye-glass into his eye, he went on, “Yes, Firmin brought me a +letter of which the handwriting,”—he raised the envelope he was +holding to his eyes, and bellowed, “Good heavens!” +</p> + +<p> +“What’s the matter?” said the Duke, jumping in his chair at +the sudden, startling burst of sound. +</p> + +<p> +“The handwriting!—the handwriting!—it’s THE SAME +HANDWRITING!” gasped the millionaire. And he let himself fall heavily +backwards against the back of his chair. +</p> + +<p> +There was a crash. The Duke had a vision of huge arms and legs waving in the +air as the chair-back gave. There was another crash. The chair collapsed. The +huge bulk banged to the floor. +</p> + +<p> +The laughter of the Duke rang out uncontrollably. He caught one of the waving +arms, and jerked the flabby giant to his feet with an ease which seemed to show +that his muscles were of steel. +</p> + +<p> +“Come,” he said, laughing still. “This is nonsense! What do +you mean by the same handwriting? It can’t be.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is the same handwriting. Am I likely to make a mistake about +it?” spluttered the millionaire. And he tore open the envelope with an +air of frenzy. +</p> + +<p> +He ran his eyes over it, and they grew larger and larger—they grew almost +of an average size. +</p> + +<p> +“Listen,” he said “listen:” +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +“DEAR SIR,” +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +“My collection of pictures, which I had the pleasure of starting three +years ago with some of your own, only contains, as far as Old Masters go, one +Velasquez, one Rembrandt, and three paltry Rubens. You have a great many more. +Since it is a shame such masterpieces should be in your hands, I propose to +appropriate them; and I shall set about a respectful acquisition of them in +your Paris house tomorrow morning.” +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +“Yours very sincerely,”<br/> +“ARSÈNE LUPIN.” +</p> + +<p> +“He’s humbugging,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“Wait! wait!” gasped the millionaire. “There’s a +postscript. Listen:” +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +“P.S.—You must understand that since you have been keeping the +coronet of the Princesse de Lamballe during these three years, I shall avail +myself of the same occasion to compel you to restore that piece of jewellery to +me.—A. L.” +</p> + +<p> +“The thief! The scoundrel! I’m choking!” gasped the +millionaire, clutching at his collar. +</p> + +<p> +To judge from the blackness of his face, and the way he staggered and dropped +on to a couch, which was fortunately stronger than the chair, he was speaking +the truth. +</p> + +<p> +“Firmin! Firmin!” shouted the Duke. “A glass of water! Quick! +Your master’s ill.” +</p> + +<p> +He rushed to the side of the millionaire, who gasped: “Telephone! +Telephone to the Prefecture of Police! Be quick!” +</p> + +<p> +The Duke loosened his collar with deft fingers; tore a Van Loo fan from its +case hanging on the wall, and fanned him furiously. Firmin came clumping into +the room with a glass of water in his hand. +</p> + +<p> +The drawing-room door opened, and Germaine and Sonia, alarmed by the +Duke’s shout, hurried in. +</p> + +<p> +“Quick! Your smelling-salts!” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +Sonia ran across the hall, opened one of the drawers in the Oriental cabinet, +and ran to the millionaire with a large bottle of smelling-salts in her hand. +The Duke took it from her, and applied it to the millionaire’s nose. The +millionaire sneezed thrice with terrific violence. The Duke snatched the glass +from Firmin and dashed the water into his host’s purple face. The +millionaire gasped and spluttered. +</p> + +<p> +Germaine stood staring helplessly at her gasping sire. +</p> + +<p> +“Whatever’s the matter?” she said. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s this letter,” said the Duke. “A letter from +Lupin.” +</p> + +<p> +“I told you so—I said that Lupin was in the neighbourhood,” +cried Germaine triumphantly. +</p> + +<p> +“Firmin—where’s Firmin?” said the millionaire, dragging +himself upright. He seemed to have recovered a great deal of his voice. +“Oh, there you are!” +</p> + +<p> +He jumped up, caught the gamekeeper by the shoulder, and shook him furiously. +</p> + +<p> +“This letter. Where did it come from? Who brought it?” he roared. +</p> + +<p> +“It was in the letter-box—the letter-box of the lodge at the bottom +of the park. My wife found it there,” said Firmin, and he twisted out of +the millionaire’s grasp. +</p> + +<p> +“Just as it was three years ago,” roared the millionaire, with an +air of desperation. “It’s exactly the same coup. Oh, what a +catastrophe! What a catastrophe!” +</p> + +<p> +He made as if to tear out his hair; then, remembering its scantiness, +refrained. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, come, it’s no use losing your head,” said the Duke, +with quiet firmness. “If this letter isn’t a hoax—” +</p> + +<p> +“Hoax?” bellowed the millionaire. “Was it a hoax three years +ago?” +</p> + +<p> +“Very good,” said the Duke. “But if this robbery with which +you’re threatened is genuine, it’s just childish.” +</p> + +<p> +“How?” said the millionaire. +</p> + +<p> +“Look at the date of the letter—Sunday, September the third. This +letter was written to-day.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. Well, what of it?” said the millionaire. +</p> + +<p> +“Look at the letter: ‘I shall set about a respectful acquisition of +them in your Paris house to-morrow morning’—to-morrow +morning.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, yes; ‘to-morrow morning’—what of it?” said +the millionaire. +</p> + +<p> +“One of two things,” said the Duke. “Either it’s a +hoax, and we needn’t bother about it; or the threat is genuine, and we +have the time to stop the robbery.” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course we have. Whatever was I thinking of?” said the +millionaire. And his anguish cleared from his face. +</p> + +<p> +“For once in a way our dear Lupin’s fondness for warning people +will have given him a painful jar,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“Come on! let me get at the telephone,” cried the millionaire. +</p> + +<p> +“But the telephone’s no good,” said Sonia quickly. +</p> + +<p> +“No good! Why?” roared the millionaire, dashing heavily across the +room to it. +</p> + +<p> +“Look at the time,” said Sonia; “the telephone doesn’t +work as late as this. It’s Sunday.” +</p> + +<p> +The millionaire stopped dead. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s true. It’s appalling,” he groaned. +</p> + +<p> +“But that doesn’t matter. You can always telegraph,” said +Germaine. +</p> + +<p> +“But you can’t. It’s impossible,” said Sonia. +“You can’t get a message through. It’s Sunday; and the +telegraph offices shut at twelve o’clock.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, what a Government!” groaned the millionaire. And he sank down +gently on a chair beside the telephone, and mopped the beads of anguish from +his brow. They looked at him, and they looked at one another, cudgelling their +brains for yet another way of communicating with the Paris police. +</p> + +<p> +“Hang it all!” said the Duke. “There must be some way out of +the difficulty.” +</p> + +<p> +“What way?” said the millionaire. +</p> + +<p> +The Duke did not answer. He put his hands in his pockets and walked impatiently +up and down the hall. Germaine sat down on a chair. Sonia put her hands on the +back of a couch, and leaned forward, watching him. Firmin stood by the door, +whither he had retired to be out of the reach of his excited master, with a +look of perplexity on his stolid face. They all watched the Duke with the air +of people waiting for an oracle to deliver its message. The millionaire kept +mopping the beads of anguish from his brow. The more he thought of his +impending loss, the more freely he perspired. Germaine’s maid, Irma, came +to the door leading into the outer hall, which Firmin, according to his usual +custom, had left open, and peered in wonder at the silent group. +</p> + +<p> +“I have it!” cried the Duke at last. “There is a way +out.” +</p> + +<p> +“What is it?” said the millionaire, rising and coming to the middle +of the hall. +</p> + +<p> +“What time is it?” said the Duke, pulling out his watch. +</p> + +<p> +The millionaire pulled out his watch. Germaine pulled out hers. Firmin, after a +struggle, produced from some pocket difficult of access an object not unlike a +silver turnip. There was a brisk dispute between Germaine and the millionaire +about which of their watches was right. Firmin, whose watch apparently did not +agree with the watch of either of them, made his deep voice heard above theirs. +The Duke came to the conclusion that it must be a few minutes past seven. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s seven or a few minutes past,” he said sharply. +“Well, I’m going to take a car and hurry off to Paris. I ought to +get there, bar accidents, between two and three in the morning, just in time to +inform the police and catch the burglars in the very midst of their burglary. +I’ll just get a few things together.” +</p> + +<p> +So saying, he rushed out of the hall. +</p> + +<p> +“Excellent! excellent!” said the millionaire. “Your young man +is a man of resource, Germaine. It seems almost a pity that he’s a duke. +He’d do wonders in the building trade. But I’m going to Paris too, +and you’re coming with me. I couldn’t wait idly here, to save my +life. And I can’t leave you here, either. This scoundrel may be going to +make a simultaneous attempt on the château—not that there’s much +here that I really value. There’s that statuette that moved, and the pane +cut out of the window. I can’t leave you two girls with burglars in the +house. After all, there’s the sixty horse-power and the thirty +horse-power car—there’ll be lots of room for all of us.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, but it’s nonsense, papa; we shall get there before the +servants,” said Germaine pettishly. “Think of arriving at an empty +house in the dead of night.” +</p> + +<p> +“Nonsense!” said the millionaire. “Hurry off and get ready. +Your bag ought to be packed. Where are my keys? Sonia, where are my +keys—the keys of the Paris house?” +</p> + +<p> +“They’re in the bureau,” said Sonia. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, see that I don’t go without them. Now hurry up. Firmin, go +and tell Jean that we shall want both cars. I will drive one, the Duke the +other. Jean must stay with you and help guard the château.” +</p> + +<p> +So saying he bustled out of the hall, driving the two girls before him. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap06"></a>CHAPTER VI<br/> +AGAIN THE CHAROLAIS</h2> + +<p> +Hardly had the door closed behind the millionaire when the head of M. Charolais +appeared at one of the windows opening on to the terrace. He looked round the +empty hall, whistled softly, and stepped inside. Inside of ten seconds his +three sons came in through the windows, and with them came Jean, the +millionaire’s chauffeur. +</p> + +<p> +“Take the door into the outer hall, Jean,” said M. Charolais, in a +low voice. “Bernard, take that door into the drawing-room. Pierre and +Louis, help me go through the drawers. The whole family is going to Paris, and +if we’re not quick we shan’t get the cars.” +</p> + +<p> +“That comes of this silly fondness for warning people of a coup,” +growled Jean, as he hurried to the door of the outer hall. “It would have +been so simple to rob the Paris house without sending that infernal letter. It +was sure to knock them all silly.” +</p> + +<p> +“What harm can the letter do, you fool?” said M. Charolais. +“It’s Sunday. We want them knocked silly for to-morrow, to get hold +of the coronet. Oh, to get hold of that coronet! It must be in Paris. +I’ve been ransacking this château for hours.” +</p> + +<p> +Jean opened the door of the outer hall half an inch, and glued his eyes to it. +Bernard had done the same with the door opening into the drawing-room. M. +Charolais, Pierre, and Louis were opening drawers, ransacking them, and +shutting them with infinite quickness and noiselessly. +</p> + +<p> +“Bureau! Which is the bureau? The place is stuffed with bureaux!” +growled M. Charolais. “I must have those keys.” +</p> + +<p> +“That plain thing with the brass handles in the middle on the +left—that’s a bureau,” said Bernard softly. +</p> + +<p> +“Why didn’t you say so?” growled M. Charolais. +</p> + +<p> +He dashed to it, and tried it. It was locked. +</p> + +<p> +“Locked, of course! Just my luck! Come and get it open, Pierre. Be +smart!” +</p> + +<p> +The son he had described as an engineer came quickly to the bureau, fitting +together as he came the two halves of a small jemmy. He fitted it into the top +of the flap. There was a crunch, and the old lock gave. He opened the flap, and +he and M. Charolais pulled open drawer after drawer. +</p> + +<p> +“Quick! Here’s that fat old fool!” said Jean, in a hoarse, +hissing whisper. +</p> + +<p> +He moved down the hall, blowing out one of the lamps as he passed it. In the +seventh drawer lay a bunch of keys. M. Charolais snatched it up, glanced at it, +took a bunch of keys from his own pocket, put it in the drawer, closed it, +closed the flap, and rushed to the window. Jean and his sons were already out +on the terrace. +</p> + +<p> +M. Charolais was still a yard from the window when the door into the outer hall +opened and in came M. Gournay-Martin. +</p> + +<p> +He caught a glimpse of a back vanishing through the window, and bellowed: +“Hi! A man! A burglar! Firmin! Firmin!” +</p> + +<p> +He ran blundering down the hall, tangled his feet in the fragments of the +broken chair, and came sprawling a thundering cropper, which knocked every +breath of wind out of his capacious body. He lay flat on his face for a couple +of minutes, his broad back wriggling convulsively—a pathetic +sight!—in the painful effort to get his breath back. Then he sat up, and +with perfect frankness burst into tears. He sobbed and blubbered, like a small +child that has hurt itself, for three or four minutes. Then, having recovered +his magnificent voice, he bellowed furiously: “Firmin! Firmin! +Charmerace! Charmerace!” +</p> + +<p> +Then he rose painfully to his feet, and stood staring at the open windows. +</p> + +<p> +Presently he roared again: “Firmin! Firmin! Charmerace! +Charmerace!” +</p> + +<p> +He kept looking at the window with terrified eyes, as though he expected +somebody to step in and cut his throat from ear to ear. +</p> + +<p> +“Firmin! Firmin! Charmerace! Charmerace!” he bellowed again. +</p> + +<p> +The Duke came quietly into the hall, dressed in a heavy motor-coat, his +motor-cap on his head, and carrying a kit-bag in his hand. +</p> + +<p> +“Did I hear you call?” he said. +</p> + +<p> +“Call?” said the millionaire. “I shouted. The burglars are +here already. I’ve just seen one of them. He was bolting through the +middle window.” +</p> + +<p> +The Duke raised his eyebrows. +</p> + +<p> +“Nerves,” he said gently—“nerves.” +</p> + +<p> +“Nerves be hanged!” said the millionaire. “I tell you I saw +him as plainly as I see you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, you can’t see me at all, seeing that you’re lighting +an acre and a half of hall with a single lamp,” said the Duke, still in a +tone of utter incredulity. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s that fool Firmin! He ought to have lighted six. Firmin! +Firmin!” bellowed the millionaire. +</p> + +<p> +They listened for the sonorous clumping of the promoted gamekeeper’s +boots, but they did not hear it. Evidently Firmin was still giving his +master’s instructions about the cars to Jean. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, we may as well shut the windows, anyhow,” said the Duke, +proceeding to do so. “If you think Firmin would be any good, you might +post him in this hall with a gun to-night. There could be no harm in putting a +charge of small shot into the legs of these ruffians. He has only to get one of +them, and the others will go for their lives. Yet I don’t like leaving +you and Germaine in this big house with only Firmin to look after you.” +</p> + +<p> +“I shouldn’t like it myself, and I’m not going to chance +it,” growled the millionaire. “We’re going to motor to Paris +along with you, and leave Jean to help Firmin fight these burglars. +Firmin’s all right—he’s an old soldier. He fought in +’70. Not that I’ve much belief in soldiers against this cursed +Lupin, after the way he dealt with that corporal and his men three years +ago.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m glad you’re coming to Paris,” said the Duke. +“It’ll be a weight off my mind. I’d better drive the +limousine, and you take the landaulet.” +</p> + +<p> +“That won’t do,” said the millionaire. “Germaine +won’t go in the limousine. You know she has taken a dislike to it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Nevertheless, I’d better bucket on to Paris, and let you follow +slowly with Germaine. The sooner I get to Paris the better for your collection. +I’ll take Mademoiselle Kritchnoff with me, and, if you like, Irma, though +the lighter I travel the sooner I shall get there.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, I’ll take Irma and Germaine,” said the millionaire. +“Germaine would prefer to have Irma with her, in case you had an +accident. She wouldn’t like to get to Paris and have to find a fresh +maid.” +</p> + +<p> +The drawing-room door opened, and in came Germaine, followed by Sonia and Irma. +They wore motor-cloaks and hoods and veils. Sonia and Irma were carrying +hand-bags. +</p> + +<p> +“I think it’s extremely tiresome your dragging us off to Paris like +this in the middle of the night,” said Germaine pettishly. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you?” said the millionaire. “Well, then, you’ll be +interested to hear that I’ve just seen a burglar here in this very room. +I frightened him, and he bolted through the window on to the terrace.” +</p> + +<p> +“He was greenish-pink, slightly tinged with yellow,” said the Duke +softly. +</p> + +<p> +“Greenish-pink? Oh, do stop your jesting, Jacques! Is this a time for +idiocy?” cried Germaine, in a tone of acute exasperation. +</p> + +<p> +“It was the dim light which made your father see him in those colours. In +a bright light, I think he would have been an Alsatian blue,” said the +Duke suavely. +</p> + +<p> +“You’ll have to break yourself of this silly habit of trifling, my +dear Duke, if ever you expect to be a member of the Academie Française,” +said the millionaire with some acrimony. “I tell you I did see a +burglar.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, yes. I admitted it frankly. It was his colour I was talking +about,” said the Duke, with an ironical smile. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, stop your idiotic jokes! We’re all sick to death of +them!” said Germaine, with something of the fine fury which so often +distinguished her father. +</p> + +<p> +“There are times for all things,” said the millionaire solemnly. +“And I must say that, with the fate of my collection and of the coronet +trembling in the balance, this does not seem to me a season for idle +jests.” +</p> + +<p> +“I stand reproved,” said the Duke; and he smiled at Sonia. +</p> + +<p> +“My keys, Sonia—the keys of the Paris house,” said the +millionaire. +</p> + +<p> +Sonia took her own keys from her pocket and went to the bureau. She slipped a +key into the lock and tried to turn it. It would not turn; and she bent down to +look at it. +</p> + +<p> +“Why—why, some one’s been tampering with the lock! It’s +broken!” she cried. +</p> + +<p> +“I told you I’d seen a burglar!” cried the millionaire +triumphantly. “He was after the keys.” +</p> + +<p> +Sonia drew back the flap of the bureau and hastily pulled open the drawer in +which the keys had been. +</p> + +<p> +“They’re here!” she cried, taking them out of the drawer and +holding them up. +</p> + +<p> +“Then I was just in time,” said the millionaire. “I startled +him in the very act of stealing the keys.” +</p> + +<p> +“I withdraw! I withdraw!” said the Duke. “You did see a +burglar, evidently. But still I believe he was greenish-pink. They often are. +However, you’d better give me those keys, Mademoiselle Sonia, since +I’m to get to Paris first. I should look rather silly if, when I got +there, I had to break into the house to catch the burglars.” +</p> + +<p> +Sonia handed the keys to the Duke. He contrived to take her little hand, keys +and all, into his own, as he received them, and squeezed it. The light was too +dim for the others to see the flush which flamed in her face. She went back and +stood beside the bureau. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, papa, are you going to motor to Paris in a thin coat and linen +waistcoat? If we’re going, we’d better go. You always do keep us +waiting half an hour whenever we start to go anywhere,” said Germaine +firmly. +</p> + +<p> +The millionaire bustled out of the room. With a gesture of impatience Germaine +dropped into a chair. Irma stood waiting by the drawing-room door. Sonia sat +down by the bureau. +</p> + +<p> +There came a sharp patter of rain against the windows. +</p> + +<p> +“Rain! It only wanted that! It’s going to be perfectly +beastly!” cried Germaine. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, well, you must make the best of it. At any rate you’re well +wrapped up, and the night is warm enough, though it is raining,” said the +Duke. “Still, I could have wished that Lupin confined his operations to +fine weather.” He paused, and added cheerfully, “But, after all, it +will lay the dust.” +</p> + +<p> +They sat for three or four minutes in a dull silence, listening to the +pattering of the rain against the panes. The Duke took his cigarette-case from +his pocket and lighted a cigarette. +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly he lost his bored air; his face lighted up; and he said joyfully: +“Of course, why didn’t I think of it? Why should we start from a +pit of gloom like this? Let us have the proper illumination which our +enterprise deserves.” +</p> + +<p> +With that he set about lighting all the lamps in the hall. There were lamps on +stands, lamps on brackets, lamps on tables, and lamps which hung from the +roof—old-fashioned lamps with new reservoirs, new lamps of what is called +chaste design, brass lamps, silver lamps, and lamps in porcelain. The Duke +lighted them one after another, patiently, missing none, with a cold +perseverance. The operation was punctuated by exclamations from Germaine. They +were all to the effect that she could not understand how he could be such a +fool. The Duke paid no attention whatever to her. His face illumined with +boyish glee, he lighted lamp after lamp. +</p> + +<p> +Sonia watched him with a smiling admiration of the childlike enthusiasm with +which he performed the task. Even the stolid face of the ox-eyed Irma relaxed +into grins, which she smoothed quickly out with a respectful hand. +</p> + +<p> +The Duke had just lighted the twenty-second lamp when in bustled the +millionaire. +</p> + +<p> +“What’s this? What’s this?” he cried, stopping short, +blinking. +</p> + +<p> +“Just some more of Jacques’ foolery!” cried Germaine in tones +of the last exasperation. +</p> + +<p> +“But, my dear Duke!—my dear Duke! The oil!—the oil!” +cried the millionaire, in a tone of bitter distress. “Do you think +it’s my object in life to swell the Rockefeller millions? We never have +more than six lamps burning unless we are holding a reception.” +</p> + +<p> +“I think it looks so cheerful,” said the Duke, looking round on his +handiwork with a beaming smile of satisfaction. “But where are the cars? +Jean seems a deuce of a time bringing them round. Does he expect us to go to +the garage through this rain? We’d better hurry him up. Come on; +you’ve got a good carrying voice.” +</p> + +<p> +He caught the millionaire by the arm, hurried him through the outer hall, +opened the big door of the château, and said: “Now shout!” +</p> + +<p> +The millionaire looked at him, shrugged his shoulders, and said: “You +don’t beat about the bush when you want anything.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why should I?” said the Duke simply. “Shout, my good +chap—shout!” +</p> + +<p> +The millionaire raised his voice in a terrific bellow of “Jean! Jean! +Firmin! Firmin!” +</p> + +<p> +There was no answer. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap07"></a>CHAPTER VII<br/> +THE THEFT OF THE MOTOR-CARS</h2> + +<p> +The night was very black; the rain pattered in their faces. +</p> + +<p> +Again the millionaire bellowed: “Jean! Firmin! Firmin! Jean!” +</p> + +<p> +No answer came out of the darkness, though his bellow echoed and re-echoed +among the out-buildings and stables away on the left. +</p> + +<p> +He turned and looked at the Duke and said uneasily, “What on earth can +they be doing?” +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t conceive,” said the Duke. “I suppose we must +go and hunt them out.” +</p> + +<p> +“What! in this darkness, with these burglars about?” said the +millionaire, starting back. +</p> + +<p> +“If we don’t, nobody else will,” said the Duke. “And +all the time that rascal Lupin is stealing nearer and nearer your pictures. So +buck up, and come along!” +</p> + +<p> +He seized the reluctant millionaire by the arm and drew him down the steps. +They took their way to the stables. A dim light shone from the open door of the +motor-house. The Duke went into it first, and stopped short. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I’ll be hanged!” he cried, +</p> + +<p> +Instead of three cars the motor-house held but one—the hundred +horse-power Mercrac. It was a racing car, with only two seats. On them sat two +figures, Jean and Firmin. +</p> + +<p> +“What are you sitting there for? You idle dogs!” bellowed the +millionaire. +</p> + +<p> +Neither of the men answered, nor did they stir. The light from the lamp gleamed +on their fixed eyes, which stared at their infuriated master. +</p> + +<p> +“What on earth is this?” said the Duke; and seizing the lamp which +stood beside the car, he raised it so that its light fell on the two figures. +Then it was clear what had happened: they were trussed like two fowls, and +gagged. +</p> + +<p> +The Duke pulled a penknife from his pocket, opened the blade, stepped into the +car and set Firmin free. Firmin coughed and spat and swore. The Duke cut the +bonds of Jean. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” said the Duke, in a tone of cutting irony, “what new +game is this? What have you been playing at?” +</p> + +<p> +“It was those Charolais—those cursed Charolais!” growled +Firmin. +</p> + +<p> +“They came on us unawares from behind,” said Jean. +</p> + +<p> +“They tied us up, and gagged us—the swine!” said Firmin. +</p> + +<p> +“And then—they went off in the two cars,” said Jean. +</p> + +<p> +“Went off in the two cars?” cried the millionaire, in blank +stupefaction. +</p> + +<p> +The Duke burst into a shout of laughter. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, your dear friend Lupin doesn’t do things by halves,” +he cried. “This is the funniest thing I ever heard of.” +</p> + +<p> +“Funny!” howled the millionaire. “Funny! Where does the fun +come in? What about my pictures and the coronet?” +</p> + +<p> +The Duke laughed his laugh out; then changed on the instant to a man of action. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, this means a change in our plans,” he said. “I must +get to Paris in this car here.” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s such a rotten old thing,” said the millionaire. +“You’ll never do it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Never mind,” said the Duke. “I’ve got to do it +somehow. I daresay it’s better than you think. And after all, it’s +only a matter of two hundred miles.” He paused, and then said in an +anxious tone: “All the same I don’t like leaving you and Germaine +in the château. These rogues have probably only taken the cars out of reach +just to prevent your getting to Paris. They’ll leave them in some field +and come back.” +</p> + +<p> +“You’re not going to leave us behind. I wouldn’t spend the +night in the château for a million francs. There’s always the +train,” said the millionaire. +</p> + +<p> +“The train! Twelve hours in the train—with all those changes! You +don’t mean that you will actually go to Paris by train?” said the +Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“I do,” said the millionaire. “Come along—I must go and +tell Germaine; there’s no time to waste,” and he hurried off to the +château. +</p> + +<p> +“Get the lamps lighted, Jean, and make sure that the tank’s full. +As for the engine, I must humour it and trust to luck. I’ll get her to +Paris somehow,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +He went back to the château, and Firmin followed him. +</p> + +<p> +When the Duke came into the great hall he found Germaine and her father +indulging in recriminations. She was declaring that nothing would induce her to +make the journey by train; her father was declaring that she should. He bore +down her opposition by the mere force of his magnificent voice. +</p> + +<p> +When at last there came a silence, Sonia said quietly: “But is there a +train? I know there’s a train at midnight; but is there one +before?” +</p> + +<p> +“A time-table—where’s a time-table?” said the +millionaire. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, where did I see a time-table?” said the Duke. “Oh, I +know; there’s one in the drawer of that Oriental cabinet.” Crossing +to the cabinet, he opened the drawer, took out the time-table, and handed it to +M. Gournay-Martin. +</p> + +<p> +The millionaire took it and turned over the leaves quickly, ran his eye down a +page, and said, “Yes, thank goodness, there is a train. There’s one +at a quarter to nine.” +</p> + +<p> +“And what good is it to us? How are we to get to the station?” said +Germaine. +</p> + +<p> +They looked at one another blankly. Firmin, who had followed the Duke into the +hall, came to the rescue. +</p> + +<p> +“There’s the luggage-cart,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +“The luggage-cart!” cried Germaine contemptuously. +</p> + +<p> +“The very thing!” said the millionaire. “I’ll drive it +myself. Off you go, Firmin; harness a horse to it.” +</p> + +<p> +Firmin went clumping out of the hall. +</p> + +<p> +It was perhaps as well that he went, for the Duke asked what time it was; and +since the watches of Germaine and her father differed still, there ensued an +altercation in which, had Firmin been there, he would doubtless have taken +part. +</p> + +<p> +The Duke cut it short by saying: “Well, I don’t think I’ll +wait to see you start for the station. It won’t take you more than half +an hour. The cart is light. You needn’t start yet. I’d better get +off as soon as the car is ready. It isn’t as though I could trust +it.” +</p> + +<p> +“One moment,” said Germaine. “Is there a dining-car on the +train? I’m not going to be starved as well as have my night’s rest +cut to pieces.” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course there isn’t a dining-car,” snapped her father. +“We must eat something now, and take something with us.” +</p> + +<p> +“Sonia, Irma, quick! Be off to the larder and see what you can find. Tell +Mother Firmin to make an omelette. Be quick!” +</p> + +<p> +Sonia went towards the door of the hall, followed by Irma. +</p> + +<p> +“Good-night, and bon voyage, Mademoiselle Sonia,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“Good-night, and bon voyage, your Grace,” said Sonia. +</p> + +<p> +The Duke opened the door of the hall for her; and as she went out, she said +anxiously, in a low voice: “Oh, do—do be careful. I hate to think +of your hurrying to Paris on a night like this. Please be careful.” +</p> + +<p> +“I will be careful,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +The honk of the motor-horn told him that Jean had brought the car to the door +of the château. He came down the room, kissed Germaine’s hands, shook +hands with the millionaire, and bade them good-night. Then he went out to the +car. They heard it start; the rattle of it grew fainter and fainter down the +long avenue and died away. +</p> + +<p> +M. Gournay-Martin arose, and began putting out lamps. As he did so, he kept +casting fearful glances at the window, as if he feared lest, now that the Duke +had gone, the burglars should dash in upon him. +</p> + +<p> +There came a knock at the door, and Jean appeared on the threshold. +</p> + +<p> +“His Grace told me that I was to come into the house, and help Firmin +look after it,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +The millionaire gave him instructions about the guarding of the house. Firmin, +since he was an old soldier, was to occupy the post of honour, and guard the +hall, armed with his gun. Jean was to guard the two drawing-rooms, as being +less likely points of attack. He also was to have a gun; and the millionaire +went with him to the gun-room and gave him one and a dozen cartridges. When +they came back to the hall, Sonia called them into the dining-room; and there, +to the accompaniment of an unsubdued grumbling from Germaine at having to eat +cold food at eight at night, they made a hasty but excellent meal, since the +chef had left an elaborate cold supper ready to be served. +</p> + +<p> +They had nearly finished it when Jean came in, his gun on his arm, to say that +Firmin had harnessed the horse to the luggage-cart, and it was awaiting them at +the door of the château. +</p> + +<p> +“Send him in to me, and stand by the horse till we come out,” said +the millionaire. +</p> + +<p> +Firmin came clumping in. +</p> + +<p> +The millionaire gazed at him solemnly, and said: “Firmin, I am relying on +you. I am leaving you in a position of honour and danger—a position which +an old soldier of France loves.” +</p> + +<p> +Firmin did his best to look like an old soldier of France. He pulled himself up +out of the slouch which long years of loafing through woods with a gun on his +arm had given him. He lacked also the old soldier of France’s fiery gaze. +His eyes were lack-lustre. +</p> + +<p> +“I look for anything, Firmin—burglary, violence, an armed +assault,” said the millionaire. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t be afraid, sir. I saw the war of ’70,” said +Firmin boldly, rising to the occasion. +</p> + +<p> +“Good!” said the millionaire. “I confide the château to you. +I trust you with my treasures.” +</p> + +<p> +He rose, and saying “Come along, we must be getting to the +station,” he led the way to the door of the château. +</p> + +<p> +The luggage-cart stood rather high, and they had to bring a chair out of the +hall to enable the girls to climb into it. Germaine did not forget to give her +real opinion of the advantages of a seat formed by a plank resting on the sides +of the cart. The millionaire climbed heavily up in front, and took the reins. +</p> + +<p> +“Never again will I trust only to motor-cars. The first thing I’ll +do after I’ve made sure that my collections are safe will be to buy +carriages—something roomy,” he said gloomily, as he realized the +discomfort of his seat. +</p> + +<p> +He turned to Jean and Firmin, who stood on the steps of the château watching +the departure of their master, and said: “Sons of France, be +brave—be brave!” +</p> + +<p> +The cart bumped off into the damp, dark night. +</p> + +<p> +Jean and Firmin watched it disappear into the darkness. Then they came into the +château and shut the door. +</p> + +<p> +Firmin looked at Jean, and said gloomily: “I don’t like this. These +burglars stick at nothing. They’d as soon cut your throat as look at +you.” +</p> + +<p> +“It can’t be helped,” said Jean. “Besides, you’ve +got the post of honour. You guard the hall. I’m to look after the +drawing-rooms. They’re not likely to break in through the drawing-rooms. +And I shall lock the door between them and the hall.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, no; you won’t lock that door!” cried Firmin. +</p> + +<p> +“But I certainly will,” said Jean. “You’d better come +and get a gun.” +</p> + +<p> +They went to the gun-room, Firmin still protesting against the locking of the +door between the drawing-rooms and the hall. He chose his gun; and they went +into the kitchen. Jean took two bottles of wine, a rich-looking pie, a sweet, +and carried them to the drawing-room. He came back into the hall, gathered +together an armful of papers and magazines, and went back to the drawing-room. +Firmin kept trotting after him, like a little dog with a somewhat heavy +footfall. +</p> + +<p> +On the threshold of the drawing-room Jean paused and said: “The important +thing with burglars is to fire first, old cock. Good-night. Pleasant +dreams.” +</p> + +<p> +He shut the door and turned the key. Firmin stared at the decorated panels +blankly. The beauty of the scheme of decoration did not, at the moment, move +him to admiration. +</p> + +<p> +He looked fearfully round the empty hall and at the windows, black against the +night. Under the patter of the rain he heard footsteps—distinctly. He +went hastily clumping down the hall, and along the passage to the kitchen. +</p> + +<p> +His wife was setting his supper on the table. +</p> + +<p> +“My God!” he said. “I haven’t been so frightened since +’70.” And he mopped his glistening forehead with a dish-cloth. It +was not a clean dish-cloth; but he did not care. +</p> + +<p> +“Frightened? What of?” said his wife. +</p> + +<p> +“Burglars! Cut-throats!” said Firmin. +</p> + +<p> +He told her of the fears of M. Gournay-Martin, and of his own appointment to +the honourable and dangerous post of guard of the château. +</p> + +<p> +“God save us!” said his wife. “You lock the door of that +beastly hall, and come into the kitchen. Burglars won’t bother about the +kitchen.” +</p> + +<p> +“But the master’s treasures!” protested Firmin. “He +confided them to me. He said so distinctly.” +</p> + +<p> +“Let the master look after his treasures himself,” said Madame +Firmin, with decision. “You’ve only one throat; and I’m not +going to have it cut. You sit down and eat your supper. Go and lock that door +first, though.” +</p> + +<p> +Firmin locked the door of the hall; then he locked the door of the kitchen; +then he sat down, and began to eat his supper. His appetite was hearty, but +none the less he derived little pleasure from the meal. He kept stopping with +the food poised on his fork, midway between the plate and his mouth, for +several seconds at a time, while he listened with straining ears for the sound +of burglars breaking in the windows of the hall. He was much too far from those +windows to hear anything that happened to them, but that did not prevent him +from straining his ears. Madame Firmin ate her supper with an air of perfect +ease. She felt sure that burglars would not bother with the kitchen. +</p> + +<p> +Firmin’s anxiety made him terribly thirsty. Tumbler after tumbler of wine +flowed down the throat for which he feared. When he had finished his supper he +went on satisfying his thirst. Madame Firmin lighted his pipe for him, and went +and washed up the supper-dishes in the scullery. Then she came back, and sat +down on the other side of the hearth, facing him. About the middle of his third +bottle of wine, Firmin’s cold, relentless courage was suddenly restored +to him. He began to talk firmly about his duty to his master, his resolve to +die, if need were, in defence of his interests, of his utter contempt for +burglars—probably Parisians. But he did not go into the hall. Doubtless +the pleasant warmth of the kitchen fire held him in his chair. +</p> + +<p> +He had described to his wife, with some ferocity, the cruel manner in which he +would annihilate the first three burglars who entered the hall, and was +proceeding to describe his method of dealing with the fourth, when there came a +loud knocking on the front door of the château. +</p> + +<p> +Stricken silent, turned to stone, Firmin sat with his mouth open, in the midst +of an unfinished word. Madame Firmin scuttled to the kitchen door she had left +unlocked on her return from the scullery, and locked it. She turned, and they +stared at one another. +</p> + +<p> +The heavy knocker fell again and again and again. Between the knocking there +was a sound like the roaring of lions. Husband and wife stared at one another +with white faces. Firmin picked up his gun with trembling hands, and the +movement seemed to set his teeth chattering. They chattered like castanets. +</p> + +<p> +The knocking still went on, and so did the roaring. +</p> + +<p> +It had gone on at least for five minutes, when a slow gleam of comprehension +lightened Madame Firmin’s face. +</p> + +<p> +“I believe it’s the master’s voice,” she said. +</p> + +<p> +“The master’s voice!” said Firmin, in a hoarse, terrified +whisper. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said Madame Firmin. And she unlocked the thick door and +opened it a few inches. +</p> + +<p> +The barrier removed, the well-known bellow of the millionaire came distinctly +to their ears. Firmin’s courage rushed upon him in full flood. He clumped +across the room, brushed his wife aside, and trotted to the door of the +château. He unlocked it, drew the bolts, and threw it open. On the steps stood +the millionaire, Germaine, and Sonia. Irma stood at the horse’s head. +</p> + +<p> +“What the devil have you been doing?” bellowed the millionaire. +“What do you keep me standing in the rain for? Why didn’t you let +me in?” +</p> + +<p> +“B-b-b-burglars—I thought you were b-b-b-burglars,” stammered +Firmin. +</p> + +<p> +“Burglars!” howled the millionaire. “Do I sound like a +burglar?” +</p> + +<p> +At the moment he did not; he sounded more like a bull of Bashan. He bustled +past Firmin to the door of the hall. +</p> + +<p> +“Here! What’s this locked for?” he bellowed. +</p> + +<p> +“I—I—locked it in case burglars should get in while I was +opening the front door,” stammered Firmin. +</p> + +<p> +The millionaire turned the key, opened the door, and went into the hall. +Germaine followed him. She threw off her dripping coat, and said with some +heat: “I can’t conceive why you didn’t make sure that there +was a train at a quarter to nine. I will not go to Paris to-night. Nothing +shall induce me to take that midnight train!” +</p> + +<p> +“Nonsense!” said the millionaire. +“Nonsense—you’ll have to go! Where’s that infernal +time-table?” He rushed to the table on to which he had thrown the +time-table after looking up the train, snatched it up, and looked at the cover. +“Why, hang it!” he cried. “It’s for June—June, +1903!” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh!” cried Germaine, almost in a scream. “It’s +incredible! It’s one of Jacques’ jokes!” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap08"></a>CHAPTER VIII<br/> +THE DUKE ARRIVES</h2> + +<p> +The morning was gloomy, and the police-station with its bare, white-washed +walls—their white expanse was only broken by notice-boards to which were +pinned portraits of criminals with details of their appearance, their crime, +and the reward offered for their apprehension—with its shabby furniture, +and its dingy fireplace, presented a dismal and sordid appearance entirely in +keeping with the September grey. The inspector sat at his desk, yawning after a +night which had passed without an arrest. He was waiting to be relieved. The +policeman at the door and the two policemen sitting on a bench by the wall +yawned in sympathy. +</p> + +<p> +The silence of the street was broken by the rattle of an uncommonly noisy +motor-car. It stopped before the door of the police-station, and the eyes of +the inspector and his men turned, idly expectant, to the door of the office. +</p> + +<p> +It opened, and a young man in motor-coat and cap stood on the threshold. +</p> + +<p> +He looked round the office with alert eyes, which took in everything, and said, +in a brisk, incisive voice: “I am the Duke of Charmerace. I am here on +behalf of M. Gournay-Martin. Last evening he received a letter from Arsène +Lupin saying he was going to break into his Paris house this very +morning.” +</p> + +<p> +At the name of Arsène Lupin the inspector sprang from his chair, the policemen +from their bench. On the instant they were wide awake, attentive, full of zeal. +</p> + +<p> +“The letter, your Grace!” said the inspector briskly. +</p> + +<p> +The Duke pulled off his glove, drew the letter from the breast-pocket of his +under-coat, and handed it to the inspector. +</p> + +<p> +The inspector glanced through it, and said. “Yes, I know the handwriting +well.” Then he read it carefully, and added, “Yes, yes: it’s +his usual letter.” +</p> + +<p> +“There’s no time to be lost,” said the Duke quickly. “I +ought to have been here hours ago—hours. I had a break-down. I’m +afraid I’m too late as it is.” +</p> + +<p> +“Come along, your Grace—come along, you,” said the inspector +briskly. +</p> + +<p> +The four of them hurried out of the office and down the steps of the +police-station. In the roadway stood a long grey racing-car, caked with +muds—grey mud, brown mud, red mud—from end to end. It looked as if +it had brought samples of the soil of France from many districts. +</p> + +<p> +“Come along; I’ll take you in the car. Your men can trot along +beside us,” said the Duke to the inspector. +</p> + +<p> +He slipped into the car, the inspector jumped in and took the seat beside him, +and they started. They went slowly, to allow the two policemen to keep up with +them. Indeed, the car could not have made any great pace, for the tyre of the +off hind-wheel was punctured and deflated. +</p> + +<p> +In three minutes they came to the Gournay-Martin house, a wide-fronted mass of +undistinguished masonry, in an undistinguished row of exactly the same pattern. +There were no signs that any one was living in it. Blinds were drawn, shutters +were up over all the windows, upper and lower. No smoke came from any of its +chimneys, though indeed it was full early for that. +</p> + +<p> +Pulling a bunch of keys from his pocket, the Duke ran up the steps. The +inspector followed him. The Duke looked at the bunch, picked out the latch-key, +and fitted it into the lock. It did not open it. He drew it out and tried +another key and another. The door remained locked. +</p> + +<p> +“Let me, your Grace,” said the inspector. “I’m more +used to it. I shall be quicker.” +</p> + +<p> +The Duke handed the keys to him, and, one after another, the inspector fitted +them into the lock. It was useless. None of them opened the door. +</p> + +<p> +“They’ve given me the wrong keys,” said the Duke, with some +vexation. “Or no—stay—I see what’s happened. The keys +have been changed.” +</p> + +<p> +“Changed?” said the inspector. “When? Where?” +</p> + +<p> +“Last night at Charmerace,” said the Duke. “M. Gournay-Martin +declared that he saw a burglar slip out of one of the windows of the hall of +the château, and we found the lock of the bureau in which the keys were kept +broken.” +</p> + +<p> +The inspector seized the knocker, and hammered on the door. +</p> + +<p> +“Try that door there,” he cried to his men, pointing to a side-door +on the right, the tradesmen’s entrance, giving access to the back of the +house. It was locked. There came no sound of movement in the house in answer to +the inspector’s knocking. +</p> + +<p> +“Where’s the concierge?” he said. +</p> + +<p> +The Duke shrugged his shoulders. “There’s a housekeeper, +too—a woman named Victoire,” he said. “Let’s hope we +don’t find them with their throats cut.” +</p> + +<p> +“That isn’t Lupin’s way,” said the inspector. +“They won’t have come to much harm.” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s not very likely that they’ll be in a position to open +doors,” said the Duke drily. +</p> + +<p> +“Hadn’t we better have it broken open and be done with it?” +</p> + +<p> +The inspector hesitated. +</p> + +<p> +“People don’t like their doors broken open,” he said. +“And M. Gournay-Martin—” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I’ll take the responsibility of that,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, if you say so, your Grace,” said the inspector, with a brisk +relief. “Henri, go to Ragoneau, the locksmith in the Rue Theobald. Bring +him here as quickly as ever you can get him.” +</p> + +<p> +“Tell him it’s a couple of louis if he’s here inside of ten +minutes,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +The policeman hurried off. The inspector bent down and searched the steps +carefully. He searched the roadway. The Duke lighted a cigarette and watched +him. The house of the millionaire stood next but one to the corner of a street +which ran at right angles to the one in which it stood, and the corner house +was empty. The inspector searched the road, then he went round the corner. The +other policeman went along the road, searching in the opposite direction. The +Duke leant against the door and smoked on patiently. He showed none of the +weariness of a man who has spent the night in a long and anxious drive in a +rickety motor-car. His eyes were bright and clear; he looked as fresh as if he +had come from his bed after a long night’s rest. If he had not found the +South Pole, he had at any rate brought back fine powers of endurance from his +expedition in search of it. +</p> + +<p> +The inspector came back, wearing a disappointed air. +</p> + +<p> +“Have you found anything?” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing,” said the inspector. +</p> + +<p> +He came up the steps and hammered again on the door. No one answered his knock. +There was a clatter of footsteps, and Henri and the locksmith, a burly, bearded +man, his bag of tools slung over his shoulder, came hurrying up. He was not +long getting to work, but it was not an easy job. The lock was strong. At the +end of five minutes he said that he might spend an hour struggling with the +lock itself; should he cut away a piece of the door round it? +</p> + +<p> +“Cut away,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +The locksmith changed his tools, and in less than three minutes he had cut away +a square piece from the door, a square in which the lock was fixed, and taken +it bodily away. +</p> + +<p> +The door opened. The inspector drew his revolver, and entered the house. The +Duke followed him. The policemen drew their revolvers, and followed the Duke. +The big hall was but dimly lighted. One of the policemen quickly threw back the +shutters of the windows and let in the light. The hall was empty, the furniture +in perfect order; there were no signs of burglary there. +</p> + +<p> +“The concierge?” said the inspector, and his men hurried through +the little door on the right which opened into the concierge’s rooms. In +half a minute one of them came out and said: “Gagged and bound, and his +wife too.” +</p> + +<p> +“But the rooms which were to be plundered are upstairs,” said the +Duke—“the big drawing-rooms on the first floor. Come on; we may be +just in time. The scoundrels may not yet have got away.” +</p> + +<p> +He ran quickly up the stairs, followed by the inspector, and hurried along the +corridor to the door of the big drawing-room. He threw it open, and stopped +dead on the threshold. He had arrived too late. +</p> + +<p> +The room was in disorder. Chairs were overturned, there were empty spaces on +the wall where the finest pictures of the millionaire had been hung. The window +facing the door was wide open. The shutters were broken; one of them was +hanging crookedly from only its bottom hinge. The top of a ladder rose above +the window-sill, and beside it, astraddle the sill, was an Empire card-table, +half inside the room, half out. On the hearth-rug, before a large tapestry +fire-screen, which masked the wide fireplace, built in imitation of the big, +wide fireplaces of our ancestors, and rose to the level of the +chimney-piece—a magnificent chimney-piece in carved oak-were some chairs +tied together ready to be removed. +</p> + +<p> +The Duke and the inspector ran to the window, and looked down into the garden. +It was empty. At the further end of it, on the other side of its wall, rose the +scaffolding of a house a-building. The burglars had found every convenience to +their hand—a strong ladder, an egress through the door in the garden +wall, and then through the gap formed by the house in process of erection, +which had rendered them independent of the narrow passage between the walls of +the gardens, which debouched into a side-street on the right. +</p> + +<p> +The Duke turned from the window, glanced at the wall opposite, then, as if +something had caught his eye, went quickly to it. +</p> + +<p> +“Look here,” he said, and he pointed to the middle of one of the +empty spaces in which a picture had hung. +</p> + +<p> +There, written neatly in blue chalk, were the words: +</p> + +<p> +ARSÈNE LUPIN +</p> + +<p> +“This is a job for Guerchard,” said the inspector. “But I had +better get an examining magistrate to take the matter in hand first.” And +he ran to the telephone. +</p> + +<p> +The Duke opened the folding doors which led into the second drawing-room. The +shutters of the windows were open, and it was plain that Arsène Lupin had +plundered it also of everything that had struck his fancy. In the gaps between +the pictures on the walls was again the signature “Arsène Lupin.” +</p> + +<p> +The inspector was shouting impatiently into the telephone, bidding a servant +wake her master instantly. He did not leave the telephone till he was sure that +she had done so, that her master was actually awake, and had been informed of +the crime. The Duke sat down in an easy chair and waited for him. +</p> + +<p> +When he had finished telephoning, the inspector began to search the two rooms +for traces of the burglars. He found nothing, not even a finger-mark. +</p> + +<p> +When he had gone through the two rooms he said, “The next thing to do is +to find the house-keeper. She may be sleeping still—she may not even have +heard the noise of the burglars.” +</p> + +<p> +“I find all this extremely interesting,” said the Duke; and he +followed the inspector out of the room. +</p> + +<p> +The inspector called up the two policemen, who had been freeing the concierge +and going through the rooms on the ground-floor. They did not then examine any +more of the rooms on the first floor to discover if they also had been +plundered. They went straight up to the top of the house, the servants’ +quarters. +</p> + +<p> +The inspector called, “Victoire! Victoire!” two or three times; but +there was no answer. +</p> + +<p> +They opened the door of room after room and looked in, the inspector taking the +rooms on the right, the policemen the rooms on the left. +</p> + +<p> +“Here we are,” said one of the policemen. “This room’s +been recently occupied.” They looked in, and saw that the bed was unmade. +Plainly Victoire had slept in it. +</p> + +<p> +“Where can she be?” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“Be?” said the inspector. “I expect she’s with the +burglars—an accomplice.” +</p> + +<p> +“I gather that M. Gournay-Martin had the greatest confidence in +her,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“He’ll have less now,” said the inspector drily. +“It’s generally the confidential ones who let their masters +down.” +</p> + +<p> +The inspector and his men set about a thorough search of the house. They found +the other rooms undisturbed. In half an hour they had established the fact that +the burglars had confined their attention to the two drawing-rooms. They found +no traces of them; and they did not find Victoire. The concierge could throw no +light on her disappearance. He and his wife had been taken by surprise in their +sleep and in the dark. +</p> + +<p> +They had been gagged and bound, they declared, without so much as having set +eyes on their assailants. The Duke and the inspector came back to the plundered +drawing-room. +</p> + +<p> +The inspector looked at his watch and went to the telephone. +</p> + +<p> +“I must let the Prefecture know,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +“Be sure you ask them to send Guerchard,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“Guerchard?” said the inspector doubtfully. +</p> + +<p> +“M. Formery, the examining magistrate, does not get on very well with +Guerchard.” +</p> + +<p> +“What sort of a man is M. Formery? Is he capable?” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, yes—yes. He’s very capable,” said the inspector +quickly. “But he doesn’t have very good luck.” +</p> + +<p> +“M. Gournay-Martin particularly asked me to send for Guerchard if I +arrived too late, and found the burglary already committed,” said the +Duke. “It seems that there is war to the knife between Guerchard and this +Arsène Lupin. In that case Guerchard will leave no stone unturned to catch the +rascal and recover the stolen treasures. M. Gournay-Martin felt that Guerchard +was the man for this piece of work very strongly indeed.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very good, your Grace,” said the inspector. And he rang up the +Prefecture of Police. +</p> + +<p> +The Duke heard him report the crime and ask that Guerchard should be sent. The +official in charge at the moment seemed to make some demur. +</p> + +<p> +The Duke sprang to his feet, and said in an anxious tone, “Perhaps +I’d better speak to him myself.” +</p> + +<p> +He took his place at the telephone and said, “I am the Duke of +Charmerace. M. Gournay-Martin begged me to secure the services of M. Guerchard. +He laid the greatest stress on my securing them, if on reaching Paris I found +that the crime had already been committed.” +</p> + +<p> +The official at the other end of the line hesitated. He did not refuse on the +instant as he had refused the inspector. It may be that he reflected that M. +Gournay-Martin was a millionaire and a man of influence; that the Duke of +Charmerace was a Duke; that he, at any rate, had nothing whatever to gain by +running counter to their wishes. He said that Chief-Inspector Guerchard was not +at the Prefecture, that he was off duty; that he would send down two +detectives, who were on duty, at once, and summon Chief-Inspector Guerchard +with all speed. The Duke thanked him and rang off. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s all right,” he said cheerfully, turning to the +inspector. “What time will M. Formery be here?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I don’t expect him for another hour,” said the +inspector. “He won’t come till he’s had his breakfast. He +always makes a good breakfast before setting out to start an inquiry, lest he +shouldn’t find time to make one after he’s begun it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Breakfast—breakfast—that’s a great idea,” said +the Duke. “Now you come to remind me, I’m absolutely famished. I +got some supper on my way late last night; but I’ve had nothing since. I +suppose nothing interesting will happen till M. Formery comes; and I may as +well get some food. But I don’t want to leave the house. I think +I’ll see what the concierge can do for me.” +</p> + +<p> +So saying, he went downstairs and interviewed the concierge. The concierge +seemed to be still doubtful whether he was standing on his head or his heels, +but he undertook to supply the needs of the Duke. The Duke gave him a louis, +and he hurried off to get food from a restaurant. +</p> + +<p> +The Duke went upstairs to the bathroom and refreshed himself with a cold bath. +By the time he had bathed and dressed the concierge had a meal ready for him in +the dining-room. He ate it with the heartiest appetite. Then he sent out for a +barber and was shaved. +</p> + +<p> +He then repaired to the pillaged drawing-room, disposed himself in the most +restful attitude on a sofa, and lighted an excellent cigar. In the middle of it +the inspector came to him. He was not wearing a very cheerful air; and he told +the Duke that he had found no clue to the perpetrators of the crime, though M. +Dieusy and M. Bonavent, the detectives from the Prefecture of Police, had +joined him in the search. +</p> + +<p> +The Duke was condoling with him on this failure when they heard a knocking at +the front door, and then voices on the stairs. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! Here is M. Formery!” said the inspector cheerfully. “Now +we can get on.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap09"></a>CHAPTER IX<br/> +M. FORMERY OPENS THE INQUIRY</h2> + +<p> +The examining magistrate came into the room. He was a plump and pink little +man, with very bright eyes. His bristly hair stood up straight all over his +head, giving it the appearance of a broad, dapple-grey clothes-brush. He +appeared to be of the opinion that Nature had given the world the toothbrush as +a model of what a moustache should be; and his own was clipped to that pattern. +</p> + +<p> +“The Duke of Charmerace, M. Formery,” said the inspector. +</p> + +<p> +The little man bowed and said, “Charmed, charmed to make your +acquaintance, your Grace—though the occasion—the occasion is +somewhat painful. The treasures of M. Gournay-Martin are known to all the +world. France will deplore his losses.” He paused, and added hastily, +“But we shall recover them—we shall recover them.” +</p> + +<p> +The Duke rose, bowed, and protested his pleasure at making the acquaintance of +M. Formery. +</p> + +<p> +“Is this the scene of the robbery, inspector?” said M. Formery; and +he rubbed his hands together with a very cheerful air. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, sir,” said the inspector. “These two rooms seem to be +the only ones touched, though of course we can’t tell till M. +Gournay-Martin arrives. Jewels may have been stolen from the bedrooms.” +</p> + +<p> +“I fear that M. Gournay-Martin won’t be of much help for some +days,” said the Duke. “When I left him he was nearly distracted; +and he won’t be any better after a night journey to Paris from +Charmerace. But probably these are the only two rooms touched, for in them M. +Gournay-Martin had gathered together the gems of his collection. Over the doors +hung some pieces of Flemish tapestry—marvels—the composition +admirable—the colouring delightful.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is easy to see that your Grace was very fond of them,” said M. +Formery. +</p> + +<p> +“I should think so,” said the Duke. “I looked on them as +already belonging to me, for my father-in-law was going to give them to me as a +wedding present.” +</p> + +<p> +“A great loss—a great loss. But we will recover them, sooner or +later, you can rest assured of it. I hope you have touched nothing in this +room. If anything has been moved it may put me off the scent altogether. Let me +have the details, inspector.” +</p> + +<p> +The inspector reported the arrival of the Duke at the police-station with +Arsène Lupin’s letter to M. Gournay-Martin; the discovery that the keys +had been changed and would not open the door of the house; the opening of it by +the locksmith; the discovery of the concierge and his wife gagged and bound. +</p> + +<p> +“Probably accomplices,” said M. Formery. +</p> + +<p> +“Does Lupin always work with accomplices?” said the Duke. +“Pardon my ignorance—but I’ve been out of France for so +long—before he attained to this height of notoriety.” +</p> + +<p> +“Lupin—why Lupin?” said M. Formery sharply. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, there is the letter from Lupin which my future father-in-law +received last night; its arrival was followed by the theft of his two swiftest +motor-cars; and then, these signatures on the wall here,” said the Duke +in some surprise at the question. +</p> + +<p> +“Lupin! Lupin! Everybody has Lupin on the brain!” said M. Formery +impatiently. “I’m sick of hearing his name. This letter and these +signatures are just as likely to be forgeries as not.” +</p> + +<p> +“I wonder if Guerchard will take that view,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“Guerchard? Surely we’re not going to be cluttered up with +Guerchard. He has Lupin on the brain worse than any one else.” +</p> + +<p> +“But M. Gournay-Martin particularly asked me to send for Guerchard if I +arrived too late to prevent the burglary. He would never forgive me if I had +neglected his request: so I telephoned for him—to the Prefecture of +Police,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, well, if you’ve already telephoned for him. But it was +unnecessary—absolutely unnecessary,” said M. Formery sharply. +</p> + +<p> +“I didn’t know,” said the Duke politely. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, there was no harm in it—it doesn’t matter,” said +M. Formery in a discontented tone with a discontented air. +</p> + +<p> +He walked slowly round the room, paused by the windows, looked at the ladder, +and scanned the garden: +</p> + +<p> +“Arsène Lupin,” he said scornfully. “Arsène Lupin +doesn’t leave traces all over the place. There’s nothing but +traces. Are we going to have that silly Lupin joke all over again?” +</p> + +<p> +“I think, sir, that this time joke is the word, for this is a burglary +pure and simple,” said the inspector. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, it’s plain as daylight,” said M. Formery “The +burglars came in by this window, and they went out by it.” +</p> + +<p> +He crossed the room to a tall safe which stood before the unused door. The safe +was covered with velvet, and velvet curtains hung before its door. He drew the +curtains, and tried the handle of the door of the safe. It did not turn; the +safe was locked. +</p> + +<p> +“As far as I can see, they haven’t touched this,” said M. +Formery. +</p> + +<p> +“Thank goodness for that,” said the Duke. “I believe, or at +least my fiancée does, that M. Gournay-Martin keeps the most precious thing in +his collection in that safe—the coronet.” +</p> + +<p> +“What! the famous coronet of the Princesse de Lamballe?” said M. +Formery. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“But according to your report, inspector, the letter signed +‘Lupin’ announced that he was going to steal the coronet +also.” +</p> + +<p> +“It did—in so many words,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, here is a further proof that we’re not dealing with Lupin. +That rascal would certainly have put his threat into execution, M. +Formery,” said the inspector. +</p> + +<p> +“Who’s in charge of the house?” said M. Formery. +</p> + +<p> +“The concierge, his wife, and a housekeeper—a woman named +Victoire,” said the inspector. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll see to the concierge and his wife presently. I’ve sent +one of your men round for their dossier. When I get it I’ll question +them. You found them gagged and bound in their bedroom?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, M. Formery; and always this imitation of Lupin—a yellow gag, +blue cords, and the motto, ‘I take, therefore I am,’ on a scrap of +cardboard—his usual bag of tricks.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then once again they’re going to touch us up in the papers. +It’s any odds on it,” said M. Formery gloomily. +“Where’s the housekeeper? I should like to see her.” +</p> + +<p> +“The fact is, we don’t know where she is,” said the +inspector. +</p> + +<p> +“You don’t know where she is?” said M. Formery. +</p> + +<p> +“We can’t find her anywhere,” said the inspector. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s excellent, excellent. We’ve found the +accomplice,” said M. Formery with lively delight; and he rubbed his hands +together. “At least, we haven’t found her, but we know her.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t think that’s the case,” said the Duke. +“At least, my future father-in-law and my fiancée had both of them the +greatest confidence in her. Yesterday she telephoned to us at the château de +Charmerace. All the jewels were left in her charge, and the wedding presents as +they were sent in.” +</p> + +<p> +“And these jewels and wedding presents—have they been stolen +too?” said M. Formery. +</p> + +<p> +“They don’t seem to have been touched,” said the Duke, +“though of course we can’t tell till M. Gournay-Martin arrives. As +far as I can see, the burglars have only touched these two +drawing-rooms.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s very annoying,” said M. Formery. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t find it so,” said the Duke, smiling. +</p> + +<p> +“I was looking at it from the professional point of view,” said M. +Formery. He turned to the inspector and added, “You can’t have +searched thoroughly. This housekeeper must be somewhere about—if +she’s really trustworthy. Have you looked in every room in the +house?” +</p> + +<p> +“In every room—under every bed—in every corner and every +cupboard,” said the inspector. +</p> + +<p> +“Bother!” said M. Formery. “Are there no scraps of torn +clothes, no blood-stains, no traces of murder, nothing of interest?” +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing!” said the inspector. +</p> + +<p> +“But this is very regrettable,” said M. Formery. “Where did +she sleep? Was her bed unmade?” +</p> + +<p> +“Her room is at the top of the house,” said the inspector. +“The bed had been slept in, but she does not appear to have taken away +any of her clothes.” +</p> + +<p> +“Extraordinary! This is beginning to look a very complicated +business,” said M. Formery gravely. +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps Guerchard will be able to throw a little more light on +it,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +M. Formery frowned and said, “Yes, yes. Guerchard is a good assistant in +a business like this. A little visionary, a little fanciful—wrong-headed, +in fact; but, after all, he IS Guerchard. Only, since Lupin is his bugbear, +he’s bound to find some means of muddling us up with that wretched +animal. You’re going to see Lupin mixed up with all this to a dead +certainty, your Grace.” +</p> + +<p> +The Duke looked at the signatures on the wall. “It seems to me that he is +pretty well mixed up with it already,” he said quietly. +</p> + +<p> +“Believe me, your Grace, in a criminal affair it is, above all things, +necessary to distrust appearances. I am growing more and more confident that +some ordinary burglars have committed this crime and are trying to put us off +the scent by diverting our attention to Lupin.” +</p> + +<p> +The Duke stooped down carelessly and picked up a book which had fallen from a +table. +</p> + +<p> +“Excuse me, but please—please—do not touch anything,” +said M. Formery quickly. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, this is odd,” said the Duke, staring at the floor. +</p> + +<p> +“What is odd?” said M. Formery. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, this book looks as if it had been knocked off the table by one of +the burglars. And look here; here’s a footprint under it—a +footprint on the carpet,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +M. Formery and the inspector came quickly to the spot. There, where the book +had fallen, plainly imprinted on the carpet, was a white footprint. M. Formery +and the inspector stared at it. +</p> + +<p> +“It looks like plaster. How did plaster get here?” said M. Formery, +frowning at it. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, suppose the robbers came from the garden,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“Of course they came from the garden, your Grace. Where else should they +come from?” said M. Formery, with a touch of impatience in his tone. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, at the end of the garden they’re building a house,” +said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“Of course, of course,” said M. Formery, taking him up quickly. +“The burglars came here with their boots covered with plaster. +They’ve swept away all the other marks of their feet from the carpet; but +whoever did the sweeping was too slack to lift up that book and sweep under it. +This footprint, however, is not of great importance, though it is corroborative +of all the other evidence we have that they came and went by the garden. +There’s the ladder, and that table half out of the window. Still, this +footprint may turn out useful, after all. You had better take the measurements +of it, inspector. Here’s a foot-rule for you. I make a point of carrying +this foot-rule about with me, your Grace. You would be surprised to learn how +often it has come in useful.” +</p> + +<p> +He took a little ivory foot-rule from his waist-coat pocket, and gave it to the +inspector, who fell on his knees and measured the footprint with the greatest +care. +</p> + +<p> +“I must take a careful look at that house they’re building. I shall +find a good many traces there, to a dead certainty,” said M. Formery. +</p> + +<p> +The inspector entered the measurements of the footprint in his note-book. There +came the sound of a knocking at the front door. +</p> + +<p> +“I shall find footprints of exactly the same dimensions as this one at +the foot of some heap of plaster beside that house,” said M. Formery; +with an air of profound conviction, pointing through the window to the house +building beyond the garden. +</p> + +<p> +A policeman opened the door of the drawing-room and saluted. +</p> + +<p> +“If you please, sir, the servants have arrived from Charmerace,” he +said. +</p> + +<p> +“Let them wait in the kitchen and the servants’ offices,” +said M. Formery. He stood silent, buried in profound meditation, for a couple +of minutes. Then he turned to the Duke and said, “What was that you said +about a theft of motor-cars at Charmerace?” +</p> + +<p> +“When he received the letter from Arsène Lupin, M. Gournay-Martin decided +to start for Paris at once,” said the Duke. “But when we sent for +the cars we found that they had just been stolen. M. Gournay-Martin’s +chauffeur and another servant were in the garage gagged and bound. Only an old +car, a hundred horse-power Mercrac, was left. I drove it to Paris, leaving M. +Gournay-Martin and his family to come on by train.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very important—very important indeed,” said M. Formery. He +thought for a moment, and then added. “Were the motor-cars the only +things stolen? Were there no other thefts?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, as a matter of fact, there was another theft, or rather an attempt +at theft,” said the Duke with some hesitation. “The rogues who +stole the motor-cars presented themselves at the château under the name of +Charolais—a father and three sons—on the pretext of buying the +hundred-horse-power Mercrac. M. Gournay-Martin had advertised it for sale in +the Rennes Advertiser. They were waiting in the big hall of the château, which +the family uses as the chief living-room, for the return of M. Gournay-Martin. +He came; and as they left the hall one of them attempted to steal a pendant set +with pearls which I had given to Mademoiselle Gournay-Martin half an hour +before. I caught him in the act and saved the pendant.” +</p> + +<p> +“Good! good! Wait—we have one of the gang—wait till I +question him,” said M. Formery, rubbing his hands; and his eyes sparkled +with joy. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, no; I’m afraid we haven’t,” said the Duke in an +apologetic tone. +</p> + +<p> +“What! We haven’t? Has he escaped from the police? Oh, those +country police!” cried M. Formery. +</p> + +<p> +“No; I didn’t charge him with the theft,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“You didn’t charge him with the theft?” cried M. Formery, +astounded. +</p> + +<p> +“No; he was very young and he begged so hard. I had the pendant. I let +him go,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, your Grace, your Grace! Your duty to society!” cried M. +Formery. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, it does seem to have been rather weak,” said the Duke; +“but there you are. It’s no good crying over spilt milk.” +</p> + +<p> +M. Formery folded his arms and walked, frowning, backwards and forwards across +the room. +</p> + +<p> +He stopped, raised his hand with a gesture commanding attention, and said, +“I have no hesitation in saying that there is a connection—an +intimate connection—between the thefts at Charmerace and this +burglary!” +</p> + +<p> +The Duke and the inspector gazed at him with respectful eyes—at least, +the eyes of the inspector were respectful; the Duke’s eyes twinkled. +</p> + +<p> +“I am gathering up the threads,” said M. Formery. “Inspector, +bring up the concierge and his wife. I will question them on the scene of the +crime. Their dossier should be here. If it is, bring it up with them; if not, +no matter; bring them up without it.” +</p> + +<p> +The inspector left the drawing-room. M. Formery plunged at once into frowning +meditation. +</p> + +<p> +“I find all this extremely interesting,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“Charmed! Charmed!” said M. Formery, waving his hand with an +absent-minded air. +</p> + +<p> +The inspector entered the drawing-room followed by the concierge and his wife. +He handed a paper to M. Formery. The concierge, a bearded man of about sixty, +and his wife, a somewhat bearded woman of about fifty-five, stared at M. +Formery with fascinated, terrified eyes. He sat down in a chair, crossed his +legs, read the paper through, and then scrutinized them keenly. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, have you recovered from your adventure?” he said. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, yes, sir,” said the concierge. “They hustled us a bit, +but they did not really hurt us.” +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing to speak of, that is,” said his wife. “But all the +same, it’s a disgraceful thing that an honest woman can’t sleep in +peace in her bed of a night without being disturbed by rascals like that. And +if the police did their duty things like this wouldn’t happen. And I +don’t care who hears me say it.” +</p> + +<p> +“You say that you were taken by surprise in your sleep?” said M. +Formery. “You say you saw nothing, and heard nothing?” +</p> + +<p> +“There was no time to see anything or hear anything. They trussed us up +like greased lightning,” said the concierge. +</p> + +<p> +“But the gag was the worst,” said the wife. “To lie there and +not be able to tell the rascals what I thought about them!” +</p> + +<p> +“Didn’t you hear the noise of footsteps in the garden?” said +M. Formery. +</p> + +<p> +“One can’t hear anything that happens in the garden from our +bedroom,” said the concierge. +</p> + +<p> +“Even the night when Mlle. Germaine’s great Dane barked from twelve +o’clock till seven in the morning, all the household was kept awake +except us; but bless you, sir, we slept like tops,” said his wife +proudly. +</p> + +<p> +“If they sleep like that it seems rather a waste of time to have gagged +them,” whispered the Duke to the inspector. +</p> + +<p> +The inspector grinned, and whispered scornfully, “Oh, them common folks; +they do sleep like that, your Grace.” +</p> + +<p> +“Didn’t you hear any noise at the front door?” said M. +Formery. +</p> + +<p> +“No, we heard no noise at the door,” said the concierge. +</p> + +<p> +“Then you heard no noise at all the whole night?” said M. Formery. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, yes, sir, we heard noise enough after we’d been gagged,” +said the concierge. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, this is important,” said M. Formery. “What kind of a +noise was it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, it was a bumping kind of noise,” said the concierge. +“And there was a noise of footsteps, walking about the room.” +</p> + +<p> +“What room? Where did these noises come from?” said M. Formery. +</p> + +<p> +“From the room over our heads—the big drawing-room,” said the +concierge. +</p> + +<p> +“Didn’t you hear any noise of a struggle, as if somebody was being +dragged about—no screaming or crying?” said M. Formery. +</p> + +<p> +The concierge and his wife looked at one another with inquiring eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“No, I didn’t,” said the concierge. +</p> + +<p> +“Neither did I,” said his wife. +</p> + +<p> +M. Formery paused. Then he said, “How long have you been in the service +of M. Gournay-Martin?” +</p> + +<p> +“A little more than a year,” said the concierge. +</p> + +<p> +M. Formery looked at the paper in his hand, frowned, and said severely, +“I see you’ve been convicted twice, my man.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, sir, but—” +</p> + +<p> +“My husband’s an honest man, sir—perfectly honest,” +broke in his wife. “You’ve only to ask M. Gournay-Martin; +he’ll—” +</p> + +<p> +“Be so good as to keep quiet, my good woman,” said M. Formery; and, +turning to her husband, he went on: “At your first conviction you were +sentenced to a day’s imprisonment with costs; at your second conviction +you got three days’ imprisonment.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m not going to deny it, sir,” said the concierge; +“but it was an honourable imprisonment.” +</p> + +<p> +“Honourable?” said M. Formery. +</p> + +<p> +“The first time, I was a gentleman’s servant, and I got a +day’s imprisonment for crying, ‘Hurrah for the General +Strike!’—on the first of May.” +</p> + +<p> +“You were a valet? In whose service?” said M. Formery. +</p> + +<p> +“In the service of M. Genlis, the Socialist leader.” +</p> + +<p> +“And your second conviction?” said M. Formery. +</p> + +<p> +“It was for having cried in the porch of Ste. Clotilde, ‘Down with +the cows!’—meaning the police, sir,” said the concierge. +</p> + +<p> +“And were you in the service of M. Genlis then?” said M. Formery. +</p> + +<p> +“No, sir; I was in the service of M. Bussy-Rabutin, the Royalist +deputy.” +</p> + +<p> +“You don’t seem to have very well-defined political +convictions,” said M. Formery. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, yes, sir, I have,” the concierge protested. “I’m +always devoted to my masters; and I have the same opinions that they +have—always.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very good; you can go,” said M. Formery. +</p> + +<p> +The concierge and his wife left the room, looking as if they did not quite know +whether to feel relieved or not. +</p> + +<p> +“Those two fools are telling the exact truth, unless I’m very much +mistaken,” said M. Formery. +</p> + +<p> +“They look honest enough people,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, now to examine the rest of the house,” said M. Formery. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll come with you, if I may,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“By all means, by all means,” said M. Formery. +</p> + +<p> +“I find it all so interesting,” said the Duke, +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap10"></a>CHAPTER X<br/> +GUERCHARD ASSISTS</h2> + +<p> +Leaving a policeman on guard at the door of the drawing-room M. Formery, the +Duke, and the inspector set out on their tour of inspection. It was a long +business, for M. Formery examined every room with the most scrupulous +care—with more care, indeed, than he had displayed in his examination of +the drawing-rooms. In particular he lingered long in the bedroom of Victoire, +discussing the possibilities of her having been murdered and carried away by +the burglars along with their booty. He seemed, if anything, disappointed at +finding no blood-stains, but to find real consolation in the thought that she +might have been strangled. He found the inspector in entire agreement with +every theory he enunciated, and he grew more and more disposed to regard him as +a zealous and trustworthy officer. Also he was not at all displeased at +enjoying this opportunity of impressing the Duke with his powers of analysis +and synthesis. He was unaware that, as a rule, the Duke’s eyes did not +usually twinkle as they twinkled during this solemn and deliberate progress +through the house of M. Gournay-Martin. M. Formery had so exactly the air of a +sleuthhound; and he was even noisier. +</p> + +<p> +Having made this thorough examination of the house, M. Formery went out into +the garden and set about examining that. There were footprints on the turf +about the foot of the ladder, for the grass was close-clipped, and the rain had +penetrated and softened the soil; but there were hardly as many footprints as +might have been expected, seeing that the burglars must have made many journeys +in the course of robbing the drawing-rooms of so many objects of art, some of +them of considerable weight. The footprints led to a path of hard gravel; and +M. Formery led the way down it, out of the door in the wall at the bottom of +the garden, and into the space round the house which was being built. +</p> + +<p> +As M. Formery had divined, there was a heap, or, to be exact, there were +several heaps of plaster about the bottom of the scaffolding. Unfortunately, +there were also hundreds of footprints. M. Formery looked at them with longing +eyes; but he did not suggest that the inspector should hunt about for a set of +footprints of the size of the one he had so carefully measured on the +drawing-room carpet. +</p> + +<p> +While they were examining the ground round the half-built house a man came +briskly down the stairs from the second floor of the house of M. +Gournay-Martin. He was an ordinary-looking man, almost insignificant, of +between forty and fifty, and of rather more than middle height. He had an +ordinary, rather shapeless mouth, an ordinary nose, an ordinary chin, an +ordinary forehead, rather low, and ordinary ears. He was wearing an ordinary +top-hat, by no means new. His clothes were the ordinary clothes of a fairly +well-to-do citizen; and his boots had been chosen less to set off any +slenderness his feet might possess than for their comfortable roominess. Only +his eyes relieved his face from insignificance. They were extraordinarily alert +eyes, producing in those on whom they rested the somewhat uncomfortable +impression that the depths of their souls were being penetrated. He was the +famous Chief-Inspector Guerchard, head of the Detective Department of the +Prefecture of Police, and sworn foe of Arsène Lupin. +</p> + +<p> +The policeman at the door of the drawing-room saluted him briskly. He was a +fine, upstanding, red-faced young fellow, adorned by a rich black moustache of +extraordinary fierceness. +</p> + +<p> +“Shall I go and inform M. Formery that you have come, M. +Guerchard?” he said. +</p> + +<p> +“No, no; there’s no need to take the trouble,” said Guerchard +in a gentle, rather husky voice. “Don’t bother any one about +me—I’m of no importance.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, come, M. Guerchard,” protested the policeman. +</p> + +<p> +“Of no importance,” said M. Guerchard decisively. “For the +present, M. Formery is everything. I’m only an assistant.” +</p> + +<p> +He stepped into the drawing-room and stood looking about it, curiously still. +It was almost as if the whole of his being was concentrated in the act of +seeing—as if all the other functions of his mind and body were in +suspension. +</p> + +<p> +“M. Formery and the inspector have just been up to examine the +housekeeper’s room. It’s right at the top of the house—on the +second floor. You take the servants’ staircase. Then it’s right at +the end of the passage on the left. Would you like me to take you up to it, +sir?” said the policeman eagerly. His heart was in his work. +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you, I know where it is—I’ve just come from it,” +said Guerchard gently. +</p> + +<p> +A grin of admiration widened the already wide mouth of the policeman, and +showed a row of very white, able-looking teeth. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, M. Guerchard!” he said, “you’re cleverer than all +the examining magistrates in Paris put together!” +</p> + +<p> +“You ought not to say that, my good fellow. I can’t prevent you +thinking it, of course; but you ought not to say it,” said Guerchard with +husky gentleness; and the faintest smile played round the corners of his mouth. +</p> + +<p> +He walked slowly to the window, and the policeman walked with him. +</p> + +<p> +“Have you noticed this, sir?” said the policeman, taking hold of +the top of the ladder with a powerful hand. “It’s probable that the +burglars came in and went away by this ladder.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you,” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“They have even left this card-table on the window-sill,” said the +policeman; and he patted the card-table with his other powerful hand. +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you, thank you,” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“They don’t think it’s Lupin’s work at all,” said +the policeman. “They think that Lupin’s letter announcing the +burglary and these signatures on the walls are only a ruse.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is that so?” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Is there any way I can help you, sir?” said policeman. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said Guerchard. “Take up your post outside that door +and admit no one but M. Formery, the inspector, Bonavent, or Dieusy, without +consulting me.” And he pointed to the drawing-room door. +</p> + +<p> +“Shan’t I admit the Duke of Charmerace? He’s taking a great +interest in this affair,” said the policeman. +</p> + +<p> +“The Duke of Charmerace? Oh, yes—admit the Duke of +Charmerace,” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +The policeman went to his post of responsibility, a proud man. +</p> + +<p> +Hardly had the door closed behind him when Guerchard was all +activity—activity and eyes. He examined the ladder, the gaps on the wall +from which the pictures had been taken, the signatures of Arsène Lupin. The +very next thing he did was to pick up the book which the Duke had set on the +top of the footprint again, to preserve it; and he measured, pacing it, the +distance between the footprint and the window. +</p> + +<p> +The result of this measuring did not appear to cause him any satisfaction, for +he frowned, measured the distance again, and then stared out of the window with +a perplexed air, thinking hard. It was curious that, when he concentrated +himself on a process of reasoning, his eves seemed to lose something of their +sharp brightness and grew a little dim. +</p> + +<p> +At last he seemed to come to some conclusion. He turned away from the window, +drew a small magnifying-glass from his pocket, dropped on his hands and knees, +and began to examine the surface of the carpet with the most minute care. +</p> + +<p> +He examined a space of it nearly six feet square, stopped, and gazed round the +room. His eyes rested on the fireplace, which he could see under the bottom of +the big tapestried fire-screen which was raised on legs about a foot high, +fitted with big casters. His eyes filled with interest; without rising, he +crawled quickly across the room, peeped round the edge of the screen and rose, +smiling. +</p> + +<p> +He went on to the further drawing-room and made the same careful examination of +it, again examining a part of the surface of the carpet with his +magnifying-glass. He came back to the window to which the ladder had been +raised and examined very carefully the broken shutter. He whistled softly to +himself, lighted a cigarette, and leant against the side of the window. He +looked out of it, with dull eyes which saw nothing, the while his mind worked +upon the facts he had discovered. +</p> + +<p> +He had stood there plunged in reflection for perhaps ten minutes, when there +came a sound of voices and footsteps on the stairs. He awoke from his +absorption, seemed to prick his ears, then slipped a leg over the window-ledge, +and disappeared from sight down the ladder. +</p> + +<p> +The door opened, and in came M. Formery, the Duke, and the inspector. M. +Formery looked round the room with eyes which seemed to expect to meet a +familiar sight, then walked to the other drawing-room and looked round that. He +turned to the policeman, who had stepped inside the drawing-room, and said +sharply, “M. Guerchard is not here.” +</p> + +<p> +“I left him here,” said the policeman. “He must have +disappeared. He’s a wonder.” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course,” said M. Formery. “He has gone down the ladder to +examine that house they’re building. He’s just following in our +tracks and doing all over again the work we’ve already done. He might +have saved himself the trouble. We could have told him all he wants to know. +But there! He very likely would not be satisfied till he had seen everything +for himself.” +</p> + +<p> +“He may see something which we have missed,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +M. Formery frowned, and said sharply “That’s hardly likely. I +don’t think that your Grace realizes to what a perfection constant +practice brings one’s power of observation. The inspector and I will +cheerfully eat anything we’ve missed—won’t we, +inspector?” And he laughed heartily at his joke. +</p> + +<p> +“It might always prove a large mouthful,” said the Duke with an +ironical smile. +</p> + +<p> +M. Formery assumed his air of profound reflection, and walked a few steps up +and down the room, frowning: +</p> + +<p> +“The more I think about it,” he said, “the clearer it grows +that we have disposed of the Lupin theory. This is the work of far less expert +rogues than Lupin. What do you think, inspector?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; I think you have disposed of that theory, sir,” said the +inspector with ready acquiescence. +</p> + +<p> +“All the same, I’d wager anything that we haven’t disposed of +it to the satisfaction of Guerchard,” said M. Formery. +</p> + +<p> +“Then he must be very hard to satisfy,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, in any other matter he’s open to reason,” said M. +Formery; “but Lupin is his fixed idea; it’s an +obsession—almost a mania.” +</p> + +<p> +“But yet he never catches him,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“No; and he never will. His very obsession by Lupin hampers him. It +cramps his mind and hinders its working,” said M. Formery. +</p> + +<p> +He resumed his meditative pacing, stopped again, and said: +</p> + +<p> +“But considering everything, especially the absence of any traces of +violence, combined with her entire disappearance, I have come to another +conclusion. Victoire is the key to the mystery. She is the accomplice. She +never slept in her bed. She unmade it to put us off the scent. That, at any +rate, is something gained, to have found the accomplice. We shall have this +good news, at least, to tell M, Gournay-Martin on his arrival.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you really think that she’s the accomplice?” said the +Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m dead sure of it,” said M. Formery. “We will go up +to her room and make another thorough examination of it.” +</p> + +<p> +Guerchard’s head popped up above the window-sill: +</p> + +<p> +“My dear M. Formery,” he said, “I beg that you will not take +the trouble.” +</p> + +<p> +M. Formery’s mouth opened: “What! You, Guerchard?” he +stammered. +</p> + +<p> +“Myself,” said Guerchard; and he came to the top of the ladder and +slipped lightly over the window-sill into the room. +</p> + +<p> +He shook hands with M. Formery and nodded to the inspector. Then he looked at +the Duke with an air of inquiry. +</p> + +<p> +“Let me introduce you,” said M. Formery. “Chief-Inspector +Guerchard, head of the Detective Department—the Duke of +Charmerace.” +</p> + +<p> +The Duke shook hands with Guerchard, saying, “I’m delighted to make +your acquaintance, M. Guerchard. I’ve been expecting your coming with the +greatest interest. Indeed it was I who begged the officials at the Prefecture +of Police to put this case in your hands. I insisted on it.” +</p> + +<p> +“What were you doing on that ladder?” said M. Formery, giving +Guerchard no time to reply to the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“I was listening,” said Guerchard simply—“listening. I +like to hear people talk when I’m engaged on a case. It’s a +distraction—and it helps. I really must congratulate you, my dear M. +Formery, on the admirable manner in which you have conducted this +inquiry.” +</p> + +<p> +M. Formery bowed, and regarded him with a touch of suspicion. +</p> + +<p> +“There are one or two minor points on which we do not agree, but on the +whole your method has been admirable,” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, about Victoire,” said M. Formery. “You’re quite +sure that an examination, a more thorough examination, of her room, is +unnecessary?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I think so,” said Guerchard. “I have just looked at it +myself.” +</p> + +<p> +The door opened, and in came Bonavent, one of the detectives who had come +earlier from the Prefecture. In his hand he carried a scrap of cloth. +</p> + +<p> +He saluted Guerchard, and said to M. Formery, “I have just found this +scrap of cloth on the edge of the well at the bottom of the garden. The +concierge’s wife tells me that it has been torn from Victoire’s +dress.” +</p> + +<p> +“I feared it,” said M. Formery, taking the scrap of cloth from him. +“I feared foul play. We must go to the well at once, send some one down +it, or have it dragged.” +</p> + +<p> +He was moving hastily to the door, when Guerchard said, in his husky, gentle +voice, “I don’t think there is any need to look for Victoire in the +well.” +</p> + +<p> +“But this scrap of cloth,” said M. Formery, holding it out to him. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, yes, that scrap of cloth,” said Guerchard. And, turning to +the Duke, he added, “Do you know if there’s a dog or cat in the +house, your Grace? I suppose that, as the fiance of Mademoiselle +Gournay-Martin, you are familiar with the house?” +</p> + +<p> +“What on earth—” said M. Formery. +</p> + +<p> +“Excuse me,” interrupted Guerchard. “But this is +important—very important.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, there is a cat,” said the Duke. “I’ve seen a cat +at the door of the concierge’s rooms.” +</p> + +<p> +“It must have been that cat which took this scrap of cloth to the edge of +the well,” said Guerchard gravely. +</p> + +<p> +“This is ridiculous—preposterous!” cried M. Formery, +beginning to flush. “Here we’re dealing with a most serious +crime—a murder—the murder of Victoire—and you talk about +cats!” +</p> + +<p> +“Victoire has not been murdered,” said Guerchard; and his husky +voice was gentler than ever, only just audible. +</p> + +<p> +“But we don’t know that—we know nothing of the kind,” +said M. Formery. +</p> + +<p> +“I do,” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“You?” said M. Formery. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Then how do you explain her disappearance?” +</p> + +<p> +“If she had disappeared I shouldn’t explain it,” said +Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“But since she has disappeared?” cried M. Formery, in a tone of +exasperation. +</p> + +<p> +“She hasn’t,” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“You know nothing about it!” cried M. Formery, losing his temper. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I do,” said Guerchard, with the same gentleness. +</p> + +<p> +“Come, do you mean to say that you know where she is?” cried M. +Formery. +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly,” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you mean to tell us straight out that you’ve seen her?” +cried M. Formery. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, yes; I’ve seen her,” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“You’ve seen her—when?” cried M. Formery. +</p> + +<p> +Guerchard paused to consider. Then he said gently: +</p> + +<p> +“It must have been between four and five minutes ago.” +</p> + +<p> +“But hang it all, you haven’t been out of this room!” cried +M. Formery. +</p> + +<p> +“No, I haven’t,” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“And you’ve seen her?” cried M. Formery. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said Guerchard, raising his voice a little. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, why the devil don’t you tell us where she is? Tell +us!” cried M. Formery, purple with exasperation. +</p> + +<p> +“But you won’t let me get a word out of my mouth,” protested +Guerchard with aggravating gentleness. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, speak!” cried M. Formery; and he sank gasping on to a chair. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, well, she’s here,” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Here! How did she GET here?” said M. Formery. +</p> + +<p> +“On a mattress,” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +M. Formery sat upright, almost beside himself, glaring furiously at Guerchard: +</p> + +<p> +“What do you stand there pulling all our legs for?” he almost +howled. +</p> + +<p> +“Look here,” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +He walked across the room to the fireplace, pushed the chairs which stood bound +together on the hearth-rug to one side of the fireplace, and ran the heavy +fire-screen on its casters to the other side of it, revealing to their gaze the +wide, old-fashioned fireplace itself. The iron brazier which held the coals had +been moved into the corner, and a mattress lay on the floor of the fireplace. +On the mattress lay the figure of a big, middle-aged woman, half-dressed. There +was a yellow gag in her mouth; and her hands and feet were bound together with +blue cords. +</p> + +<p> +“She is sleeping soundly,” said Guerchard. He stooped and picked up +a handkerchief, and smelt it. “There’s the handkerchief they +chloroformed her with. It still smells of chloroform.” +</p> + +<p> +They stared at him and the sleeping woman. +</p> + +<p> +“Lend a hand, inspector,” he said. “And you too, Bonavent. +She looks a good weight.” +</p> + +<p> +The three of them raised the mattress, and carried it and the sleeping woman to +a broad couch, and laid them on it. They staggered under their burden, for +truly Victoire was a good weight. +</p> + +<p> +M. Formery rose, with recovered breath, but with his face an even richer +purple. His eyes were rolling in his head, as if they were not under proper +control. +</p> + +<p> +He turned on the inspector and cried savagely, “You never examined the +fireplace, inspector!” +</p> + +<p> +“No, sir,” said the downcast inspector. +</p> + +<p> +“It was unpardonable—absolutely unpardonable!” cried M. +Formery. “How is one to work with subordinates like this?” +</p> + +<p> +“It was an oversight,” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +M. Formery turned to him and said, “You must admit that it was materially +impossible for me to see her.” +</p> + +<p> +“It was possible if you went down on all fours,” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“On all fours?” said M. Formery. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; on all fours you could see her heels sticking out beyond the +mattress,” said Guerchard simply. +</p> + +<p> +M. Formery shrugged his shoulders: “That screen looked as if it had stood +there since the beginning of the summer,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +“The first thing, when you’re dealing with Lupin, is to distrust +appearances,” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Lupin!” cried M. Formery hotly. Then he bit his lip and was +silent. +</p> + +<p> +He walked to the side of the couch and looked down on the sleeping Victoire, +frowning: “This upsets everything,” he said. “With these new +conditions, I’ve got to begin all over again, to find a new explanation +of the affair. For the moment—for the moment, I’m thrown completely +off the track. And you, Guerchard?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, well,” said Guerchard, “I have an idea or two about the +matter still.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you really mean to say that it hasn’t thrown you off the track +too?” said M. Formery, with a touch of incredulity in his tone. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, no—not exactly,” said Guerchard. “I wasn’t +on that track, you see.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, of course not—of course not. You were on the track of +Lupin,” said M. Formery; and his contemptuous smile was tinged with +malice. +</p> + +<p> +The Duke looked from one to the other of them with curious, searching eyes: +“I find all this so interesting,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +“We do not take much notice of these checks; they do not depress us for a +moment,” said M. Formery, with some return of his old grandiloquence. +“We pause hardly for an instant; then we begin to reconstruct—to +reconstruct.” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s perfectly splendid of you,” said the Duke, and his +limpid eyes rested on M. Formery’s self-satisfied face in a really +affectionate gaze; they might almost be said to caress it. +</p> + +<p> +Guerchard looked out of the window at a man who was carrying a hod-full of +bricks up one of the ladders set against the scaffolding of the building house. +Something in this honest workman’s simple task seemed to amuse him, for +he smiled. +</p> + +<p> +Only the inspector, thinking of the unexamined fireplace, looked really +depressed. +</p> + +<p> +“We shan’t get anything out of this woman till she wakes,” +said M. Formery, “When she does, I shall question her closely and fully. +In the meantime, she may as well be carried up to her bedroom to sleep off the +effects of the chloroform.” +</p> + +<p> +Guerchard turned quickly: “Not her own bedroom, I think,” he said +gently. +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly not—of course, not her own bedroom,” said M. +Formery quickly. +</p> + +<p> +“And I think an officer at the door of whatever bedroom she does sleep +in,” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Undoubtedly—most necessary,” said M. Formery gravely. +“See to it, inspector. You can take her away.” +</p> + +<p> +The inspector called in a couple of policemen, and with their aid he and +Bonavent raised the sleeping woman, a man at each corner of the mattress, and +bore her from the room. +</p> + +<p> +“And now to reconstruct,” said M. Formery; and he folded his arms +and plunged into profound reflection. +</p> + +<p> +The Duke and Guerchard watched him in silence. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap11"></a>CHAPTER XI<br/> +THE FAMILY ARRIVES</h2> + +<p> +In carrying out Victoire, the inspector had left the door of the drawing-room +open. After he had watched M. Formery reflect for two minutes, Guerchard +faded—to use an expressive Americanism—through it. The Duke felt in +the breast-pocket of his coat, murmured softly, “My cigarettes,” +and followed him. +</p> + +<p> +He caught up Guerchard on the stairs and said, “I will come with you, if +I may, M. Guerchard. I find all these investigations extraordinarily +interesting. I have been observing M. Formery’s methods—I should +like to watch yours, for a change.” +</p> + +<p> +“By all means,” said Guerchard. “And there are several things +I want to hear about from your Grace. Of course it might be an advantage to +discuss them together with M. Formery, but—” and he hesitated. +</p> + +<p> +“It would be a pity to disturb M. Formery in the middle of the process of +reconstruction,” said the Duke; and a faint, ironical smile played round +the corners of his sensitive lips. +</p> + +<p> +Guerchard looked at him quickly: “Perhaps it would,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +They went through the house, out of the back door, and into the garden. +Guerchard moved about twenty yards from the house, then he stopped and +questioned the Duke at great length. He questioned him first about the +Charolais, their appearance, their actions, especially about Bernard’s +attempt to steal the pendant, and the theft of the motor-cars. +</p> + +<p> +“I have been wondering whether M. Charolais might not have been Arsène +Lupin himself,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s quite possible,” said Guerchard. “There seem to +be no limits whatever to Lupin’s powers of disguising himself. My +colleague, Ganimard, has come across him at least three times that he knows of, +as a different person. And no single time could he be sure that it was the same +man. Of course, he had a feeling that he was in contact with some one he had +met before, but that was all. He had no certainty. He may have met him half a +dozen times besides without knowing him. And the photographs of +him—they’re all different. Ganimard declares that Lupin is so +extraordinarily successful in his disguises because he is a great actor. He +actually becomes for the time being the person he pretends to be. He thinks and +feels absolutely like that person. Do you follow me?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, yes; but he must be rather fluid, this Lupin,” said the Duke; +and then he added thoughtfully, “It must be awfully risky to come so +often into actual contact with men like Ganimard and you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Lupin has never let any consideration of danger prevent him doing +anything that caught his fancy. He has odd fancies, too. He’s a humourist +of the most varied kind—grim, ironic, farcical, as the mood takes him. He +must be awfully trying to live with,” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you think humourists are trying to live with?” said the Duke, +in a meditative tone. “I think they brighten life a good deal; but of +course there are people who do not like them—the middle-classes.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, yes, they’re all very well in their place; but to live with +they must be trying,” said Guerchard quickly. +</p> + +<p> +He went on to question the Duke closely and at length about the household of M. +Gournay-Martin, saying that Arsène Lupin worked with the largest gang a burglar +had ever captained, and it was any odds that he had introduced one, if not +more, of that gang into it. Moreover, in the case of a big affair like this, +Lupin himself often played two or three parts under as many disguises. +</p> + +<p> +“If he was Charolais, I don’t see how he could be one of M. +Gournay-Martin’s household, too,” said the Duke in some perplexity. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t say that he WAS Charolais,” said Guerchard. +“It is quite a moot point. On the whole, I’m inclined to think that +he was not. The theft of the motor-cars was a job for a subordinate. He would +hardly bother himself with it.” +</p> + +<p> +The Duke told him all that he could remember about the millionaire’s +servants—and, under the clever questioning of the detective, he was +surprised to find how much he did remember—all kinds of odd details about +them which he had scarcely been aware of observing. +</p> + +<p> +The two of them, as they talked, afforded an interesting contrast: the Duke, +with his air of distinction and race, his ironic expression, his mobile +features, his clear enunciation and well-modulated voice, his easy carriage of +an accomplished fencer—a fencer with muscles of steel—seemed to be +a man of another kind from the slow-moving detective, with his husky voice, his +common, slurring enunciation, his clumsily moulded features, so ill adapted to +the expression of emotion and intelligence. It was a contrast almost between +the hawk and the mole, the warrior and the workman. Only in their eyes were +they alike; both of them had the keen, alert eyes of observers. Perhaps the +most curious thing of all was that, in spite of the fact that he had for so +much of his life been an idler, trifling away his time in the pursuit of +pleasure, except when he had made his expedition to the South Pole, the Duke +gave one the impression of being a cleverer man, of a far finer brain, than the +detective who had spent so much of his life sharpening his wits on the more +intricate problems of crime. +</p> + +<p> +When Guerchard came to the end of his questions, the Duke said: “You have +given me a very strong feeling that it is going to be a deuce of a job to catch +Lupin. I don’t wonder that, so far, you have none of you laid hands on +him.” +</p> + +<p> +“But we have!” cried Guerchard quickly. “Twice Ganimard has +caught him. Once he had him in prison, and actually brought him to trial. Lupin +became another man, and was let go from the very dock.” +</p> + +<p> +“Really? It sounds absolutely amazing,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“And then, in the affair of the Blue Diamond, Ganimard caught him again. +He has his weakness, Lupin—it’s women. It’s a very common +weakness in these masters of crime. Ganimard and Holmlock Shears, in that +affair, got the better of him by using his love for a woman—‘the +fair-haired lady,’ she was called—to nab him.” +</p> + +<p> +“A shabby trick,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“Shabby?” said Guerchard in a tone of utter wonder. “How can +anything be shabby in the case of a rogue like this?” +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps not—perhaps not—still—” said the Duke, +and stopped. +</p> + +<p> +The expression of wonder faded from Guerchard’s face, and he went on, +“Well, Holmlock Shears recovered the Blue Diamond, and Ganimard nabbed +Lupin. He held him for ten minutes, then Lupin escaped.” +</p> + +<p> +“What became of the fair-haired lady?” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know. I have heard that she is dead,” said +Guerchard. “Now I come to think of it, I heard quite definitely that she +died.” +</p> + +<p> +“It must be awful for a woman to love a man like Lupin—the +constant, wearing anxiety,” said the Duke thoughtfully. +</p> + +<p> +“I dare say. Yet he can have his pick of sweethearts. I’ve been +offered thousands of francs by women—women of your Grace’s world +and wealthy Viennese—to make them acquainted with Lupin,” said +Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“You don’t surprise me,” said the Duke with his ironic smile. +“Women never do stop to think—where one of their heroes is +concerned. And did you do it?” +</p> + +<p> +“How could I? If I only could! If I could find Lupin entangled with a +woman like Ganimard did—well—” said Guerchard between his +teeth. +</p> + +<p> +“He’d never get out of YOUR clutches,” said the Duke with +conviction. +</p> + +<p> +“I think not—I think not,” said Guerchard grimly. “But +come, I may as well get on.” +</p> + +<p> +He walked across the turf to the foot of the ladder and looked at the +footprints round it. He made but a cursory examination of them, and took his +way down the garden-path, out of the door in the wall into the space about the +house that was building. He was not long examining it, and he went right +through it out into the street on which the house would face when it was +finished. He looked up and down it, and began to retrace his footsteps. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve seen all I want to see out here. We may as well go back to +the house,” he said to the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“I hope you’ve seen what you expected to see,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“Exactly what I expected to see—exactly,” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s as it should be,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +They went back to the house and found M. Formery in the drawing-room, still +engaged in the process of reconstruction. +</p> + +<p> +“The thing to do now is to hunt the neighbourhood for witnesses of the +departure of the burglars with their booty. Loaded as they were with such bulky +objects, they must have had a big conveyance. Somebody must have noticed it. +They must have wondered why it was standing in front of a half-built house. +Somebody may have actually seen the burglars loading it, though it was so early +in the morning. Bonavent had better inquire at every house in the street on +which that half-built house faces. Did you happen to notice the name of +it?” said M. Formery. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s Sureau Street,” said Guerchard. “But Dieusy has +been hunting the neighbourhood for some one who saw the burglars loading their +conveyance, or saw it waiting to be loaded, for the last hour.” +</p> + +<p> +“Good,” said M. Formery. “We are getting on.” +</p> + +<p> +M. Formery was silent. Guerchard and the Duke sat down and lighted cigarettes. +</p> + +<p> +“You found plenty of traces,” said M. Formery, waving his hand +towards the window. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; I’ve found plenty of traces,” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Of Lupin?” said M. Formery, with a faint sneer. +</p> + +<p> +“No; not of Lupin,” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +A smile of warm satisfaction illumined M. Formery’s face: +</p> + +<p> +“What did I tell you?” he said. “I’m glad that +you’ve changed your mind about that.” +</p> + +<p> +“I have hardly changed my mind,” said Guerchard, in his husky, +gentle voice. +</p> + +<p> +There came a loud knocking on the front door, the sound of excited voices on +the stairs. The door opened, and in burst M. Gournay-Martin. He took one glance +round the devastated room, raised his clenched hands towards the ceiling, and +bellowed, “The scoundrels! the dirty scoundrels!” And his voice +stuck in his throat. He tottered across the room to a couch, dropped heavily to +it, gazed round the scene of desolation, and burst into tears. +</p> + +<p> +Germaine and Sonia came into the room. The Duke stepped forward to greet them. +</p> + +<p> +“Do stop crying, papa. You’re as hoarse as a crow as it is,” +said Germaine impatiently. Then, turning on the Duke with a frown, she said: +“I think that joke of yours about the train was simply disgraceful, +Jacques. A joke’s a joke, but to send us out to the station on a night +like last night, through all that heavy rain, when you knew all the time that +there was no quarter-to-nine train—it was simply disgraceful.” +</p> + +<p> +“I really don’t know what you’re talking about,” said +the Duke quietly. “Wasn’t there a quarter-to-nine train?” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course there wasn’t,” said Germaine. “The +time-table was years old. I think it was the most senseless attempt at a joke I +ever heard of.” +</p> + +<p> +“It doesn’t seem to me to be a joke at all,” said the Duke +quietly. “At any rate, it isn’t the kind of a joke I make—it +would be detestable. I never thought to look at the date of the time-table. I +keep a box of cigarettes in that drawer, and I have noticed the time-table +there. Of course, it may have been lying there for years. It was stupid of me +not to look at the date.” +</p> + +<p> +“I said it was a mistake. I was sure that his Grace would not do anything +so unkind as that,” said Sonia. +</p> + +<p> +The Duke smiled at her. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, all I can say is, it was very stupid of you not to look at the +date,” said Germaine. +</p> + +<p> +M. Gournay-Martin rose to his feet and wailed, in the most heartrending +fashion: “My pictures! My wonderful pictures! Such investments! And my +cabinets! My Renaissance cabinets! They can’t be replaced! They were +unique! They were worth a hundred and fifty thousand francs.” +</p> + +<p> +M. Formery stepped forward with an air and said, “I am distressed, M. +Gournay-Martin—truly distressed by your loss. I am M. Formery, examining +magistrate.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is a tragedy, M. Formery—a tragedy!” groaned the +millionaire. +</p> + +<p> +“Do not let it upset you too much. We shall find your +masterpieces—we shall find them. Only give us time,” said M. +Formery in a tone of warm encouragement. +</p> + +<p> +The face of the millionaire brightened a little. +</p> + +<p> +“And, after all, you have the consolation, that the burglars did not get +hold of the gem of your collection. They have not stolen the coronet of the +Princesse de Lamballe,” said M. Formery. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” said the Duke. “They have not touched this safe. It is +unopened.” +</p> + +<p> +“What has that got to do with it?” growled the millionaire quickly. +“That safe is empty.” +</p> + +<p> +“Empty ... but your coronet?” cried the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“Good heavens! Then they HAVE stolen it,” cried the millionaire +hoarsely, in a panic-stricken voice. +</p> + +<p> +“But they can’t have—this safe hasn’t been +touched,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“But the coronet never was in that safe. It was—have they entered +my bedroom?” said the millionaire. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” said M. Formery. +</p> + +<p> +“They don’t seem to have gone through any of the rooms except these +two,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, then my mind is at rest about that. The safe in my bedroom has only +two keys. Here is one.” He took a key from his waistcoat pocket and held +it out to them. “And the other is in this safe.” +</p> + +<p> +The face of M. Formery was lighted up with a splendid satisfaction. He might +have rescued the coronet with his own hands. He cried triumphantly, +“There, you see!” +</p> + +<p> +“See? See?” cried the millionaire in a sudden bellow. “I see +that they have robbed me—plundered me. Oh, my pictures! My wonderful +pictures! Such investments!” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap12"></a>CHAPTER XII<br/> +THE THEFT OF THE PENDANT</h2> + +<p> +They stood round the millionaire observing his anguish, with eyes in which +shone various degrees of sympathy. As if no longer able to bear the sight of +such woe, Sonia slipped out of the room. +</p> + +<p> +The millionaire lamented his loss and abused the thieves by turns, but always +at the top of his magnificent voice. +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly a fresh idea struck him. He clapped his hand to his brow and cried: +“That eight hundred pounds! Charolais will never buy the Mercrac now! He +was not a bona fide purchaser!” +</p> + +<p> +The Duke’s lips parted slightly and his eyes opened a trifle wider than +their wont. He turned sharply on his heel, and almost sprang into the other +drawing-room. There he laughed at his ease. +</p> + +<p> +M. Formery kept saying to the millionaire: “Be calm, M. Gournay-Martin. +Be calm! We shall recover your masterpieces. I pledge you my word. All we need +is time. Have patience. Be calm!” +</p> + +<p> +His soothing remonstrances at last had their effect. The millionaire grew calm: +</p> + +<p> +“Guerchard?” he said. “Where is Guerchard?” +</p> + +<p> +M. Formery presented Guerchard to him. +</p> + +<p> +“Are you on their track? Have you a clue?” said the millionaire. +</p> + +<p> +“I think,” said M. Formery in an impressive tone, “that we +may now proceed with the inquiry in the ordinary way.” +</p> + +<p> +He was a little piqued by the millionaire’s so readily turning from him +to the detective. He went to a writing-table, set some sheets of paper before +him, and prepared to make notes on the answers to his questions. The Duke came +back into the drawing-room; the inspector was summoned. M. Gournay-Martin sat +down on a couch with his hands on his knees and gazed gloomily at M. Formery. +Germaine, who was sitting on a couch near the door, waiting with an air of +resignation for her father to cease his lamentations, rose and moved to a chair +nearer the writing-table. Guerchard kept moving restlessly about the room, but +noiselessly. At last he came to a standstill, leaning against the wall behind +M. Formery. +</p> + +<p> +M. Formery went over all the matters about which he had already questioned the +Duke. He questioned the millionaire and his daughter about the Charolais, the +theft of the motor-cars, and the attempted theft of the pendant. He questioned +them at less length about the composition of their household—the servants +and their characters. He elicited no new fact. +</p> + +<p> +He paused, and then he said, carelessly as a mere matter of routine: “I +should like to know, M. Gournay-Martin, if there has ever been any other +robbery committed at your house?” +</p> + +<p> +“Three years ago this scoundrel Lupin—” the millionaire began +violently. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, yes; I know all about that earlier burglary. But have you been +robbed since?” said M. Formery, interrupting him. +</p> + +<p> +“No, I haven’t been robbed since that burglary; but my daughter +has,” said the millionaire. +</p> + +<p> +“Your daughter?” said M. Formery. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; I have been robbed two or three times during the last three +years,” said Germaine. +</p> + +<p> +“Dear me! But you ought to have told us about this before. This is +extremely interesting, and most important,” said M. Formery, rubbing his +hands, “I suppose you suspect Victoire?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, I don’t,” said Germaine quickly. “It +couldn’t have been Victoire. The last two thefts were committed at the +château when Victoire was in Paris in charge of this house.” +</p> + +<p> +M. Formery seemed taken aback, and he hesitated, consulting his notes. Then he +said: “Good—good. That confirms my hypothesis.” +</p> + +<p> +“What hypothesis?” said M. Gournay-Martin quickly. +</p> + +<p> +“Never mind—never mind,” said M. Formery solemnly. And, +turning to Germaine, he went on: “You say, Mademoiselle, that these +thefts began about three years ago?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I think they began about three years ago in August.” +</p> + +<p> +“Let me see. It was in the month of August, three years ago, that your +father, after receiving a threatening letter like the one he received last +night, was the victim of a burglary?” said M. Formery. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, it was—the scoundrels!” cried the millionaire fiercely. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, it would be interesting to know which of your servants entered +your service three years ago,” said M. Formery. +</p> + +<p> +“Victoire has only been with us a year at the outside,” said +Germaine. +</p> + +<p> +“Only a year?” said M. Formery quickly, with an air of some +vexation. He paused and added, “Exactly—exactly. And what was the +nature of the last theft of which you were the victim?” +</p> + +<p> +“It was a pearl brooch—not unlike the pendant which his Grace gave +me yesterday,” said Germaine. +</p> + +<p> +“Would you mind showing me that pendant? I should like to see it,” +said M. Formery. +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly—show it to him, Jacques. You have it, haven’t +you?” said Germaine, turning to the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“Me? No. How should I have it?” said the Duke in some surprise. +“Haven’t you got it?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve only got the case—the empty case,” said Germaine, +with a startled air. +</p> + +<p> +“The empty case?” said the Duke, with growing surprise. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said Germaine. “It was after we came back from our +useless journey to the station. I remembered suddenly that I had started +without the pendant. I went to the bureau and picked up the case; and it was +empty.” +</p> + +<p> +“One moment—one moment,” said M. Formery. “Didn’t +you catch this young Bernard Charolais with this case in his hands, your +Grace?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said the Duke. “I caught him with it in his +pocket.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then you may depend upon it that the young rascal had slipped the +pendant out of its case and you only recovered the empty case from him,” +said M. Formery triumphantly. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” said the Duke. “That is not so. Nor could the thief +have been the burglar who broke open the bureau to get at the keys. For long +after both of them were out of the house I took a cigarette from the box which +stood on the bureau beside the case which held the pendant. And it occurred to +me that the young rascal might have played that very trick on me. I opened the +case and the pendant was there.” +</p> + +<p> +“It has been stolen!” cried the millionaire; “of course it +has been stolen.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, no, no,” said the Duke. “It hasn’t been stolen. +Irma, or perhaps Mademoiselle Kritchnoff, has brought it to Paris for +Germaine.” +</p> + +<p> +“Sonia certainly hasn’t brought it. It was she who suggested to me +that you had seen it lying on the bureau, and slipped it into your +pocket,” said Germaine quickly. +</p> + +<p> +“Then it must be Irma,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“We had better send for her and make sure,” said M. Formery. +“Inspector, go and fetch her.” +</p> + +<p> +The inspector went out of the room and the Duke questioned Germaine and her +father about the journey, whether it had been very uncomfortable, and if they +were very tired by it. He learned that they had been so fortunate as to find +sleeping compartments on the train, so that they had suffered as little as +might be from their night of travel. +</p> + +<p> +M. Formery looked through his notes; Guerchard seemed to be going to sleep +where he stood against the wall. +</p> + +<p> +The inspector came back with Irma. She wore the frightened, half-defensive, +half-defiant air which people of her class wear when confronted by the +authorities. Her big, cow’s eyes rolled uneasily. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, Irma—” Germaine began. +</p> + +<p> +M. Formery cut her short, somewhat brusquely. “Excuse me, excuse me. I am +conducting this inquiry,” he said. And then, turning to Irma, he added, +“Now, don’t be frightened, Mademoiselle Irma; I want to ask you a +question or two. Have you brought up to Paris the pendant which the Duke of +Charmerace gave your mistress yesterday?” +</p> + +<p> +“Me, sir? No, sir. I haven’t brought the pendant,” said Irma. +</p> + +<p> +“You’re quite sure?” said M. Formery. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, sir; I haven’t seen the pendant. Didn’t Mademoiselle +Germaine leave it on the bureau?” said Irma. +</p> + +<p> +“How do you know that?” said M. Formery. +</p> + +<p> +“I heard Mademoiselle Germaine say that it had been on the bureau. I +thought that perhaps Mademoiselle Kritchnoff had put it in her bag.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why should Mademoiselle Kritchnoff put it in her bag?” said the +Duke quickly. +</p> + +<p> +“To bring it up to Paris for Mademoiselle Germaine,” said Irma. +</p> + +<p> +“But what made you think that?” said Guerchard, suddenly +intervening. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I thought Mademoiselle Kritchnoff might have put it in her bag +because I saw her standing by the bureau,” said Irma. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, and the pendant was on the bureau?” said M. Formery. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, sir,” said Irma. +</p> + +<p> +There was a silence. Suddenly the atmosphere of the room seemed to have become +charged with an oppression—a vague menace. Guerchard seemed to have +become wide awake again. Germaine and the Duke looked at one another uneasily. +</p> + +<p> +“Have you been long in the service of Mademoiselle Gournay-Martin?” +said M. Formery. +</p> + +<p> +“Six months, sir,” said Irma. +</p> + +<p> +“Very good, thank you. You can go,” said M. Formery. “I may +want you again presently.” +</p> + +<p> +Irma went quickly out of the room with an air of relief. +</p> + +<p> +M. Formery scribbled a few words on the paper before him and then said: +“Well, I will proceed to question Mademoiselle Kritchnoff.” +</p> + +<p> +“Mademoiselle Kritchnoff is quite above suspicion,” said the Duke +quickly. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, yes, quite,” said Germaine. +</p> + +<p> +“How long has Mademoiselle Kritchnoff been in your service, +Mademoiselle?” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Let me think,” said Germaine, knitting her brow. +</p> + +<p> +“Can’t you remember?” said M. Formery. +</p> + +<p> +“Just about three years,” said Germaine. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s exactly the time at which the thefts began,” said M. +Formery. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said Germaine, reluctantly. +</p> + +<p> +“Ask Mademoiselle Kritchnoff to come here, inspector,” said M. +Formery. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, sir,” said the inspector. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll go and fetch her—I know where to find her,” said +the Duke quickly, moving toward the door. +</p> + +<p> +“Please, please, your Grace,” protested Guerchard. “The +inspector will fetch her.” +</p> + +<p> +The Duke turned sharply and looked at him: “I beg your pardon, but do +you—” he said. +</p> + +<p> +“Please don’t be annoyed, your Grace,” Guerchard interrupted. +“But M. Formery agrees with me—it would be quite irregular.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, yes, your Grace,” said M. Formery. “We have our method +of procedure. It is best to adhere to it—much the best. It is the result +of years of experience of the best way of getting the truth.” +</p> + +<p> +“Just as you please,” said the Duke, shrugging his shoulders. +</p> + +<p> +The inspector came into the room: “Mademoiselle Kritchnoff will be here +in a moment. She was just going out.” +</p> + +<p> +“She was going out?” said M. Formery. “You don’t mean +to say you’re letting members of the household go out?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, sir,” said the inspector. “I mean that she was just +asking if she might go out.” +</p> + +<p> +M. Formery beckoned the inspector to him, and said to him in a voice too low +for the others to hear: +</p> + +<p> +“Just slip up to her room and search her trunks.” +</p> + +<p> +“There is no need to take the trouble,” said Guerchard, in the same +low voice, but with sufficient emphasis. +</p> + +<p> +“No, of course not. There’s no need to take the trouble,” M. +Formery repeated after him. +</p> + +<p> +The door opened, and Sonia came in. She was still wearing her travelling +costume, and she carried her cloak on her arm. She stood looking round her with +an air of some surprise; perhaps there was even a touch of fear in it. The long +journey of the night before did not seem to have dimmed at all her delicate +beauty. The Duke’s eyes rested on her in an inquiring, wondering, even +searching gaze. She looked at him, and her own eyes fell. +</p> + +<p> +“Will you come a little nearer, Mademoiselle?” said M. Formery. +“There are one or two questions—” +</p> + +<p> +“Will you allow me?” said Guerchard, in a tone of such deference +that it left M. Formery no grounds for refusal. +</p> + +<p> +M. Formery flushed and ground his teeth. “Have it your own way!” he +said ungraciously. +</p> + +<p> +“Mademoiselle Kritchnoff,” said Guerchard, in a tone of the most +good-natured courtesy, “there is a matter on which M. Formery needs some +information. The pendant which the Duke of Charmerace gave Mademoiselle +Gournay-Martin yesterday has been stolen.” +</p> + +<p> +“Stolen? Are you sure?” said Sonia in a tone of mingled surprise +and anxiety. +</p> + +<p> +“Quite sure,” said Guerchard. “We have exactly determined the +conditions under which the theft was committed. But we have every reason to +believe that the culprit, to avoid detection, has hidden the pendant in the +travelling-bag or trunk of somebody else in order to—” +</p> + +<p> +“My bag is upstairs in my bedroom, sir,” Sonia interrupted quickly. +“Here is the key of it.” +</p> + +<p> +In order to free her hands to take the key from her wrist-bag, she set her +cloak on the back of a couch. It slipped off it, and fell to the ground at the +feet of the Duke, who had not returned to his place beside Germaine. While she +was groping in her bag for the key, and all eyes were on her, the Duke, who had +watched her with a curious intentness ever since her entry into the room, +stooped quietly down and picked up the cloak. His hand slipped into the pocket +of it; his fingers touched a hard object wrapped in tissue-paper. They closed +round it, drew it from the pocket, and, sheltered by the cloak, transferred it +to his own. He set the cloak on the back of the sofa, and very softly moved +back to his place by Germaine’s side. No one in the room observed the +movement, not even Guerchard: he was watching Sonia too intently. +</p> + +<p> +Sonia found the key, and held it out to Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +He shook his head and said: “There is no reason to search your +bag—none whatever. Have you any other luggage?” +</p> + +<p> +She shrank back a little from his piercing eyes, almost as if their gaze scared +her. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, my trunk ... it’s upstairs in my bedroom too ... open.” +</p> + +<p> +She spoke in a faltering voice, and her troubled eyes could not meet those of +the detective. +</p> + +<p> +“You were going out, I think,” said Guerchard gently. +</p> + +<p> +“I was asking leave to go out. There is some shopping that must be +done,” said Sonia. +</p> + +<p> +“You do not see any reason why Mademoiselle Kritchnoff should not go out, +M. Formery, do you?” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, no, none whatever; of course she can go out,” said M. Formery. +</p> + +<p> +Sonia turned round to go. +</p> + +<p> +“One moment,” said Guerchard, coming forward. “You’ve +only got that wrist-bag with you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said Sonia. “I have my money and my handkerchief in +it.” And she held it out to him. +</p> + +<p> +Guerchard’s keen eyes darted into it; and he muttered, “No point in +looking in that. I don’t suppose any one would have had the +audacity—” and he stopped. +</p> + +<p> +Sonia made a couple of steps toward the door, turned, hesitated, came back to +the couch, and picked up her cloak. +</p> + +<p> +There was a sudden gleam in Guerchard’s eyes—a gleam of +understanding, expectation, and triumph. He stepped forward, and holding out +his hands, said: “Allow me.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, thank you,” said Sonia. “I’m not going to put it +on.” +</p> + +<p> +“No ... but it’s possible ... some one may have ... have you felt +in the pockets of it? That one, now? It seems as if that one—” +</p> + +<p> +He pointed to the pocket which had held the packet. +</p> + +<p> +Sonia started back with an air of utter dismay; her eyes glanced wildly round +the room as if seeking an avenue of escape; her fingers closed convulsively on +the pocket. +</p> + +<p> +“But this is abominable!” she cried. “You look as +if—” +</p> + +<p> +“I beg you, mademoiselle,” interrupted Guerchard. “We are +sometimes obliged—” +</p> + +<p> +“Really, Mademoiselle Sonia,” broke in the Duke, in a singularly +clear and piercing tone, “I cannot see why you should object to this mere +formality.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, but—but—” gasped Sonia, raising her +terror-stricken eyes to his. +</p> + +<p> +The Duke seemed to hold them with his own; and he said in the same clear, +piercing voice, “There isn’t the slightest reason for you to be +frightened.” +</p> + +<p> +Sonia let go of the cloak, and Guerchard, his face all alight with triumph, +plunged his hand into the pocket. He drew it out empty, and stared at it, while +his face fell to an utter, amazed blankness. +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing? nothing?” he muttered under his breath. And he stared at +his empty hand as if he could not believe his eyes. +</p> + +<p> +By a violent effort he forced an apologetic smile on his face, and said to +Sonia: “A thousand apologies, mademoiselle.” +</p> + +<p> +He handed the cloak to her. Sonia took it and turned to go. She took a step +towards the door, and tottered. +</p> + +<p> +The Duke sprang forward and caught her as she was falling. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you feel faint?” he said in an anxious voice. +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you, you just saved me in time,” muttered Sonia. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m really very sorry,” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you, it was nothing. I’m all right now,” said Sonia, +releasing herself from the Duke’s supporting arm. +</p> + +<p> +She drew herself up, and walked quietly out of the room. +</p> + +<p> +Guerchard went back to M. Formery at the writing-table. +</p> + +<p> +“You made a clumsy mistake there, Guerchard,” said M. Formery, with +a touch of gratified malice in his tone. +</p> + +<p> +Guerchard took no notice of it: “I want you to give orders that nobody +leaves the house without my permission,” he said, in a low voice. +</p> + +<p> +“No one except Mademoiselle Kritchnoff, I suppose,” said M. +Formery, smiling. +</p> + +<p> +“She less than any one,” said Guerchard quickly. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t understand what you’re driving at a bit,” said +M. Formery. “Unless you suppose that Mademoiselle Kritchnoff is Lupin in +disguise.” +</p> + +<p> +Guerchard laughed softly: “You will have your joke, M. Formery,” he +said. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, well, I’ll give the order,” said M. Formery, somewhat +mollified by the tribute to his humour. +</p> + +<p> +He called the inspector to him and whispered a word in his ear. Then he rose +and said: “I think, gentlemen, we ought to go and examine the bedrooms, +and, above all, make sure that the safe in M. Gournay-Martin’s bedroom +has not been tampered with.” +</p> + +<p> +“I was wondering how much longer we were going to waste time here talking +about that stupid pendant,” grumbled the millionaire; and he rose and led +the way. +</p> + +<p> +“There may also be some jewel-cases in the bedrooms,” said M. +Formery. “There are all the wedding presents. They were in charge of +Victoire.” said Germaine quickly. “It would be dreadful if they had +been stolen. Some of them are from the first families in France.” +</p> + +<p> +“They would replace them ... those paper-knives,” said the Duke, +smiling. +</p> + +<p> +Germaine and her father led the way. M. Formery, Guerchard, and the inspector +followed them. At the door the Duke paused, stopped, closed it on them softly. +He came back to the window, put his hand in his pocket, and drew out the packet +wrapped in tissue-paper. +</p> + +<p> +He unfolded the paper with slow, reluctant fingers, and revealed the pendant. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap13"></a>CHAPTER XIII<br/> +LUPIN WIRES</h2> + +<p> +The Duke stared at the pendant, his eyes full of wonder and pity. +</p> + +<p> +“Poor little girl!” he said softly under his breath. +</p> + +<p> +He put the pendant carefully away in his waistcoat-pocket and stood staring +thoughtfully out of the window. +</p> + +<p> +The door opened softly, and Sonia came quickly into the room, closed the door, +and leaned back against it. Her face was a dead white; her skin had lost its +lustre of fine porcelain, and she stared at him with eyes dim with anguish. +</p> + +<p> +In a hoarse, broken voice, she muttered: “Forgive me! Oh, forgive +me!” +</p> + +<p> +“A thief—you?” said the Duke, in a tone of pitying wonder. +</p> + +<p> +Sonia groaned. +</p> + +<p> +“You mustn’t stop here,” said the Duke in an uneasy tone, and +he looked uneasily at the door. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, you don’t want to speak to me any more,” said Sonia, in +a heartrending tone, wringing her hands. +</p> + +<p> +“Guerchard is suspicious of everything. It is dangerous for us to be +talking here. I assure you that it’s dangerous,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“What an opinion must you have of me! It’s +dreadful—cruel!” wailed Sonia. +</p> + +<p> +“For goodness’ sake don’t speak so loud,” said the +Duke, with even greater uneasiness. “You MUST think of Guerchard.” +</p> + +<p> +“What do I care?” cried Sonia. “I’ve lost the liking of +the only creature whose liking I wanted. What does anything else matter? What +DOES it matter?” +</p> + +<p> +“We’ll talk somewhere else presently. That’ll be far +safer,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“No, no, we must talk now!” cried Sonia. “You must know.... I +must tell ... Oh, dear! ... Oh, dear! ... I don’t know how to tell +you.... And then it is so unfair.... she ... Germaine ... she has +everything,” she panted. “Yesterday, before me, you gave her that +pendant, ... she smiled ... she was proud of it.... I saw her pleasure.... Then +I took it—I took it—I took it! And if I could, I’d take her +fortune, too.... I hate her! Oh, how I hate her!” +</p> + +<p> +“What!” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I do ... I hate her!” said Sonia; and her eyes, no longer +gentle, glowed with the sombre resentment, the dull rage of the weak who turn +on Fortune. Her gentle voice was harsh with rebellious wrath. +</p> + +<p> +“You hate her?” said the Duke quickly. +</p> + +<p> +“I should never have told you that.... But now I dare.... I dare speak +out.... It’s you! ... It’s you—” The avowal died on her +lips. A burning flush crimsoned her cheeks and faded as quickly as it came: +“I hate her!” she muttered. +</p> + +<p> +“Sonia—” said the Duke gently. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! I know that it’s no excuse.... I know that you’re +thinking ‘This is a very pretty story, but it’s not her first +theft’; ... and it’s true—it’s the tenth, ... perhaps +it’s the twentieth.... It’s true—I am a thief.” She +paused, and the glow deepened in her eyes. “But there’s one thing +you must believe—you shall believe; since you came, since I’ve +known you, since the first day you set eyes on me, I have stolen no more ... +till yesterday when you gave her the pendant before me. I could not bear it ... +I could not.” She paused and looked at him with eyes that demanded an +assent. +</p> + +<p> +“I believe you,” said the Duke gravely. +</p> + +<p> +She heaved a deep sigh of relief, and went on more quietly—some of its +golden tone had returned to her voice: “And then, if you knew how it +began ... the horror of it,” she said. +</p> + +<p> +“Poor child!” said the Duke softly. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, you pity me, but you despise me—you despise me beyond words. +You shall not! I will not have it!” she cried fiercely. +</p> + +<p> +“Believe me, no,” said the Duke, in a soothing tone. +</p> + +<p> +“Listen,” said Sonia. “Have you ever been alone—alone +in the world? ... Have you ever been hungry? Think of it ... in this big city +where I was starving in sight of bread ... bread in the shops .... One only had +to stretch out one’s hand to touch it ... a penny loaf. Oh, it’s +commonplace!” she broke off: “quite commonplace!” +</p> + +<p> +“Go on: tell me,” said the Duke curtly. +</p> + +<p> +“There was one way I could make money and I would not do it: no, I would +not,” she went on. “But that day I was dying ... understand, I was +dying ....I went to the rooms of a man I knew a little. It was my last +resource. At first I was glad ... he gave me food and wine ... and then, he +talked to me ... he offered me money.” +</p> + +<p> +“What!” cried the Duke; and a sudden flame of anger flared up in +his eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“No; I could not ... and then I robbed him.... I preferred to ... it was +more decent. Ah, I had excuses then. I began to steal to remain an honest woman +... and I’ve gone on stealing to keep up appearances. You see ... I joke +about it.” And she laughed, the faint, dreadful, mocking laugh of a +damned soul. “Oh, dear! Oh, dear!” she cried; and, burying her face +in her hands, she burst into a storm of weeping. +</p> + +<p> +“Poor child,” said the Duke softly. And he stared gloomily on the +ground, overcome by this revelation of the tortures of the feeble in the +underworld beneath the Paris he knew. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, you do pity me ... you do understand ... and feel,” said +Sonia, between her sobs. +</p> + +<p> +The Duke raised his head and gazed at her with eyes full of an infinite +sympathy and compassion. +</p> + +<p> +“Poor little Sonia,” he said gently. “I understand.” +</p> + +<p> +She gazed at him with incredulous eyes, in which joy and despair mingled, +struggling. +</p> + +<p> +He came slowly towards her, and stopped short. His quick ear had caught the +sound of a footstep outside the door. +</p> + +<p> +“Quick! Dry your eyes! You must look composed. The other room!” he +cried, in an imperative tone. +</p> + +<p> +He caught her hand and drew her swiftly into the further drawing-room. +</p> + +<p> +With the quickness which came of long practice in hiding her feelings Sonia +composed her face to something of its usual gentle calm. There was even a faint +tinge of colour in her cheeks; they had lost their dead whiteness. A faint +light shone in her eyes; the anguish had cleared from them. They rested on the +Duke with a look of ineffable gratitude. She sat down on a couch. The Duke went +to the window and lighted a cigarette. They heard the door of the outer +drawing-room open, and there was a pause. Quick footsteps crossed the room, and +Guerchard stood in the doorway. He looked from one to the other with keen and +eager eyes. Sonia sat staring rather listlessly at the carpet. The Duke turned, +and smiled at him. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, M. Guerchard,” he said. “I hope the burglars have not +stolen the coronet.” +</p> + +<p> +“The coronet is safe, your Grace,” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“And the paper-knives?” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“The paper-knives?” said Guerchard with an inquiring air. +</p> + +<p> +“The wedding presents,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, your Grace, the wedding presents are safe,” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“I breathe again,” said the Duke languidly. +</p> + +<p> +Guerchard turned to Sonia and said, “I was looking for you, Mademoiselle, +to tell you that M. Formery has changed his mind. It is impossible for you to +go out. No one will be allowed to go out.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes?” said Sonia, in an indifferent tone. +</p> + +<p> +“We should be very much obliged if you would go to your room,” said +Guerchard. “Your meals will be sent up to you.” +</p> + +<p> +“What?” said Sonia, rising quickly; and she looked from Guerchard +to the Duke. The Duke gave her the faintest nod. +</p> + +<p> +“Very well, I will go to my room,” she said coldly. +</p> + +<p> +They accompanied her to the door of the outer drawing-room. Guerchard opened it +for her and closed it after her. +</p> + +<p> +“Really, M. Guerchard,” said the Duke, shrugging his shoulders. +“This last measure—a child like that!” +</p> + +<p> +“Really, I’m very sorry, your Grace; but it’s my trade, or, +if you prefer it, my duty. As long as things are taking place here which I am +still the only one to perceive, and which are not yet clear to me, I must +neglect no precaution.” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course, you know best,” said the Duke. “But still, a +child like that—you’re frightening her out of her life.” +</p> + +<p> +Guerchard shrugged his shoulders, and went quietly out of the room. +</p> + +<p> +The Duke sat down in an easy chair, frowning and thoughtful. Suddenly there +struck on his ears the sound of a loud roaring and heavy bumping on the stairs, +the door flew open, and M. Gournay-Martin stood on the threshold waving a +telegram in his hand. +</p> + +<p> +M. Formery and the inspector came hurrying down the stairs behind him, and +watched his emotion with astonished and wondering eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“Here!” bellowed the millionaire. “A telegram! A telegram +from the scoundrel himself! Listen! Just listen:” +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +“A thousand apologies for not having been able to keep my promise about +the coronet. Had an appointment at the Acacias. Please have coronet ready in +your room to-night. Will come without fail to fetch it, between a quarter to +twelve and twelve o’clock.”<br/> +<br/> +“Yours affectionately,”<br/> +“ARSÈNE LUPIN.” +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +“There! What do you think of that?” +</p> + +<p> +“If you ask me, I think he’s humbug,” said the Duke with +conviction. +</p> + +<p> +“Humbug! You always think it’s humbug! You thought the letter was +humbug; and look what has happened!” cried the millionaire. +</p> + +<p> +“Give me the telegram, please,” said M. Formery quickly. +</p> + +<p> +The millionaire gave it to him; and he read it through. +</p> + +<p> +“Find out who brought it, inspector,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +The inspector hurried to the top of the staircase and called to the policeman +in charge of the front door. He came back to the drawing-room and said: +“It was brought by an ordinary post-office messenger, sir.” +</p> + +<p> +“Where is he?” said M. Formery. “Why did you let him +go?” +</p> + +<p> +“Shall I send for him, sir?” said the inspector. +</p> + +<p> +“No, no, it doesn’t matter,” said M. Formery; and, turning to +M. Gournay-Martin and the Duke, he said, “Now we’re really going to +have trouble with Guerchard. He is going to muddle up everything. This telegram +will be the last straw. Nothing will persuade him now that this is not +Lupin’s work. And just consider, gentlemen: if Lupin had come last night, +and if he had really set his heart on the coronet, he would have stolen it +then, or at any rate he would have tried to open the safe in M. +Gournay-Martin’s bedroom, in which the coronet actually is, or this safe +here”—he went to the safe and rapped on the door of +it—“in which is the second key.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s quite clear,” said the inspector. +</p> + +<p> +“If, then, he did not make the attempt last night, when he had a clear +field—when the house was empty—he certainly will not make the +attempt now when we are warned, when the police are on the spot, and the house +is surrounded. The idea is childish, gentlemen”—he leaned against +the door of the safe—“absolutely childish, but Guerchard is mad on +this point; and I foresee that his madness is going to hamper us in the most +idiotic way.” +</p> + +<p> +He suddenly pitched forward into the middle of the room, as the door of the +safe opened with a jerk, and Guerchard shot out of it. +</p> + +<p> +“What the devil!” cried M. Formery, gaping at him. +</p> + +<p> +“You’d be surprised how clearly you hear everything in these +safes—you’d think they were too thick,” said Guerchard, in +his gentle, husky voice. +</p> + +<p> +“How on earth did you get into it?” cried M. Formery. +</p> + +<p> +“Getting in was easy enough. It’s the getting out that was awkward. +These jokers had fixed up some kind of a spring so that I nearly shot out with +the door,” said Guerchard, rubbing his elbow. +</p> + +<p> +“But how did you get into it? How the deuce DID you get into it?” +cried M. Formery. +</p> + +<p> +“Through the little cabinet into which that door behind the safe opens. +There’s no longer any back to the safe; they’ve cut it clean out of +it—a very neat piece of work. Safes like this should always be fixed +against a wall, not stuck in front of a door. The backs of them are always the +weak point.” +</p> + +<p> +“And the key? The key of the safe upstairs, in my bedroom, where the +coronet is—is the key there?” cried M. Gournay-Martin. +</p> + +<p> +Guerchard went back into the empty safe, and groped about in it. He came out +smiling. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, have you found the key?” cried the millionaire. +</p> + +<p> +“No. I haven’t; but I’ve found something better,” said +Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“What is it?” said M. Formery sharply. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll give you a hundred guesses,” said Guerchard with a +tantalizing smile. +</p> + +<p> +“What is it?” said M. Formery. +</p> + +<p> +“A little present for you,” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“What do you mean?” cried M. Formery angrily. +</p> + +<p> +Guerchard held up a card between his thumb and forefinger and said quietly: +</p> + +<p> +“The card of Arsène Lupin.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap14"></a>CHAPTER XIV<br/> +GUERCHARD PICKS UP THE TRUE SCENT</h2> + +<p> +The millionaire gazed at the card with stupefied eyes, the inspector gazed at +it with extreme intelligence, the Duke gazed at it with interest, and M. +Formery gazed at it with extreme disgust. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s part of the same ruse—it was put there to throw us off +the scent. It proves nothing—absolutely nothing,” he said +scornfully. +</p> + +<p> +“No; it proves nothing at all,” said Guerchard quietly. +</p> + +<p> +“The telegram is the important thing—this telegram,” said M. +Gournay-Martin feverishly. “It concerns the coronet. Is it going to be +disregarded?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, no, no,” said M. Formery in a soothing tone. “It will be +taken into account. It will certainly be taken into account.” +</p> + +<p> +M. Gournay-Martin’s butler appeared in the doorway of the drawing-room: +“If you please, sir, lunch is served,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +At the tidings some of his weight of woe appeared to be lifted from the head of +the millionaire. “Good!” he said, “good! Gentlemen, you will +lunch with me, I hope.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you,” said M. Formery. “There is nothing else for us +to do, at any rate at present, and in the house. I am not quite satisfied about +Mademoiselle Kritchnoff—at least Guerchard is not. I propose to question +her again—about those earlier thefts.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m sure there’s nothing in that,” said the Duke +quickly. +</p> + +<p> +“No, no; I don’t think there is,” said M. Formery. “But +still one never knows from what quarter light may come in an affair like this. +Accident often gives us our best clues.” +</p> + +<p> +“It seems rather a shame to frighten her—she’s such a +child,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I shall be gentle, your Grace—as gentle as possible, that is. +But I look to get more from the examination of Victoire. She was on the scene. +She has actually seen the rogues at work; but till she recovers there is +nothing more to be done, except to wait the discoveries of the detectives who +are working outside; and they will report here. So in the meantime we shall be +charmed to lunch with you, M. Gournay-Martin.” +</p> + +<p> +They went downstairs to the dining-room and found an elaborate and luxurious +lunch, worthy of the hospitality of a millionaire, awaiting them. The skill of +the cook seemed to have been quite unaffected by the losses of his master. M. +Formery, an ardent lover of good things, enjoyed himself immensely. He was in +the highest spirits. Germaine, a little upset by the night-journey, was rather +querulous. Her father was plunged in a gloom which lifted for but a brief space +at the appearance of a fresh delicacy. Guerchard ate and drank seriously, +answering the questions of the Duke in a somewhat absent-minded fashion. The +Duke himself seemed to have lost his usual flow of good spirits, and at times +his brow was knitted in an anxious frown. His questions to Guerchard showed a +far less keen interest in the affair. +</p> + +<p> +To him the lunch seemed very long and very tedious; but at last it came to an +end. M. Gournay-Martin seemed to have been much cheered by the wine he had +drunk. He was almost hopeful. M. Formery, who had not by any means trifled with +the champagne, was raised to the very height of sanguine certainty. Their +coffee and liqueurs were served in the smoking-room. Guerchard lighted a cigar, +refused a liqueur, drank his coffee quickly, and slipped out of the room. +</p> + +<p> +The Duke followed him, and in the hall said: “I will continue to watch +you unravel the threads of this mystery, if I may, M. Guerchard.” +</p> + +<p> +Good Republican as Guerchard was, he could not help feeling flattered by the +interest of a Duke; and the excellent lunch he had eaten disposed him to feel +the honour even more deeply. +</p> + +<p> +“I shall be charmed,” he said. “To tell the truth, I find the +company of your Grace really quite stimulating.” +</p> + +<p> +“It must be because I find it all so extremely interesting,” said +the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +They went up to the drawing-room and found the red-faced young policeman seated +on a chair by the door eating a lunch, which had been sent up to him from the +millionaire’s kitchen, with a very hearty appetite. +</p> + +<p> +They went into the drawing-room. Guerchard shut the door and turned the key: +“Now,” he said, “I think that M. Formery will give me half an +hour to myself. His cigar ought to last him at least half an hour. In that time +I shall know what the burglars really did with their plunder—at least I +shall know for certain how they got it out of the house.” +</p> + +<p> +“Please explain,” said the Duke. “I thought we knew how they +got it out of the house.” And he waved his hand towards the window. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, that!—that’s childish,” said Guerchard +contemptuously. “Those are traces for an examining magistrate. The +ladder, the table on the window-sill, they lead nowhere. The only people who +came up that ladder were the two men who brought it from the scaffolding. You +can see their footsteps. Nobody went down it at all. It was mere waste of time +to bother with those traces.” +</p> + +<p> +“But the footprint under the book?” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, that,” said Guerchard. “One of the burglars sat on the +couch there, rubbed plaster on the sole of his boot, and set his foot down on +the carpet. Then he dusted the rest of the plaster off his boot and put the +book on the top of the footprint.” +</p> + +<p> +“Now, how do you know that?” said the astonished Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s as plain as a pike-staff,” said Guerchard. “There +must have been several burglars to move such pieces of furniture. If the soles +of all of them had been covered with plaster, all the sweeping in the world +would not have cleared the carpet of the tiny fragments of it. I’ve been +over the carpet between the footprint and the window with a magnifying glass. +There are no fragments of plaster on it. We dismiss the footprint. It is a mere +blind, and a very fair blind too—for an examining magistrate.” +</p> + +<p> +“I understand,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“That narrows the problem, the quite simple problem, how was the +furniture taken out of the room. It did not go through that window down the +ladder. Again, it was not taken down the stairs, and out of the front door, or +the back. If it had been, the concierge and his wife would have heard the +noise. Besides that, it would have been carried down into a main street, in +which there are people at all hours. Somebody would have been sure to tell a +policeman that this house was being emptied. Moreover, the police were +continually patrolling the main streets, and, quickly as a man like Lupin would +do the job, he could not do it so quickly that a policeman would not have seen +it. No; the furniture was not taken down the stairs or out of the front door. +That narrows the problem still more. In fact, there is only one mode of egress +left.” +</p> + +<p> +“The chimney!” cried the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“You’ve hit it,” said Guerchard, with a husky laugh. +“By that well-known logical process, the process of elimination, +we’ve excluded all methods of egress except the chimney.” +</p> + +<p> +He paused, frowning, in some perplexity; and then he said uneasily: “What +I don’t like about it is that Victoire was set in the fireplace. I asked +myself at once what was she doing there. It was unnecessary that she should be +drugged and set in the fireplace—quite unnecessary.” +</p> + +<p> +“It might have been to put off an examining magistrate,” said the +Duke. “Having found Victoire in the fireplace, M. Formery did not look +for anything else.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, it might have been that,” said Guerchard slowly. “On +the other hand, she might have been put there to make sure that I did not miss +the road the burglars took. That’s the worst of having to do with Lupin. +He knows me to the bottom of my mind. He has something up his sleeve—some +surprise for me. Even now, I’m nowhere near the bottom of the mystery. +But come along, we’ll take the road the burglars took. The inspector has +put my lantern ready for me.” +</p> + +<p> +As he spoke he went to the fireplace, picked up a lantern which had been set on +the top of the iron fire-basket, and lighted it. The Duke stepped into the +great fireplace beside him. It was four feet deep, and between eight and nine +feet broad. Guerchard threw the light from the lantern on to the back wall of +it. Six feet from the floor the soot from the fire stopped abruptly, and there +was a dappled patch of bricks, half of them clean and red, half of them +blackened by soot, five feet broad, and four feet high. +</p> + +<p> +“The opening is higher up than I thought,” said Guerchard. “I +must get a pair of steps.” +</p> + +<p> +He went to the door of the drawing-room and bade the young policeman fetch him +a pair of steps. They were brought quickly. He took them from the policeman, +shut the door, and locked it again. He set the steps in the fireplace and +mounted them. +</p> + +<p> +“Be careful,” he said to the Duke, who had followed him into the +fireplace, and stood at the foot of the steps. “Some of these bricks may +drop inside, and they’ll sting you up if they fall on your toes.” +</p> + +<p> +The Duke stepped back out of reach of any bricks that might fall. +</p> + +<p> +Guerchard set his left hand against the wall of the chimney-piece between him +and the drawing-room, and pressed hard with his right against the top of the +dappled patch of bricks. At the first push, half a dozen of them fell with a +bang on to the floor of the next house. The light came flooding in through the +hole, and shone on Guerchard’s face and its smile of satisfaction. +Quickly he pushed row after row of bricks into the next house until he had +cleared an opening four feet square. +</p> + +<p> +“Come along,” he said to the Duke, and disappeared feet foremost +through the opening. +</p> + +<p> +The Duke mounted the steps, and found himself looking into a large empty room +of the exact size and shape of the drawing-room of M. Gournay-Martin, save that +it had an ordinary modern fireplace instead of one of the antique pattern of +that in which he stood. Its chimney-piece was a few inches below the opening. +He stepped out on to the chimney-piece and dropped lightly to the floor. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” he said, looking back at the opening through which he had +come. “That’s an ingenious dodge.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, it’s common enough,” said Guerchard. “Robberies at +the big jewellers’ are sometimes worked by these means. But what is +uncommon about it, and what at first sight put me off the track, is that these +burglars had the cheek to pierce the wall with an opening large enough to +enable them to remove the furniture of a house.” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s true,” said the Duke. “The opening’s as +large as a good-sized window. Those burglars seem capable of +everything—even of a first-class piece of mason’s work.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, this has all been prepared a long while ago. But now I’m +really on their track. And after all, I haven’t really lost any time. +Dieusy wasted no time in making inquiries in Sureau Street; he’s been +working all this side of the house.” +</p> + +<p> +Guerchard drew up the blinds, opened the shutters, and let the daylight flood +the dim room. He came back to the fireplace and looked down at the heap of +bricks, frowning: +</p> + +<p> +“I made a mistake there,” he said. “I ought to have taken +those bricks down carefully, one by one.” +</p> + +<p> +Quickly he took brick after brick from the pile, and began to range them neatly +against the wall on the left. The Duke watched him for two or three minutes, +then began to help him. It did not take them long, and under one of the last +few bricks Guerchard found a fragment of a gilded picture-frame. +</p> + +<p> +“Here’s where they ought to have done their sweeping,” he +said, holding it up to the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“I tell you what,” said the Duke, “I shouldn’t wonder +if we found the furniture in this house still.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, no, no!” said Guerchard. “I tell you that Lupin would +allow for myself or Ganimard being put in charge of the case; and he would know +that we should find the opening in the chimney. The furniture was taken +straight out into the side-street on to which this house opens.” He led +the way out of the room on to the landing and went down the dark staircase into +the hall. He opened the shutters of the hall windows, and let in the light. +Then he examined the hall. The dust lay thick on the tiled floor. Down the +middle of it was a lane formed by many feet. The footprints were faint, but +still plain in the layer of dust. Guerchard came back to the stairs and began +to examine them. Half-way up the flight he stooped, and picked up a little +spray of flowers: “Fresh!” he said. “These have not been long +plucked.” +</p> + +<p> +“Salvias,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“Salvias they are,” said Guerchard. “Pink salvias; and there +is only one gardener in France who has ever succeeded in getting this +shade—M. Gournay-Martin’s gardener at Charmerace. I’m a +gardener myself.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, then, last night’s burglars came from Charmerace. They must +have,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“It looks like it,” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“The Charolais,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“It looks like it,” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“It must be,” said the Duke. “This IS interesting—if +only we could get an absolute proof.” +</p> + +<p> +“We shall get one presently,” said Guerchard confidently. +</p> + +<p> +“It is interesting,” said the Duke in a tone of lively enthusiasm. +“These clues—these tracks which cross one another—each fact +by degrees falling into its proper place—extraordinarily +interesting.” He paused and took out his cigarette-case: “Will you +have a cigarette?” he said. +</p> + +<p> +“Are they caporal?” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“No, Egyptians—Mercedes.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you,” said Guerchard; and he took one. +</p> + +<p> +The Duke struck a match, lighted Guerchard’s cigarette, and then his own: +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, it’s very interesting,” he said. “In the last +quarter of an hour you’ve practically discovered that the burglars came +from Charmerace—that they were the Charolais—that they came in by +the front door of this house, and carried the furniture out of it.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know about their coming in by it,” said Guerchard. +“Unless I’m very much mistaken, they came in by the front door of +M. Gournay-Martin’s house.” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course,” said the Duke. “I was forgetting. They brought +the keys from Charmerace.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, but who drew the bolts for them?” said Guerchard. “The +concierge bolted them before he went to bed. He told me so. He was telling the +truth—I know when that kind of man is telling the truth.” +</p> + +<p> +“By Jove!” said the Duke softly. “You mean that they had an +accomplice?” +</p> + +<p> +“I think we shall find that they had an accomplice. But your Grace is +beginning to draw inferences with uncommon quickness. I believe that you would +make a first-class detective yourself—with practice, of course—with +practice.” +</p> + +<p> +“Can I have missed my true career?” said the Duke, smiling. +“It’s certainly a very interesting game.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I’m not going to search this barracks myself,” said +Guerchard. “I’ll send in a couple of men to do it; but I’ll +just take a look at the steps myself.” +</p> + +<p> +So saying, he opened the front door and went out and examined the steps +carefully. +</p> + +<p> +“We shall have to go back the way we came,” he said, when he had +finished his examination. “The drawing-room door is locked. We ought to +find M. Formery hammering on it.” And he smiled as if he found the +thought pleasing. +</p> + +<p> +They went back up the stairs, through the opening, into the drawing-room of M. +Gournay-Martin’s house. Sure enough, from the other side of the locked +door came the excited voice of M. Formery, crying: +</p> + +<p> +“Guerchard! Guerchard! What are you doing? Let me in! Why don’t you +let me in?” +</p> + +<p> +Guerchard unlocked the door; and in bounced M. Formery, very excited, very red +in the face. +</p> + +<p> +“Hang it all, Guerchard! What on earth have you been doing?” he +cried. “Why didn’t you open the door when I knocked?” +</p> + +<p> +“I didn’t hear you,” said Guerchard. “I wasn’t in +the room.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then where on earth have you been?” cried M. Formery. +</p> + +<p> +Guerchard looked at him with a faint, ironical smile, and said in his gentle +voice, “I was following the real track of the burglars.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap15"></a>CHAPTER XV<br/> +THE EXAMINATION OF SONIA</h2> + +<p> +M. Formery gasped: “The real track?” he muttered. +</p> + +<p> +“Let me show you,” said Guerchard. And he led him to the fireplace, +and showed him the opening between the two houses. +</p> + +<p> +“I must go into this myself!” cried M. Formery in wild excitement. +</p> + +<p> +Without more ado he began to mount the steps. Guerchard followed him. The Duke +saw their heels disappear up the steps. Then he came out of the drawing-room +and inquired for M. Gournay-Martin. He was told that the millionaire was up in +his bedroom; and he went upstairs, and knocked at the door of it. +</p> + +<p> +M. Gournay-Martin bade him enter in a very faint voice, and the Duke found him +lying on the bed. He was looking depressed, even exhausted, the shadow of the +blusterous Gournay-Martin of the day before. The rich rosiness of his cheeks +had faded to a moderate rose-pink. +</p> + +<p> +“That telegram,” moaned the millionaire. “It was the last +straw. It has overwhelmed me. The coronet is lost.” +</p> + +<p> +“What, already?” said the Duke, in a tone of the liveliest +surprise. +</p> + +<p> +“No, no; it’s still in the safe,” said the millionaire. +“But it’s as good as lost—before midnight it will be lost. +That fiend will get it.” +</p> + +<p> +“If it’s in this safe now, it won’t be lost before +midnight,” said the Duke. “But are you sure it’s there +now?” +</p> + +<p> +“Look for yourself,” said the millionaire, taking the key of the +safe from his waistcoat pocket, and handing it to the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +The Duke opened the safe. The morocco case which held the coronet lay on the +middle shell in front of him. He glanced at the millionaire, and saw that he +had closed his eyes in the exhaustion of despair. Whistling softly, the Duke +opened the case, took out the diadem, and examined it carefully, admiring its +admirable workmanship. He put it back in the case, turned to the millionaire, +and said thoughtfully: +</p> + +<p> +“I can never make up my mind, in the case of one of these old diadems, +whether one ought not to take out the stones and have them re-cut. Look at this +emerald now. It’s a very fine stone, but this old-fashioned cutting does +not really do it justice.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, no, no: you should never interfere with an antique, historic piece +of jewellery. Any alteration decreases its value—its value as an historic +relic,” cried the millionaire, in a shocked tone. +</p> + +<p> +“I know that,” said the Duke, “but the question for me is, +whether one ought not to sacrifice some of its value to increasing its +beauty.” +</p> + +<p> +“You do have such mad ideas,” said the millionaire, in a tone of +peevish exasperation. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, well, it’s a nice question,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +He snapped the case briskly, put it back on the shelf, locked the safe, and +handed the key to the millionaire. Then he strolled across the room and looked +down into the street, whistling softly. +</p> + +<p> +“I think—I think—I’ll go home and get out of these +motoring clothes. And I should like to have on a pair of boots that were a +trifle less muddy,” he said slowly. +</p> + +<p> +M. Gournay-Martin sat up with a jerk and cried, “For Heaven’s sake, +don’t you go and desert me, my dear chap! You don’t know what my +nerves are like!” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, you’ve got that sleuth-hound, Guerchard, and the splendid +Formery, and four other detectives, and half a dozen ordinary policemen +guarding you. You can do without my feeble arm. Besides, I shan’t be gone +more than half an hour—three-quarters at the outside. I’ll bring +back my evening clothes with me, and dress for dinner here. I don’t +suppose that anything fresh will happen between now and midnight; but I want to +be on the spot, and hear the information as it comes in fresh. Besides, +there’s Guerchard. I positively cling to Guerchard. It’s an +education, though perhaps not a liberal education, to go about with him,” +said the Duke; and there was a sub-acid irony in his voice. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, if you must, you must,” said M. Gournay-Martin grumpily. +</p> + +<p> +“Good-bye for the present, then,” said the Duke. And he went out of +the room and down the stairs. He took his motor-cap from the hall-table, and +had his hand on the latch of the door, when the policeman in charge of it said, +“I beg your pardon, sir, but have you M. Guerchard’s permission to +leave the house?” +</p> + +<p> +“M. Guerchard’s permission?” said the Duke haughtily. +“What has M. Guerchard to do with me? I am the Duke of Charmerace.” +And he opened the door. +</p> + +<p> +“It was M. Formery’s orders, your Grace,” stammered the +policeman doubtfully. +</p> + +<p> +“M. Formery’s orders?” said the Duke, standing on the top +step. “Call me a taxi-cab, please.” +</p> + +<p> +The concierge, who stood beside the policeman, ran down the steps and blew his +whistle. The policeman gazed uneasily at the Duke, shifting his weight from one +foot to the other; but he said no more. +</p> + +<p> +A taxi-cab came up to the door, the Duke went down the steps, stepped into it, +and drove away. +</p> + +<p> +Three-quarters of an hour later he came back, having changed into clothes more +suited to a Paris drawing-room. He went up to the drawing-room, and there he +found Guerchard, M. Formery, and the inspector, who had just completed their +tour of inspection of the house next door and had satisfied themselves that the +stolen treasures were not in it. The inspector and his men had searched it +thoroughly just to make sure; but, as Guerchard had foretold, the burglars had +not taken the chance of the failure of the police to discover the opening +between the two houses. M. Formery told the Duke about their tour of inspection +at length. Guerchard went to the telephone and told the exchange to put him +through to Charmerace. He was informed that the trunk line was very busy and +that he might have to wait half an hour. +</p> + +<p> +The Duke inquired if any trace of the burglars, after they had left with their +booty, had yet been found. M. Formery told him that, so far, the detectives had +failed to find a single trace. Guerchard said that he had three men at work on +the search, and that he was hopeful of getting some news before long. +</p> + +<p> +“The layman is impatient in these matters,” said M. Formery, with +an indulgent smile. “But we have learnt to be patient, after long +experience.” +</p> + +<p> +He proceeded to discuss with Guerchard the new theories with which the +discovery of the afternoon had filled his mind. None of them struck the Duke as +being of great value, and he listened to them with a somewhat absent-minded +air. The coming examination of Sonia weighed heavily on his spirit. Guerchard +answered only in monosyllables to the questions and suggestions thrown out by +M. Formery. It seemed to the Duke that he paid very little attention to him, +that his mind was still working hard on the solution of the mystery, seeking +the missing facts which would bring him to the bottom of it. In the middle of +one of M. Formery’s more elaborate dissertations the telephone bell rang. +</p> + +<p> +Guerchard rose hastily and went to it. They heard him say: “Is that +Charmerace? ... I want the gardener.... Out? When will he be back? ... Tell him +to ring me up at M. Gournay-Martin’s house in Paris the moment he gets +back.... Detective-Inspector Guerchard ... Guerchard ... +Detective-Inspector.” +</p> + +<p> +He turned to them with a frown, and said, “Of course, since I want him, +the confounded gardener has gone out for the day. Still, it’s of very +little importance—a mere corroboration I wanted.” And he went back +to his seat and lighted another cigarette. +</p> + +<p> +M. Formery continued his dissertation. Presently Guerchard said, “You +might go and see how Victoire is, inspector—whether she shows any signs +of waking. What did the doctor say?” +</p> + +<p> +“The doctor said that she would not really be sensible and have her full +wits about her much before ten o’clock to-night,” said the +inspector; but he went to examine her present condition. +</p> + +<p> +M. Formery proceeded to discuss the effects of different anesthetics. The +others heard him with very little attention. +</p> + +<p> +The inspector came back and reported that Victoire showed no signs of awaking. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, then, M. Formery, I think we might get on with the examination of +Mademoiselle Kritchnoff,” said Guerchard. “Will you go and fetch +her, inspector?” +</p> + +<p> +“Really, I cannot conceive why you should worry that poor child,” +the Duke protested, in a tone of some indignation. +</p> + +<p> +“It seems to me hardly necessary,” said M. Formery. +</p> + +<p> +“Excuse me,” said Guerchard suavely, “but I attach +considerable importance to it. It seems to me to be our bounden duty to +question her fully. One never knows from what quarter light may come.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, well, since you make such a point of it,” said M. Formery. +“Inspector, ask Mademoiselle Kritchnoff to come here. Fetch her.” +</p> + +<p> +The inspector left the room. +</p> + +<p> +Guerchard looked at the Duke with a faint air of uneasiness: “I think +that we had better question Mademoiselle Kritchnoff by ourselves,” he +said. +</p> + +<p> +M. Formery looked at him and hesitated. Then he said: “Oh, yes, of +course, by ourselves.” +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly,” said the Duke, a trifle haughtily. And he rose and +opened the door. He was just going through it when Guerchard said sharply: +</p> + +<p> +“Your Grace—” +</p> + +<p> +The Duke paid no attention to him. He shut the door quickly behind him and +sprang swiftly up the stairs. He met the inspector coming down with Sonia. +Barring their way for a moment he said, in his kindliest voice: “Now you +mustn’t be frightened, Mademoiselle Sonia. All you have to do is to try +to remember as clearly as you can the circumstances of the earlier thefts at +Charmerace. You mustn’t let them confuse you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you, your Grace, I will try and be as clear as I can,” said +Sonia; and she gave him an eloquent glance, full of gratitude for the warning; +and went down the stairs with firm steps. +</p> + +<p> +The Duke went on up the stairs, and knocked softly at the door of M. +Gournay-Martin’s bedroom. There was no answer to his knock, and he +quietly opened the door and looked in. Overcome by his misfortunes, the +millionaire had sunk into a profound sleep and was snoring softly. The Duke +stepped inside the room, left the door open a couple of inches, drew a chair to +it, and sat down watching the staircase through the opening of the door. +</p> + +<p> +He sat frowning, with a look of profound pity on his face. Once the suspense +grew too much for him. He rose and walked up and down the room. His well-bred +calm seemed to have deserted him. He muttered curses on Guerchard, M. Formery, +and the whole French criminal system, very softly, under his breath. His face +was distorted to a mask of fury; and once he wiped the little beads of sweat +from his forehead with his handkerchief. Then he recovered himself, sat down in +the chair, and resumed his watch on the stairs. +</p> + +<p> +At last, at the end of half an hour, which had seemed to him months long, he +heard voices. The drawing-room door shut, and there were footsteps on the +stairs. The inspector and Sonia came into view. +</p> + +<p> +He waited till they were at the top of the stairs: then he came out of the +room, with his most careless air, and said: “Well, Mademoiselle Sonia, I +hope you did not find it so very dreadful, after all.” +</p> + +<p> +She was very pale, and there were undried tears on her cheeks. “It was +horrible,” she said faintly. “Horrible. M. Formery was all +right—he believed me; but that horrible detective would not believe a +word I said. He confused me. I hardly knew what I was saying.” +</p> + +<p> +The Duke ground his teeth softly. “Never mind, it’s over now. You +had better lie down and rest. I will tell one of the servants to bring you up a +glass of wine.” +</p> + +<p> +He walked with her to the door of her room, and said: “Try to +sleep—sleep away the unpleasant memory.” +</p> + +<p> +She went into her room, and the Duke went downstairs and told the butler to +take a glass of champagne up to her. Then he went upstairs to the drawing-room. +M. Formery was at the table writing. Guerchard stood beside him. He handed what +he had written to Guerchard, and, with a smile of satisfaction, Guerchard +folded the paper and put it in his pocket. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, M. Formery, did Mademoiselle Kritchnoff throw any fresh light on +this mystery?” said the Duke, in a tone of faint contempt. +</p> + +<p> +“No—in fact she convinced ME that she knew nothing whatever about +it. M. Guerchard seems to entertain a different opinion. But I think that even +he is convinced that Mademoiselle Kritchnoff is not a friend of Arsène +Lupin.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, well, perhaps she isn’t. But there’s no telling,” +said Guerchard slowly. +</p> + +<p> +“Arsène Lupin?” cried the Duke. “Surely you never thought +that Mademoiselle Kritchnoff had anything to do with Arsène Lupin?” +</p> + +<p> +“I never thought so,” said M. Formery. “But when one has a +fixed idea ... well, one has a fixed idea.” He shrugged his shoulders, +and looked at Guerchard with contemptuous eyes. +</p> + +<p> +The Duke laughed, an unaffected ringing laugh, but not a pleasant one: +“It’s absurd!” he cried. +</p> + +<p> +“There are always those thefts,” said Guerchard, with a nettled +air. +</p> + +<p> +“You have nothing to go upon,” said M. Formery. “What if she +did enter the service of Mademoiselle Gournay-Martin just before the thefts +began? Besides, after this lapse of time, if she had committed the thefts, +you’d find it a job to bring them home to her. It’s not a job worth +your doing, anyhow—it’s a job for an ordinary detective, +Guerchard.” +</p> + +<p> +“There’s always the pendant,” said Guerchard. “I am +convinced that that pendant is in the house.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, that stupid pendant! I wish I’d never given it to Mademoiselle +Gournay-Martin,” said the Duke lightly. +</p> + +<p> +“I have a feeling that if I could lay my hand on that pendant—if I +could find who has it, I should have the key to this mystery.” +</p> + +<p> +“The devil you would!” said the Duke softly. “That is odd. It +is the oddest thing about this business I’ve heard yet.” +</p> + +<p> +“I have that feeling—I have that feeling,” said Guerchard +quietly. +</p> + +<p> +The Duke smiled. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap16"></a>CHAPTER XVI<br/> +VICTOIRE’S SLIP</h2> + +<p> +They were silent. The Duke walked to the fireplace, stepped into it, and +studied the opening. He came out again and said: “Oh, by the way, M. +Formery, the policeman at the front door wanted to stop me going out of the +house when I went home to change. I take it that M. Guerchard’s +prohibition does not apply to me?” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course not—of course not, your Grace,” said M. Formery +quickly. +</p> + +<p> +“I saw that you had changed your clothes, your Grace,” said +Guerchard. “I thought that you had done it here.” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” said the Duke, “I went home. The policeman protested; +but he went no further, so I did not throw him into the middle of the +street.” +</p> + +<p> +“Whatever our station, we should respect the law,” said M. Formery +solemnly. +</p> + +<p> +“The Republican Law, M. Formery? I am a Royalist,” said the Duke, +smiling at him. +</p> + +<p> +M. Formery shook his head sadly. +</p> + +<p> +“I was wondering,” said the Duke, “about M. Guerchard’s +theory that the burglars were let in the front door of this house by an +accomplice. Why, when they had this beautiful large opening, did they want a +front door, too?” +</p> + +<p> +“I did not know that that was Guerchard’s theory?” said M. +Formery, a trifle contemptuously. “Of course they had no need to use the +front door.” +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps they had no need to use the front door,” said Guerchard; +“but, after all, the front door was unbolted, and they did not draw the +bolts to put us off the scent. Their false scent was already +prepared”—he waved his hand towards the +window—“moreover, you must bear in mind that that opening might not +have been made when they entered the house. Suppose that, while they were on +the other side of the wall, a brick had fallen on to the hearth, and alarmed +the concierge. We don’t know how skilful they are; they might not have +cared to risk it. I’m inclined to think, on the whole, that they did come +in through the front door.” +</p> + +<p> +M. Formery sniffed contemptuously. +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps you’re right,” said the Duke. “But the +accomplice?” +</p> + +<p> +“I think we shall know more about the accomplice when Victoire +awakes,” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“The family have such confidence in Victoire,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps Lupin has, too,” said Guerchard grimly. +</p> + +<p> +“Always Lupin!” said M. Formery contemptuously. +</p> + +<p> +There came a knock at the door, and a footman appeared on the threshold. He +informed the Duke that Germaine had returned from her shopping expedition, and +was awaiting him in her boudoir. He went to her, and tried to persuade her to +put in a word for Sonia, and endeavour to soften Guerchard’s rigour. +</p> + +<p> +She refused to do anything of the kind, declaring that, in view of the value of +the stolen property, no stone must be left unturned to recover it. The police +knew what they were doing; they must have a free hand. The Duke did not press +her with any great vigour; he realized the futility of an appeal to a nature so +shallow, so self-centred, and so lacking in sympathy. He took his revenge by +teasing her about the wedding presents which were still flowing in. Her +father’s business friends were still striving to outdo one another in the +costliness of the jewelry they were giving her. The great houses of the +Faubourg Saint-Germain were still refraining firmly from anything that savoured +of extravagance or ostentation. While he was with her the eleventh paper-knife +came—from his mother’s friend, the Duchess of Veauléglise. The Duke +was overwhelmed with joy at the sight of it, and his delighted comments drove +Germaine to the last extremity of exasperation. The result was that she begged +him, with petulant asperity, to get out of her sight. +</p> + +<p> +He complied with her request, almost with alacrity, and returned to M. Formery +and Guerchard. He found them at a standstill, waiting for reports from the +detectives who were hunting outside the house for information about the +movements of the burglars with the stolen booty, and apparently finding none. +The police were also hunting for the stolen motor-cars, not only in Paris and +its environs, but also all along the road between Paris and Charmerace. +</p> + +<p> +At about five o’clock Guerchard grew tired of the inaction, and went out +himself to assist his subordinates, leaving M. Formery in charge of the house +itself. He promised to be back by half-past seven, to let the examining +magistrate, who had an engagement for the evening, get away. The Duke spent his +time between the drawing-room, where M. Formery entertained him with anecdotes +of his professional skill, and the boudoir, where Germaine was entertaining +envious young friends who came to see her wedding presents. The friends of +Germaine were always a little ill at ease in the society of the Duke, belonging +as they did to that wealthy middle class which has made France what she is. His +indifference to the doings of the old friends of his family saddened them; and +they were unable to understand his airy and persistent trifling. It seemed to +them a discord in the cosmic tune. +</p> + +<p> +The afternoon wore away, and at half-past seven Guerchard had not returned. M. +Formery waited for him, fuming, for ten minutes, then left the house in charge +of the inspector, and went off to his engagement. M. Gournay-Martin was +entertaining two financiers and their wives, two of their daughters, and two +friends of the Duke, the Baron de Vernan and the Comte de Vauvineuse, at dinner +that night. Thanks to the Duke, the party was of a liveliness to which the +gorgeous dining-room had been very little used since it had been so fortunate +as to become the property of M. Gournay-Martin. +</p> + +<p> +The millionaire had been looking forward to an evening of luxurious woe, +deploring the loss of his treasures—giving their prices—to his +sympathetic friends. The Duke had other views; and they prevailed. After dinner +the guests went to the smoking-room, since the drawing-rooms were in possession +of Guerchard. Soon after ten the Duke slipped away from them, and went to the +detective. Guerchard’s was not a face at any time full of expression, and +all that the Duke saw on it was a subdued dulness. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, M. Guerchard,” he said cheerfully, “what luck? Have +any of your men come across any traces of the passage of the burglars with +their booty?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, your Grace; so far, all the luck has been with the burglars. For all +that any one seems to have seen them, they might have vanished into the bowels +of the earth through the floor of the cellars in the empty house next door. +That means that they were very quick loading whatever vehicle they used with +their plunder. I should think, myself, that they first carried everything from +this house down into the hall of the house next door; and then, of course, they +could be very quick getting them from hall to their van, or whatever it was. +But still, some one saw that van—saw it drive up to the house, or waiting +at the house, or driving away from it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is M. Formery coming back?” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“Not to-night,” said Guerchard. “The affair is in my hands +now; and I have my own men on it—men of some intelligence, or, at any +rate, men who know my ways, and how I want things done.” +</p> + +<p> +“It must be a relief,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, no, I’m used to M. Formery—to all the examining +magistrates in Paris, and in most of the big provincial towns. They do not +really hamper me; and often I get an idea from them; for some of them are men +of real intelligence.” +</p> + +<p> +“And others are not: I understand,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +The door opened and Bonavent, the detective, came in. +</p> + +<p> +“The housekeeper’s awake, M. Guerchard,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +“Good, bring her down here,” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps you’d like me to go,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, no,” said Guerchard. “If it would interest you to hear +me question her, please stay.” +</p> + +<p> +Bonavent left the room. The Duke sat down in an easy chair, and Guerchard stood +before the fireplace. +</p> + +<p> +“M. Formery told me, when you were out this afternoon, that he believed +this housekeeper to be quite innocent,” said the Duke idly. +</p> + +<p> +“There is certainly one innocent in this affair,” said Guerchard, +grinning. +</p> + +<p> +“Who is that?” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“The examining magistrate,” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +The door opened, and Bonavent brought Victoire in. She was a big, middle-aged +woman, with a pleasant, cheerful, ruddy face, black-haired, with sparkling +brown eyes, which did not seem to have been at all dimmed by her long, drugged +sleep. She looked like a well-to-do farmer’s wife, a buxom, good-natured, +managing woman. +</p> + +<p> +As soon as she came into the room, she said quickly: +</p> + +<p> +“I wish, Mr. Inspector, your man would have given me time to put on a +decent dress. I must have been sleeping in this one ever since those rascals +tied me up and put that smelly handkerchief over my face. I never saw such a +nasty-looking crew as they were in my life.” +</p> + +<p> +“How many were there, Madame Victoire?” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Dozens! The house was just swarming with them. I heard the noise; I came +downstairs; and on the landing outside the door here, one of them jumped on me +from behind and nearly choked me—to prevent me from screaming, I +suppose.” +</p> + +<p> +“And they were a nasty-looking crew, were they?” said Guerchard. +“Did you see their faces?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, I wish I had! I should know them again if I had; but they were all +masked,” said Victoire. +</p> + +<p> +“Sit down, Madame Victoire. There’s no need to tire you,” +said Guerchard. And she sat down on a chair facing him. +</p> + +<p> +“Let’s see, you sleep in one of the top rooms, Madame Victoire. It +has a dormer window, set in the roof, hasn’t it?” said Guerchard, +in the same polite, pleasant voice. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; yes. But what has that got to do with it?” said Victoire. +</p> + +<p> +“Please answer my questions,” said Guerchard sharply. “You +went to sleep in your room. Did you hear any noise on the roof?” +</p> + +<p> +“On the roof? How should I hear it on the roof? There wouldn’t be +any noise on the roof,” said Victoire. +</p> + +<p> +“You heard nothing on the roof?” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“No; the noise I heard was down here,” said Victoire. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, and you came down to see what was making it. And you were seized +from behind on the landing, and brought in here,” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, that’s right,” said Madame Victoire. +</p> + +<p> +“And were you tied up and gagged on the landing, or in here?” said +Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I was caught on the landing, and pushed in here, and then tied +up,” said Victoire. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m sure that wasn’t one man’s job,” said +Guerchard, looking at her vigorous figure with admiring eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“You may be sure of that,” said Victoire. “It took four of +them; and at least two of them have some nice bruises on their shins to show +for it.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m sure they have. And it serves them jolly well right,” +said Guerchard, in a tone of warm approval. “And, I suppose, while those +four were tying you up the others stood round and looked on.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, no, they were far too busy for that,” said Victoire. +</p> + +<p> +“What were they doing?” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“They were taking the pictures off the walls and carrying them out of the +window down the ladder,” said Victoire. +</p> + +<p> +Guerchard’s eyes flickered towards the Duke, but the expression of +earnest inquiry on his face never changed. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, tell me, did the man who took a picture from the walls carry it +down the ladder himself, or did he hand it through the window to a man who was +standing on the top of a ladder ready to receive it?” he said. +</p> + +<p> +Victoire paused as if to recall their action; then she said, “Oh, he got +through the window, and carried it down the ladder himself.” +</p> + +<p> +“You’re sure of that?” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, yes, I am quite sure of it—why should I deceive you, Mr. +Inspector?” said Victoire quickly; and the Duke saw the first shadow of +uneasiness on her face. +</p> + +<p> +“Of course not,” said Guerchard. “And where were you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, they put me behind the screen.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, no, where were you when you came into the room?” +</p> + +<p> +“I was against the door,” said Victoire. +</p> + +<p> +“And where was the screen?” said Guerchard. “Was it before +the fireplace?” +</p> + +<p> +“No; it was on one side—the left-hand side,” said Victoire. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, will you show me exactly where it stood?” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +Victoire rose, and, Guerchard aiding her, set the screen on the left-hand side +of the fireplace. +</p> + +<p> +Guerchard stepped back and looked at it. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, this is very important,” he said. “I must have the +exact position of the four feet of that screen. Let’s see ... some chalk +... of course.... You do some dressmaking, don’t you, Madame +Victoire?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, yes, I sometimes make a dress for one of the maids in my spare +time,” said Victoire. +</p> + +<p> +“Then you’ve got a piece of chalk on you,” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, yes,” said Victoire, putting her hand to the pocket of her +dress. +</p> + +<p> +She paused, took a step backwards, and looked wildly round the room, while the +colour slowly faded in her ruddy cheeks. +</p> + +<p> +“What am I talking about?” she said in an uncertain, shaky voice. +“I haven’t any chalk—I—ran out of chalk the day before +yesterday.” +</p> + +<p> +“I think you have, Madame Victoire. Feel in your pocket and see,” +said Guerchard sternly. His voice had lost its suavity; his face its smile: his +eyes had grown dangerous. +</p> + +<p> +“No, no; I have no chalk,” cried Victoire. +</p> + +<p> +With a sudden leap Guerchard sprang upon her, caught her in a firm grip with +his right arm, and his left hand plunged into her pocket. +</p> + +<p> +“Let me go! Let me go! You’re hurting,” she cried. +</p> + +<p> +Guerchard loosed her and stepped back. +</p> + +<p> +“What’s this?” he said; and he held up between his thumb and +forefinger a piece of blue chalk. +</p> + +<p> +Victoire drew herself up and faced him gallantly: “Well, what of +it?—it is chalk. Mayn’t an honest woman carry chalk in her pockets +without being insulted and pulled about by every policeman she comes +across?” she cried. +</p> + +<p> +“That will be for the examining magistrate to decide,” said +Guerchard; and he went to the door and called Bonavent. Bonavent came in, and +Guerchard said: “When the prison van comes, put this woman in it; and +send her down to the station.” +</p> + +<p> +“But what have I done?” cried Victoire. “I’m innocent! +I declare I’m innocent. I’ve done nothing at all. It’s not a +crime to carry a piece of chalk in one’s pocket.” +</p> + +<p> +“Now, that’s a matter for the examining magistrate. You can explain +it to him,” said Guerchard. “I’ve got nothing to do with it: +so it’s no good making a fuss now. Do go quietly, there’s a good +woman.” +</p> + +<p> +He spoke in a quiet, business-like tone. Victoire looked him in the eyes, then +drew herself up, and went quietly out of the room. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap17"></a>CHAPTER XVII<br/> +SONIA’S ESCAPE</h2> + +<p> +“One of M. Formery’s innocents,” said Guerchard, turning to +the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“The chalk?” said the Duke. “Is it the same chalk?” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s blue,” said Guerchard, holding it out. “The same +as that of the signatures on the walls. Add that fact to the woman’s +sudden realization of what she was doing, and you’ll see that they were +written with it.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is rather a surprise,” said the Duke. “To look at her you +would think that she was the most honest woman in the world.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, you don’t know Lupin, your Grace,” said Guerchard. +“He can do anything with women; and they’ll do anything for him. +And, what’s more, as far as I can see, it doesn’t make a scrap of +difference whether they’re honest or not. The fair-haired lady I was +telling you about was probably an honest woman; Ganimard is sure of it. We +should have found out long ago who she was if she had been a wrong ’un. +And Ganimard also swears that when he arrested Lupin on board the <i>Provence</i> some +woman, some ordinary, honest woman among the passengers, carried away Lady +Garland’s jewels, which he had stolen and was bringing to America, and +along with them a matter of eight hundred pounds which he had stolen from a +fellow-passenger on the voyage.” +</p> + +<p> +“That power of fascination which some men exercise on women is one of +those mysteries which science should investigate before it does anything +else,” said the Duke, in a reflective tone. “Now I come to think of +it, I had much better have spent my time on that investigation than on that +tedious journey to the South Pole. All the same, I’m deucedly sorry for +that woman, Victoire. She looks such a good soul.” +</p> + +<p> +Guerchard shrugged his shoulders: “The prisons are full of good +souls,” he said, with cynical wisdom born of experience. “They get +caught so much more often than the bad.” +</p> + +<p> +“It seems rather mean of Lupin to make use of women like this, and get +them into trouble,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“But he doesn’t,” said Guerchard quickly. “At least he +hasn’t up to now. This Victoire is the first we’ve caught. I look +on it as a good omen.” +</p> + +<p> +He walked across the room, picked up his cloak, and took a card-case from the +inner pocket of it. “If you don’t mind, your Grace, I want you to +show this permit to my men who are keeping the door, whenever you go out of the +house. It’s just a formality; but I attach considerable importance to it, +for I really ought not to make exceptions in favour of any one. I have two men +at the door, and they have orders to let nobody out without my written +permission. Of course M. Gournay-Martin’s guests are different. Bonavent +has orders to pass them out. And, if your Grace doesn’t mind, it will +help me. If you carry a permit, no one else will dream of complaining of having +to do so.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I don’t mind, if it’s of any help to you,” said +the Duke cheerfully. +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you,” said Guerchard. And he wrote on his card and handed it +to the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +The Duke took it and looked at it. On it was written: +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +“Pass the Duke of Charmerace.”<br/> +“J. GUERCHARD.” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s quite military,” said the Duke, putting the card into +his waistcoat pocket. +</p> + +<p> +There came a knock at the door, and a tall, thin, bearded man came into the +room. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, Dieusy! At last! What news?” cried Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +Dieusy saluted: “I’ve learnt that a motor-van was waiting outside +the next house—in the side street,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +“At what time?” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Between four and five in the morning,” said Dieusy. +</p> + +<p> +“Who saw it?” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“A scavenger. He thinks that it was nearly five o’clock when the +van drove off.” +</p> + +<p> +“Between four and five—nearly five. Then they filled up the opening +before they loaded the van. I thought they would,” said Guerchard, +thoughtfully. “Anything else?” +</p> + +<p> +“A few minutes after the van had gone a man in motoring dress came out of +the house,” said Dieusy. +</p> + +<p> +“In motoring dress?” said Guerchard quickly. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. And a little way from the house he threw away his cigarette. The +scavenger thought the whole business a little queer, and he picked up the +cigarette and kept it. Here it is.” +</p> + +<p> +He handed it to Guerchard, whose eyes scanned it carelessly and then glued +themselves to it. +</p> + +<p> +“A gold-tipped cigarette ... marked Mercedes ... Why, your Grace, this is +one of your cigarettes!” +</p> + +<p> +“But this is incredible!” cried the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“Not at all,” said Guerchard. “It’s merely another link +in the chain. I’ve no doubt you have some of these cigarettes at +Charmerace.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, yes, I’ve had a box on most of the tables,” said the +Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, there you are,” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I see what you’re driving at,” said the Duke. “You +mean that one of the Charolais must have taken a box.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, we know that they’d hardly stick at a box of +cigarettes,” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes ... but I thought ...” said the Duke; and he paused. +</p> + +<p> +“You thought what?” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Then Lupin ... since it was Lupin who managed the business last +night—since you found those salvias in the house next door ... then Lupin +came from Charmerace.” +</p> + +<p> +“Evidently,” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“And Lupin is one of the Charolais.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, that’s another matter,” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“But it’s certain, absolutely certain,” said the Duke. +“We have the connecting links ... the salvias ... this cigarette.” +</p> + +<p> +“It looks very like it. You’re pretty quick on a scent, I must +say,” said Guerchard. “What a detective you would have made! Only +... nothing is certain.” +</p> + +<p> +“But it IS. Whatever more do you want? Was he at Charmerace yesterday, or +was he not? Did he, or did he not, arrange the theft of the motor-cars?” +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly he did. But he himself might have remained in the background +all the while,” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“In what shape? ... Under what mask? ... By Jove, I should like to see +this fellow!” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“We shall see him to-night,” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“To-night?” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“Of course we shall; for he will come to steal the coronet between a +quarter to twelve and midnight,” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Never!” said the Duke. “You don’t really believe that +he’ll have the cheek to attempt such a mad act?” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, you don’t know this man, your Grace ... his extraordinary +mixture of coolness and audacity. It’s the danger that attracts him. He +throws himself into the fire, and he doesn’t get burnt. For the last ten +years I’ve been saying to myself, ‘Here we are: this time +I’ve got him! ... At last I’m going to nab him.’ But +I’ve said that day after day,” said Guerchard; and he paused. +</p> + +<p> +“Well?” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, the days pass; and I never nab him. Oh, he is thick, I tell +you.... He’s a joker, he is ... a regular artist”—he ground +his teeth—“The damned thief!” +</p> + +<p> +The Duke looked at him, and said slowly, “Then you think that to-night +Lupin—” +</p> + +<p> +“You’ve followed the scent with me, your Grace,” Guerchard +interrupted quickly and vehemently. “We’ve picked up each clue +together. You’ve almost seen this man at work.... You’ve understood +him. Isn’t a man like this, I ask you, capable of anything?” +</p> + +<p> +“He is,” said the Duke, with conviction. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, then,” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps you’re right,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +Guerchard turned to Dieusy and said, in a quieter voice, “And when the +scavenger had picked up the cigarette, did he follow the motorist?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, he followed him for about a hundred yards. He went down into Sureau +Street, and turned westwards. Then a motor-car came along; he got into it, and +went off.” +</p> + +<p> +“What kind of a motor-car?” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“A big car, and dark red in colour,” said Dieusy. +</p> + +<p> +“The Limousine!” cried the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s all I’ve got so far, sir,” said Dieusy. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, off you go,” said Guerchard. “Now that you’ve +got started, you’ll probably get something else before very long.” +</p> + +<p> +Dieusy saluted and went. +</p> + +<p> +“Things are beginning to move,” said Guerchard cheerfully. +“First Victoire, and now this motor-van.” +</p> + +<p> +“They are indeed,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“After all, it ought not to be very difficult to trace that +motor-van,” said Guerchard, in a musing tone. “At any rate, its +movements ought to be easy enough to follow up till about six. Then, of course, +there would be a good many others about, delivering goods.” +</p> + +<p> +“You seem to have all the possible information you can want at your +finger-ends,” said the Duke, in an admiring tone. +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose I know the life of Paris as well as anybody,” said +Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +They were silent for a while. Then Germaine’s maid, Irma, came into the +room and said: +</p> + +<p> +“If you please, your Grace, Mademoiselle Kritchnoff would like to speak +to you for a moment.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh? Where is she?” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“She’s in her room, your Grace.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, very well, I’ll go up to her,” said the Duke. “I +can speak to her in the library.” +</p> + +<p> +He rose and was going towards the door when Guerchard stepped forward, barring +his way, and said, “No, your Grace.” +</p> + +<p> +“No? Why?” said the Duke haughtily. +</p> + +<p> +“I beg you will wait a minute or two till I’ve had a word with +you,” said Guerchard; and he drew a folded sheet of paper from his pocket +and held it up. +</p> + +<p> +The Duke looked at Guerchard’s face, and he looked at the paper in his +hand; then he said: “Oh, very well.” And, turning to Irma, he added +quietly, “Tell Mademoiselle Kritchnoff that I’m in the +drawing-room.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, your Grace, in the drawing-room,” said Irma; and she turned +to go. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; and say that I shall be engaged for the next five minutes—the +next five minutes, do you understand?” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, your Grace,” said Irma; and she went out of the door. +</p> + +<p> +“Ask Mademoiselle Kritchnoff to put on her hat and cloak,” said +Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, sir,” said Irma; and she went. +</p> + +<p> +The Duke turned sharply on Guerchard, and said: “Now, why on earth? ... I +don’t understand.” +</p> + +<p> +“I got this from M. Formery,” said Guerchard, holding up the paper. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” said the Duke. “What is it?” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s a warrant, your Grace,” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“What! ... A warrant! ... Not for the arrest of Mademoiselle +Kritchnoff?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, come, it’s impossible,” said the Duke. +“You’re never going to arrest that child?” +</p> + +<p> +“I am, indeed,” said Guerchard. “Her examination this +afternoon was in the highest degree unsatisfactory. Her answers were +embarrassed, contradictory, and in every way suspicious.” +</p> + +<p> +“And you’ve made up your mind to arrest her?” said the Duke +slowly, knitting his brow in anxious thought. +</p> + +<p> +“I have, indeed,” said Guerchard. “And I’m going to do +it now. The prison van ought to be waiting at the door.” He looked at his +watch. “She and Victoire can go together.” +</p> + +<p> +“So ... you’re going to arrest her ... you’re going to arrest +her?” said the Duke thoughtfully: and he took a step or two up and down +the room, still thinking hard. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, you understand the position, don’t you, your Grace?” +said Guerchard, in a tone of apology. “Believe me that, personally, +I’ve no animosity against Mademoiselle Kritchnoff. In fact, the child +attracts me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said the Duke softly, in a musing tone. “She has the +air of a child who has lost its way ... lost its way in life.... And that poor +little hiding-place she found ... that rolled-up handkerchief ... thrown down +in the corner of the little room in the house next door ... it was absolutely +absurd.” +</p> + +<p> +“What! A handkerchief!” cried Guerchard, with an air of sudden, +utter surprise. +</p> + +<p> +“The child’s clumsiness is positively pitiful,” said the +Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“What was in the handkerchief? ... The pearls of the pendant?” +cried Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes: I supposed you knew all about it. Of course M. Formery left word +for you,” said the Duke, with an air of surprise at the ignorance of the +detective. +</p> + +<p> +“No: I’ve heard nothing about it,” cried Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“He didn’t leave word for you?” said the Duke, in a tone of +greater surprise. “Oh, well, I dare say that he thought to-morrow would +do. Of course you were out of the house when he found it. She must have slipped +out of her room soon after you went.” +</p> + +<p> +“He found a handkerchief belonging to Mademoiselle Kritchnoff. Where is +it?” cried Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“M. Formery took the pearls, but he left the handkerchief. I suppose +it’s in the corner where he found it,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“He left the handkerchief?” cried Guerchard. “If that +isn’t just like the fool! He ought to keep hens; it’s all +he’s fit for!” +</p> + +<p> +He ran to the fireplace, seized the lantern, and began lighting it: +“Where is the handkerchief?” he cried. +</p> + +<p> +“In the left-hand corner of the little room on the right on the second +floor. But if you’re going to arrest Mademoiselle Kritchnoff, why are you +bothering about the handkerchief? It can’t be of any importance,” +said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“I beg your pardon,” said Guerchard. “But it is.” +</p> + +<p> +“But why?” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“I was arresting Mademoiselle Kritchnoff all right because I had a very +strong presumption of her guilt. But I hadn’t the slightest proof of +it,” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“What?” cried the Duke, in a horrified tone. +</p> + +<p> +“No, you’ve just given me the proof; and since she was able to hide +the pearls in the house next door, she knew the road which led to it. Therefore +she’s an accomplice,” said Guerchard, in a triumphant tone. +</p> + +<p> +“What? Do you think that, too?” cried the Duke. “Good +Heavens! And it’s me! ... It’s my senselessness! ... It’s my +fault that you’ve got your proof!” He spoke in a tone of acute +distress. +</p> + +<p> +“It was your duty to give it me,” said Guerchard sternly; and he +began to mount the steps. +</p> + +<p> +“Shall I come with you? I know where the handkerchief is,” said the +Duke quickly. +</p> + +<p> +“No, thank you, your Grace,” said Guerchard. “I prefer to go +alone.” +</p> + +<p> +“You’d better let me help you,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“No, your Grace,” said Guerchard firmly. +</p> + +<p> +“I must really insist,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“No—no—no,” said Guerchard vehemently, with stern +decision. “It’s no use your insisting, your Grace; I prefer to go +alone. I shall only be gone a minute or two.” +</p> + +<p> +“Just as you like,” said the Duke stiffly. +</p> + +<p> +The legs of Guerchard disappeared up the steps. The Duke stood listening with +all his ears. Directly he heard the sound of Guerchard’s heels on the +floor, when he dropped from the chimney-piece of the next room, he went swiftly +to the door, opened it, and went out. Bonavent was sitting on the chair on +which the young policeman had sat during the afternoon. Sonia, in her hat and +cloak, was half-way down the stairs. +</p> + +<p> +The Duke put his head inside the drawing-room door, and said to the empty room: +“Here is Mademoiselle Kritchnoff, M. Guerchard.” He held open the +door, Sonia came down the stairs, and went through it. The Duke followed her +into the drawing-room, and shut the door. +</p> + +<p> +“There’s not a moment to lose,” he said in a low voice. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, what is it, your Grace?” said Sonia anxiously. +</p> + +<p> +“Guerchard has a warrant for your arrest.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then I’m lost!” cried Sonia, in a panic-stricken voice. +</p> + +<p> +“No, you’re not. You must go—at once,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“But how can I go? No one can get out of the house. M. Guerchard +won’t let them,” cried Sonia, panic-stricken. +</p> + +<p> +“We can get over that,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +He ran to Guerchard’s cloak, took the card-case from the inner pocket, +went to the writing-table, and sat down. He took from his waist-coat pocket the +permit which Guerchard had given him, and a pencil. Then he took a card from +the card-case, set the permit on the table before him, and began to imitate +Guerchard’s handwriting with an amazing exactness. He wrote on the card: +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +“Pass Mademoiselle Kritchnoff.”<br/> +“J. GUERCHARD.” +</p> + +<p> +Sonia stood by his side, panting quickly with fear, and watched him do it. He +had scarcely finished the last stroke, when they heard a noise on the other +side of the opening into the empty house. The Duke looked at the fireplace, and +his teeth bared in an expression of cold ferocity. He rose with clenched fists, +and took a step towards the fireplace. +</p> + +<p> +“Your Grace? Your Grace?” called the voice of Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“What is it?” answered the Duke quietly. +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t see any handkerchief,” said Guerchard. +“Didn’t you say it was in the left-hand corner of the little room +on the right?” +</p> + +<p> +“I told you you’d better let me come with you, and find it,” +said the Duke, in a tone of triumph. “It’s in the right-hand corner +of the little room on the left.” +</p> + +<p> +“I could have sworn you said the little room on the right,” said +Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +They heard his footfalls die away. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, you must get out of the house quickly.” said the Duke. +“Show this card to the detectives at the door, and they’ll pass you +without a word.” +</p> + +<p> +He pressed the card into her hand. +</p> + +<p> +“But—but—this card?” stammered Sonia. +</p> + +<p> +“There’s no time to lose,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“But this is madness,” said Sonia. “When Guerchard finds out +about this card—that you—you—” +</p> + +<p> +“There’s no need to bother about that,” interrupted the Duke +quickly. “Where are you going to?” +</p> + +<p> +“A little hotel near the Star. I’ve forgotten the name of +it,” said Sonia. “But this card—” +</p> + +<p> +“Has it a telephone?” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes—No. 555, Central,” said Sonia. +</p> + +<p> +“If I haven’t telephoned to you before half-past eight to-morrow +morning, come straight to my house,” said the Duke, scribbling the +telephone number on his shirt-cuff. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, yes,” said Sonia. “But this card.... When Guerchard +knows ... when he discovers.... Oh, I can’t let you get into trouble for +me.” +</p> + +<p> +“I shan’t. But go—go,” said the Duke, and he slipped +his right arm round her and drew her to the door. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, how good you are to me,” said Sonia softly. +</p> + +<p> +The Duke’s other arm went round her; he drew her to him, and their lips +met. +</p> + +<p> +He loosed her, and opened the door, saying loudly: “You’re sure you +won’t have a cab, Mademoiselle Kritchnoff?” +</p> + +<p> +“No; no, thank you, your Grace. Goodnight,” said Sonia. And she +went through the door with a transfigured face. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap18"></a>CHAPTER XVIII<br/> +THE DUKE STAYS</h2> + +<p> +The Duke shut the door and leant against it, listening anxiously, breathing +quickly. There came the bang of the front door. With a deep sigh of relief he +left the door, came briskly, smiling, across the room, and put the card-case +back into the pocket of Guerchard’s cloak. He lighted a cigarette, +dropped into an easy chair, and sat waiting with an entirely careless air for +the detective’s return. Presently he heard quick footsteps on the bare +boards of the empty room beyond the opening. Then Guerchard came down the steps +and out of the fireplace. +</p> + +<p> +His face wore an expression of extreme perplexity: +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t understand it,” he said. “I found +nothing.” +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing?” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“No. Are you sure you saw the handkerchief in one of those little rooms +on the second floor—quite sure?” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Of course I did,” said the Duke. “Isn’t it +there?” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“You can’t have looked properly,” said the Duke, with a touch +of irony in his voice. “If I were you, I should go back and look +again.” +</p> + +<p> +“No. If I’ve looked for a thing, I’ve looked for it. +There’s no need for me to look a second time. But, all the same, +it’s rather funny. Doesn’t it strike you as being rather funny, +your Grace?” said Guerchard, with a worried air. +</p> + +<p> +“It strikes me as being uncommonly funny,” said the Duke, with an +ambiguous smile. +</p> + +<p> +Guerchard looked at him with a sudden uneasiness; then he rang the bell. +</p> + +<p> +Bonavent came into the room. +</p> + +<p> +“Mademoiselle Kritchnoff, Bonavent. It’s quite time,” said +Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Mademoiselle Kritchnoff?” said Bonavent, with an air of surprise. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, it’s time that she was taken to the police-station.” +</p> + +<p> +“Mademoiselle Kritchnoff has gone, sir,” said Bonavent, in a tone +of quiet remonstrance. +</p> + +<p> +“Gone? What do you mean by gone?” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Gone, sir, gone!” said Bonavent patiently. +</p> + +<p> +“But you’re mad.... Mad!” cried Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“No, I’m not mad,” said Bonavent. “Gone! But who let +her go?” cried Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“The men at the door,” said Bonavent. +</p> + +<p> +“The men at the door,” said Guerchard, in a tone of stupefaction. +“But she had to have my permit ... my permit on my card! Send the fools +up to me!” +</p> + +<p> +Bonavent went to the top of the staircase, and called down it. Guerchard +followed him. Two detectives came hurrying up the stairs and into the +drawing-room. +</p> + +<p> +“What the devil do you mean by letting Mademoiselle Kritchnoff leave the +house without my permit, written on my card?” cried Guerchard violently. +</p> + +<p> +“But she had your permit, sir, and it WAS written on your card,” +stammered one of the detectives. +</p> + +<p> +“It was? ... it was?” said Guerchard. “Then, by Jove, it was +a forgery!” +</p> + +<p> +He stood thoughtful for a moment. Then quietly he told his two men to go back +to their post. He did not stir for a minute or two, puzzling it out, seeking +light. +</p> + +<p> +Then he came back slowly into the drawing-room and looked uneasily at the Duke. +The Duke was sitting in his easy chair, smoking a cigarette with a listless +air. Guerchard looked at him, and looked at him, almost as if he now saw him +for the first time. +</p> + +<p> +“Well?” said the Duke, “have you sent that poor child off to +prison? If I’d done a thing like that I don’t think I should sleep +very well, M. Guerchard.” +</p> + +<p> +“That poor child has just escaped, by means of a forged permit,” +said Guerchard very glumly. +</p> + +<p> +“By Jove, I AM glad to hear that!” cried the Duke. +“You’ll forgive my lack of sympathy, M. Guerchard; but she was such +a child.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not too young to be Lupin’s accomplice,” said Guerchard +drily. +</p> + +<p> +“You really think she is?” said the Duke, in a tone of doubt. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m sure of it,” said Guerchard, with decision; then he +added slowly, with a perplexed air: +</p> + +<p> +“But how—how—could she get that forged permit?” +</p> + +<p> +The Duke shook his head, and looked as solemn as an owl. Guerchard looked at +him uneasily, went out of the drawing-room, and shut the door. +</p> + +<p> +“How long has Mademoiselle Kritchnoff been gone?” he said to +Bonavent. +</p> + +<p> +“Not much more than five minutes,” said Bonavent. “She came +out from talking to you in the drawing-room—” +</p> + +<p> +“Talking to me in the drawing-room!” exclaimed Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said Bonavent. “She came out and went straight down +the stairs and out of the house.” +</p> + +<p> +A faint, sighing gasp came from Guerchard’s lips. He dashed into the +drawing-room, crossed the room quickly to his cloak, picked it up, took the +card-case out of the pocket, and counted the cards in it. Then he looked at the +Duke. +</p> + +<p> +The Duke smiled at him, a charming smile, almost caressing. +</p> + +<p> +There seemed to be a lump in Guerchard’s throat; he swallowed it loudly. +</p> + +<p> +He put the card-case into the breast-pocket of the coat he was wearing. Then he +cried sharply, “Bonavent! Bonavent!” +</p> + +<p> +Bonavent opened the door, and stood in the doorway. +</p> + +<p> +“You sent off Victoire in the prison-van, I suppose,” said +Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, a long while ago, sir,” said Bonavent. +</p> + +<p> +“The van had been waiting at the door since half-past nine.” +</p> + +<p> +“Since half-past nine? ... But I told them I shouldn’t want it till +a quarter to eleven. I suppose they were making an effort to be in time for +once. Well, it doesn’t matter,” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Then I suppose I’d better send the other prison-van away?” +said Bonavent. +</p> + +<p> +“What other van?” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“The van which has just arrived,” said Bonavent. +</p> + +<p> +“What! What on earth are you talking about?” cried Guerchard, with +a sudden anxiety in his voice and on his face. +</p> + +<p> +“Didn’t you order two prison-vans?” said Bonavent. +</p> + +<p> +Guerchard jumped; and his face went purple with fury and dismay. “You +don’t mean to tell me that two prison-vans have been here?” he +cried. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, sir,” said Bonavent. +</p> + +<p> +“Damnation!” cried Guerchard. “In which of them did you put +Victoire? In which of them?” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, in the first, sir,” said Bonavent. +</p> + +<p> +“Did you see the police in charge of it? The coachman?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, sir,” said Bonavent. +</p> + +<p> +“Did you recognize them?” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” said Bonavent; “they must have been new men. They told +me they came from the Santé.” +</p> + +<p> +“You silly fool!” said Guerchard through his teeth. “A fine +lot of sense you’ve got.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, what’s the matter?” said Bonavent. +</p> + +<p> +“We’re done, done in the eye!” roared Guerchard. +“It’s a stroke—a stroke—” +</p> + +<p> +“Of Lupin’s!” interposed the Duke softly. +</p> + +<p> +“But I don’t understand,” said Bonavent. +</p> + +<p> +“You don’t understand, you idiot!” cried Guerchard. +“You’ve sent Victoire away in a sham prison-van—a prison-van +belonging to Lupin. Oh, that scoundrel! He always has something up his +sleeve.” +</p> + +<p> +“He certainly shows foresight,” said the Duke. “It was very +clever of him to foresee the arrest of Victoire and provide against it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, but where is the leakage? Where is the leakage?” cried +Guerchard, fuming. “How did he learn that the doctor said that she would +recover her wits at ten o’clock? Here I’ve had a guard at the door +all day; I’ve imprisoned the household; all the provisions have been +received directly by a man of mine; and here he is, ready to pick up Victoire +the very moment she gives herself away! Where is the leakage?” +</p> + +<p> +He turned on Bonavent, and went on: “It’s no use your standing +there with your mouth open, looking like a fool. Go upstairs to the +servants’ quarters and search Victoire’s room again. That fool of +an inspector may have missed something, just as he missed Victoire herself. Get +on! Be smart!” +</p> + +<p> +Bonavent went off briskly. Guerchard paced up and down the room, scowling. +</p> + +<p> +“Really, I’m beginning to agree with you, M. Guerchard, that this +Lupin is a remarkable man,” said the Duke. “That prison-van is +extraordinarily neat.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll prison-van him!” cried Guerchard. “But what fools +I have to work with. If I could get hold of people of ordinary intelligence it +would be impossible to play such a trick as that.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know about that,” said the Duke thoughtfully. +“I think it would have required an uncommon fool to discover that +trick.” +</p> + +<p> +“What on earth do you mean? Why?” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Because it’s so wonderfully simple,” said the Duke. +“And at the same time it’s such infernal cheek.” +</p> + +<p> +“There’s something in that,” said Guerchard grumpily. +“But then, I’m always saying to my men, ‘Suspect everything; +suspect everybody; suspect, suspect, suspect.’ I tell you, your Grace, +that there is only one motto for the successful detective, and that is that one +word, ‘suspect.’” +</p> + +<p> +“It can’t be a very comfortable business, then,” said the +Duke. “But I suppose it has its charms.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, one gets used to the disagreeable part,” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +The telephone bell rang; and he rose and went to it. He put the receiver to his +ear and said, “Yes; it’s I—Chief-Inspector Guerchard.” +</p> + +<p> +He turned and said to the Duke, “It’s the gardener at Charmerace, +your Grace.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is it?” said the Duke indifferently. +</p> + +<p> +Guerchard turned to the telephone. “Are you there?” he said. +“Can you hear me clearly? ... I want to know who was in your hot-house +yesterday ... who could have gathered some of your pink salvias?” +</p> + +<p> +“I told you that it was I,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, yes, I know,” said Guerchard. And he turned again to the +telephone. “Yes, yesterday,” he said. “Nobody else? ... No +one but the Duke of Charmerace? ... Are you sure?... quite sure?... absolutely +sure? ... Yes, that’s all I wanted to know ... thank you.” +</p> + +<p> +He turned to the Duke and said, “Did you hear that, your Grace? The +gardener says that you were the only person in his hot-houses yesterday, the +only person who could have plucked any pink salvias.” +</p> + +<p> +“Does he?” said the Duke carelessly. +</p> + +<p> +Guerchard looked at him, his brow knitted in a faint, pondering frown. Then the +door opened, and Bonavent came in: “I’ve been through +Victoire’s room,” he said, “and all I could find that might +be of any use is this—a prayer-book. It was on her dressing-table just as +she left it. The inspector hadn’t touched it.” +</p> + +<p> +“What about it?” said Guerchard, taking the prayer-book. +</p> + +<p> +“There’s a photograph in it,” said Bonavent. “It may +come in useful when we circulate her description; for I suppose we shall try to +get hold of Victoire.” +</p> + +<p> +Guerchard took the photograph from the prayer-book and looked at it: “It +looks about ten years old,” he said. “It’s a good deal faded +for reproduction. Hullo! What have we here?” +</p> + +<p> +The photograph showed Victoire in her Sunday best, and with her a boy of +seventeen or eighteen. Guerchard’s eyes glued themselves to the face of +the boy. He stared at it, holding the portrait now nearer, now further off. His +eyes kept stealing covertly from the photograph to the face of the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +The Duke caught one of those covert glances, and a vague uneasiness flickered +in his eyes. Guerchard saw it. He came nearer to the Duke and looked at him +earnestly, as if he couldn’t believe his eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“What’s the matter?” said the Duke. “What are you +looking at so curiously? Isn’t my tie straight?” And he put up his +hand and felt it. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, nothing, nothing,” said Guerchard. And he studied the +photograph again with a frowning face. +</p> + +<p> +There was a noise of voices and laughter in the hall. +</p> + +<p> +“Those people are going,” said the Duke. “I must go down and +say good-bye to them.” And he rose and went out of the room. +</p> + +<p> +Guerchard stood staring, staring at the photograph. +</p> + +<p> +The Duke ran down the stairs, and said goodbye to the millionaire’s +guests. After they had gone, M. Gournay-Martin went quickly up the stairs; +Germaine and the Duke followed more slowly. +</p> + +<p> +“My father is going to the Ritz to sleep,” said Germaine, +“and I’m going with him. He doesn’t like the idea of my +sleeping in this house to-night. I suppose he’s afraid that Lupin will +make an attack in force with all his gang. Still, if he did, I think that +Guerchard could give a good account of himself—he’s got men enough +in the house, at any rate. Irma tells me it’s swarming with them. It +would never do for me to be in the house if there were a fight.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, come, you don’t really believe that Lupin is coming +to-night?” said the Duke, with a sceptical laugh. “The whole thing +is sheer bluff—he has no more intention of coming tonight to steal that +coronet than—than I have.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, well, there’s no harm in being on the safe side,” said +Germaine. “Everybody’s agreed that he’s a very terrible +person. I’ll just run up to my room and get a wrap; Irma has my things +all packed. She can come round tomorrow morning to the Ritz and dress +me.” +</p> + +<p> +She ran up the stairs, and the Duke went into the drawing-room. He found +Guerchard standing where he had left him, still frowning, still thinking hard. +</p> + +<p> +“The family are off to the Ritz. It’s rather a reflection on your +powers of protecting them, isn’t it?” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, well, I expect they’d be happier out of the house,” said +Guerchard. He looked at the Duke again with inquiring, searching eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“What’s the matter?” said the Duke. “IS my tie +crooked?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, no, no; it’s quite straight, your Grace,” said +Guerchard, but he did not take his eyes from the Duke’s face. +</p> + +<p> +The door opened, and in came M. Gournay-Martin, holding a bag in his hand. +“It seems to be settled that I’m never to sleep in my own house +again,” he said in a grumbling tone. +</p> + +<p> +“There’s no reason to go,” said the Duke. “Why ARE you +going?” +</p> + +<p> +“Danger,” said M. Gournay-Martin. “You read Lupin’s +telegram: ‘I shall come to-night between a quarter to twelve and midnight +to take the coronet.’ He knows that it was in my bedroom. Do you think +I’m going to sleep in that room with the chance of that scoundrel turning +up and cutting my throat?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, you can have a dozen policemen in the room if you like,” said +the Duke. “Can’t he, M. Guerchard?” +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly,” said Guerchard. “I can answer for it that you +will be in no danger, M. Gournay-Martin.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you,” said the millionaire. “But all the same, outside +is good enough for me.” +</p> + +<p> +Germaine came into the room, cloaked and ready to start. +</p> + +<p> +“For once in a way you are ready first, papa,” she said. “Are +you coming, Jacques?” +</p> + +<p> +“No; I think I’ll stay here, on the chance that Lupin is not +bluffing,” said the Duke. “I don’t think, myself, that +I’m going to be gladdened by the sight of him—in fact, I’m +ready to bet against it. But you’re all so certain about it that I really +must stay on the chance. And, after all, there’s no doubt that he’s +a man of immense audacity and ready to take any risk.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, at any rate, if he does come he won’t find the +diadem,” said M. Gournay-Martin, in a tone of triumph. “I’m +taking it with me—I’ve got it here.” And he held up his bag. +</p> + +<p> +“You are?” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I am,” said M. Gournay-Martin firmly. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you think it’s wise?” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“Why not?” said M. Gournay-Martin. +</p> + +<p> +“If Lupin’s really made up his mind to collar that coronet, and if +you’re so sure that, in spite of all these safeguards, he’s going +to make the attempt, it seems to me that you’re taking a considerable +risk. He asked you to have it ready for him in your bedroom. He didn’t +say which bedroom.” +</p> + +<p> +“Good Lord! I never thought of that!” said M. Gournay-Martin, with +an air of sudden and very lively alarm. +</p> + +<p> +“His Grace is right,” said Guerchard. “It would be exactly +like Lupin to send that telegram to drive you out of the house with the coronet +to some place where you would be less protected. That is exactly one of his +tricks.” +</p> + +<p> +“Good Heavens!” said the millionaire, pulling out his keys and +unlocking the bag. He opened it, paused hesitatingly, and snapped it to again. +</p> + +<p> +“Half a minute,” he said. “I want a word with you, +Duke.” +</p> + +<p> +He led the way out of the drawing-room door and the Duke followed him. He shut +the door and said in a whisper: +</p> + +<p> +“In a case like this, I suspect everybody.” +</p> + +<p> +“Everybody suspects everybody, apparently,” said the Duke. +“Are you sure you don’t suspect me?” +</p> + +<p> +“Now, now, this is no time for joking,” said the millionaire +impatiently. “What do you think about Guerchard?” +</p> + +<p> +“About Guerchard?” said the Duke. “What do you mean?” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you think I can put full confidence in Guerchard?” said M. +Gournay-Martin. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I think so,” said the Duke. “Besides, I shall be here to +look after Guerchard. And, though I wouldn’t undertake to answer for +Lupin, I think I can answer for Guerchard. If he tries to escape with the +coronet, I will wring his neck for you with pleasure. It would do me good. And +it would do Guerchard good, too.” +</p> + +<p> +The millionaire stood reflecting for a minute or two. Then he said, “Very +good; I’ll trust him.” +</p> + +<p> +Hardly had the door closed behind the millionaire and the Duke, when Guerchard +crossed the room quickly to Germaine and drew from his pocket the photograph of +Victoire and the young man. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you know this photograph of his Grace, mademoiselle?” he said +quickly. +</p> + +<p> +Germaine took the photograph and looked at it. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s rather faded,” she said. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; it’s about ten years old,” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“I seem to know the face of the woman,” said Germaine. “But +if it’s ten years old it certainly isn’t the photograph of the +Duke.” +</p> + +<p> +“But it’s like him?” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, yes, it’s like the Duke as he is now—at least, +it’s a little like him. But it’s not like the Duke as he was ten +years ago. He has changed so,” said Germaine. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, has he?” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; there was that exhausting journey of his—and then his +illness. The doctors gave up all hope of him, you know.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, did they?” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; at Montevideo. But his health is quite restored now.” +</p> + +<p> +The door opened and the millionaire and the Duke came into the room. M. +Gournay-Martin set his bag upon the table, unlocked it, and with a solemn air +took out the case which held the coronet. He opened it; and they looked at it. +</p> + +<p> +“Isn’t it beautiful?” he said with a sigh. +</p> + +<p> +“Marvellous!” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +M. Gournay-Martin closed the case, and said solemnly: +</p> + +<p> +“There is danger, M. Guerchard, so I am going to trust the coronet to +you. You are the defender of my hearth and home—you are the proper person +to guard the coronet. I take it that you have no objection?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not the slightest, M. Gournay-Martin,” said Guerchard. +“It’s exactly what I wanted you to ask me to do.” +</p> + +<p> +M. Gournay-Martin hesitated. Then he handed the coronet to Guerchard, saying +with a frank and noble air, “I have every confidence in you, M. +Guerchard.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you,” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Good-night,” said M. Gournay-Martin. +</p> + +<p> +“Good-night, M. Guerchard,” said Germaine. +</p> + +<p> +“I think, after all, I’ll change my mind and go with you. I’m +very short of sleep,” said the Duke. “Good-night, M. +Guerchard.” +</p> + +<p> +“You’re never going too, your Grace!” cried Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, you don’t want me to stay, do you?” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said Guerchard slowly. +</p> + +<p> +“I think I would rather go to bed,” said the Duke gaily. +</p> + +<p> +“Are you afraid?” said Guerchard, and there was challenge, almost +an insolent challenge, in his tone. +</p> + +<p> +There was a pause. The Duke frowned slightly with a reflective air. Then he +drew himself up; and said a little haughtily: +</p> + +<p> +“You’ve certainly found the way to make me stay, M. +Guerchard.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, yes; stay, stay,” said M. Gournay-Martin hastily. +“It’s an excellent idea, excellent. You’re the very man to +help M. Guerchard, Duke. You’re an intrepid explorer, used to danger and +resourceful, absolutely fearless.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you really mean to say you’re not going home to bed, +Jacques?” said Germaine, disregarding her father’s wish with her +usual frankness. +</p> + +<p> +“No; I’m going to stay with M. Guerchard,” said the Duke +slowly. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, you will be fresh to go to the Princess’s to-morrow +night.” said Germaine petulantly. “You didn’t get any sleep +at all last night, you couldn’t have. You left Charmerace at eight +o’clock; you were motoring all the night, and only got to Paris at six +o’clock this morning.” +</p> + +<p> +“Motoring all night, from eight o’clock to six!” muttered +Guerchard under his breath. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, that will be all right,” said the Duke carelessly. “This +interesting affair is to be over by midnight, isn’t it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I warn you that, tired or fresh, you will have to come with me to +the Princess’s to-morrow night. All Paris will be there—all Paris, +that is, who are in Paris.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I shall be fresh enough,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +They went out of the drawing-room and down the stairs, all four of them. There +was an alert readiness about Guerchard, as if he were ready to spring. He kept +within a foot of the Duke right to the front door. The detective in charge +opened it; and they went down the steps to the taxi-cab which was awaiting +them. The Duke kissed Germaine’s fingers and handed her into the +taxi-cab. +</p> + +<p> +M. Gournay-Martin paused at the cab-door, and turned and said, with a pathetic +air, “Am I never to sleep in my own house again?” He got into the +cab and drove off. +</p> + +<p> +The Duke turned and came up the steps, followed by Guerchard. In the hall he +took his opera-hat and coat from the stand, and went upstairs. Half-way up the +flight he paused and said: +</p> + +<p> +“Where shall we wait for Lupin, M. Guerchard? In the drawing-room, or in +M. Gournay-Martin’s bedroom?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, the drawing-room,” said Guerchard. “I think it very +unlikely that Lupin will look for the coronet in M. Gournay-Martin’s +bedroom. He would know very well that that is the last place to find it +now.” +</p> + +<p> +The Duke went on into the drawing-room. At the door Guerchard stopped and said: +“I will just go and post my men, your Grace.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very good,” said the Duke; and he went into the drawing-room. +</p> + +<p> +He sat down, lighted a cigarette, and yawned. Then he took out his watch and +looked at it. +</p> + +<p> +“Another twenty minutes,” he said. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap19"></a>CHAPTER XIX<br/> +THE DUKE GOES</h2> + +<p> +When Guerchard joined the Duke in the drawing-room, he had lost his calm air +and was looking more than a little nervous. He moved about the room uneasily, +fingering the bric-a-brac, glancing at the Duke and looking quickly away from +him again. Then he came to a standstill on the hearth-rug with his back to the +fireplace. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you think it’s quite safe to stand there, at least with your +back to the hearth? If Lupin dropped through that opening suddenly, he’d +catch you from behind before you could wink twice,” said the Duke, in a +tone of remonstrance. +</p> + +<p> +“There would always be your Grace to come to my rescue,” said +Guerchard; and there was an ambiguous note in his voice, while his piercing +eyes now rested fixed on the Duke’s face. They seemed never to leave it; +they explored, and explored it. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s only a suggestion,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“This is rather nervous work, don’t you know.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; and of course you’re hardly fit for it,” said +Guerchard. “If I’d known about your break-down in your car last +night, I should have hesitated about asking you—” +</p> + +<p> +“A break-down?” interrupted the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, you left Charmerace at eight o’clock last night. And you only +reached Paris at six this morning. You couldn’t have had a very +high-power car?” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“I had a 100 h.-p. car,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“Then you must have had a devil of a break-down,” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, it was pretty bad, but I’ve known worse,” said the Duke +carelessly. “It lost me about three hours: oh, at least three hours. +I’m not a first-class repairer, though I know as much about an engine as +most motorists.” +</p> + +<p> +“And there was nobody there to help you repair it?” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“No; M. Gournay-Martin could not let me have his chauffeur to drive me to +Paris, because he was keeping him to help guard the château. And of course +there was nobody on the road, because it was two o’clock in the +morning.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, there was no one,” said Guerchard slowly. +</p> + +<p> +“Not a soul,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“It was unfortunate,” said Guerchard; and there was a note of +incredulity in his voice. +</p> + +<p> +“My having to repair the car myself?” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, of course,” said Guerchard, hesitating a little over the +assent. +</p> + +<p> +The Duke dropped the end of his cigarette into a tray, and took out his case. +He held it out towards Guerchard, and said, “A cigarette? or perhaps you +prefer your caporal?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I do, but all the same I’ll have one,” said Guerchard, +coming quickly across the room. And he took a cigarette from the case, and +looked at it. +</p> + +<p> +“All the same, all this is very curious,” he said in a new tone, a +challenging, menacing, accusing tone. +</p> + +<p> +“What?” said the Duke, looking at him curiously. +</p> + +<p> +“Everything: your cigarettes ... the salvias ... the photograph that +Bonavent found in Victoire’s prayer-book ... that man in motoring dress +... and finally, your break-down,” said Guerchard; and the accusation and +the threat rang clearer. +</p> + +<p> +The Duke rose from his chair quickly and said haughtily, in icy tones: +“M. Guerchard, you’ve been drinking!” +</p> + +<p> +He went to the chair on which he had set his overcoat and his hat, and picked +them up. Guerchard sprang in front of him, barring his way, and cried in a +shaky voice: “No; don’t go! You mustn’t go!” +</p> + +<p> +“What do you mean?” said the Duke, and paused. “What DO you +mean?” +</p> + +<p> +Guerchard stepped back, and ran his hand over his forehead. He was very pale, +and his forehead was clammy to his touch: +</p> + +<p> +“No ... I beg your pardon ... I beg your pardon, your Grace ... I must be +going mad,” he stammered. +</p> + +<p> +“It looks very like it,” said the Duke coldly. +</p> + +<p> +“What I mean to say is,” said Guerchard in a halting, uncertain +voice, “what I mean to say is: help me ... I want you to stay here, to +help me against Lupin, you understand. Will you, your Grace?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, certainly; of course I will, if you want me to,” said the +Duke, in a more gentle voice. “But you seem awfully upset, and +you’re upsetting me too. We shan’t have a nerve between us soon, if +you don’t pull yourself together.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, yes, please excuse me,” muttered Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Very good,” said the Duke. “But what is it we’re going +to do?” +</p> + +<p> +Guerchard hesitated. He pulled out his handkerchief, and mopped his forehead: +“Well ... the coronet ... is it in this case?” he said in a shaky +voice, and set the case on the table. +</p> + +<p> +“Of course it is,” said the Duke impatiently. +</p> + +<p> +Guerchard opened the case, and the coronet sparkled and gleamed brightly in the +electric light: “Yes, it is there; you see it?” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I see it; well?” said the Duke, looking at him in some +bewilderment, so unlike himself did he seem. +</p> + +<p> +“We’re going to wait,” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“What for?” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“Lupin,” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Lupin? And you actually do believe that, just as in a fairy tale, when +that clock strikes twelve, Lupin will enter and take the coronet?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I do; I do,” said Guerchard with stubborn conviction. And he +snapped the case to. +</p> + +<p> +“This is most exciting,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“You’re sure it doesn’t bore you?” said Guerchard +huskily. +</p> + +<p> +“Not a bit of it,” said the Duke, with cheerful derision. “To +make the acquaintance of this scoundrel who has fooled you for ten years is as +charming a way of spending the evening as I can think of.” +</p> + +<p> +“You say that to me?” said Guerchard with a touch of temper. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said the Duke, with a challenging smile. “To +you.” +</p> + +<p> +He sat down in an easy chair by the table. Guerchard sat down in a chair on the +other side of it, and set his elbows on it. They were silent. +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly the Duke said, “Somebody’s coming.” +</p> + +<p> +Guerchard started, and said: “No, I don’t hear any one.” +</p> + +<p> +Then there came distinctly the sound of a footstep and a knock at the door. +</p> + +<p> +“You’ve got keener ears than I,” said Guerchard grudgingly. +“In all this business you’ve shown the qualities of a very +promising detective.” He rose, went to the door, and unlocked it. +</p> + +<p> +Bonavent came in: “I’ve brought you the handcuffs, sir,” he +said, holding them out. “Shall I stay with you?” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” said Guerchard. “You’ve two men at the back door, +and two at the front, and a man in every room on the ground-floor?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, and I’ve got three men on every other floor,” said +Bonavent, in a tone of satisfaction. +</p> + +<p> +“And the house next door?” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“There are a dozen men in it,” said Bonavent. “No +communication between the two houses is possible any longer.” +</p> + +<p> +Guerchard watched the Duke’s face with intent eyes. Not a shadow +flickered its careless serenity. +</p> + +<p> +“If any one tries to enter the house, collar him. If need be, fire on +him,” said Guerchard firmly. “That is my order; go and tell the +others.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very good, sir,” said Bonavent; and he went out of the room. +</p> + +<p> +“By Jove, we are in a regular fortress,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s even more of a fortress than you think, your Grace. +I’ve four men on that landing,” said Guerchard, nodding towards the +door. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, have you?” said the Duke, with a sudden air of annoyance. +</p> + +<p> +“You don’t like that?” said Guerchard quickly. +</p> + +<p> +“I should jolly well think not,” said the Duke. “With these +precautions, Lupin will never be able to get into this room at all.” +</p> + +<p> +“He’ll find it a pretty hard job,” said Guerchard, smiling. +“Unless he falls from the ceiling, or unless—” +</p> + +<p> +“Unless you’re Arsène Lupin,” interrupted the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“In that case, you’d be another, your Grace,” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +They both laughed. The Duke rose, yawned, picked up his coat and hat, and said, +“Ah, well, I’m off to bed.” +</p> + +<p> +“What?” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” said the Duke, yawning again, “I was staying to see +Lupin. As there’s no longer any chance of seeing him—” +</p> + +<p> +“But there is ... there is ... so stay,” cried Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you still cling to that notion?” said the Duke wearily. +</p> + +<p> +“We SHALL see him,” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Nonsense!” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +Guerchard lowered his voice and said with an air of the deepest secrecy: +“He’s already here, your Grace.” +</p> + +<p> +“Lupin? Here?” cried the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; Lupin,” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Where?” cried the astonished Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“He is,” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“As one of your men?” said the Duke eagerly. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t think so,” said Guerchard, watching him closely. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, but, well, but—if he’s here we’ve got him.... He +is going to turn up,” said the Duke triumphantly; and he set down his hat +on the table beside the coronet. +</p> + +<p> +“I hope so,” said Guerchard. “But will he dare to?” +</p> + +<p> +“How do you mean?” said the Duke, with a puzzled air. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, you have said yourself that this is a fortress. An hour ago, +perhaps, Lupin was resolved to enter this room, but is he now?” +</p> + +<p> +“I see what you mean,” said the Duke, in a tone of disappointment. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; you see that now it needs the devil’s own courage. He must +risk everything to gain everything, and throw off the mask. Is Lupin going to +throw himself into the wolf’s jaws? I dare not think it. What do you +think about it?” +</p> + +<p> +Guerchard’s husky voice had hardened to a rough harshness; there was a +ring of acute anxiety in it, and under the anxiety a faint note of challenge, +of a challenge that dare not make itself too distinct. His anxious, challenging +eyes burned on the face of the Duke, as if they strove with all intensity to +pierce a mask. +</p> + +<p> +The Duke looked at him curiously, as if he were trying to divine what he would +be at, but with a careless curiosity, as if it were a matter of indifference to +him what the detective’s object was; then he said carelessly: +“Well, you ought to know better than I. You have known him for ten years +....” He paused, and added with just the faintest stress in his tone, +“At least, by reputation.” +</p> + +<p> +The anxiety in the detective’s face grew plainer, it almost gave him the +air of being unnerved; and he said quickly, in a jerky voice: “Yes, and I +know his way of acting too. During the last ten years I have learnt to unravel +his intrigues—to understand and anticipate his manoeuvres.... Oh, his is +a clever system! ... Instead of lying low, as you’d expect, he attacks +his opponent ... openly.... He confuses him—at least, he tries to.” +He smiled a half-confident, a half-doubtful smile, “It is a mass of +entangled, mysterious combinations. I’ve been caught in them myself again +and again. You smile?” +</p> + +<p> +“It interests me so,” said the Duke, in a tone of apology. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, it interests me,” said Guerchard, with a snarl. “But +this time I see my way clearly. No more tricks—no more secret paths ... +We’re fighting in the light of day.” He paused, and said in a +clear, sneering voice, “Lupin has pluck, perhaps, but it’s only +thief’s pluck.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, is it?” said the Duke sharply, and there was a sudden faint +glitter in his eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; rogues have very poor qualities,” sneered Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“One can’t have everything,” said the Duke quietly; but his +languid air had fallen from him. +</p> + +<p> +“Their ambushes, their attacks, their fine tactics aren’t up to +much,” said Guerchard, smiling contemptuously. +</p> + +<p> +“You go a trifle too far, I think,” said the Duke, smiling with +equal contempt. +</p> + +<p> +They looked one another in the eyes with a long, lingering look. They had +suddenly the air of fencers who have lost their tempers, and are twisting the +buttons off their foils. +</p> + +<p> +“Not a bit of it, your Grace,” said Guerchard; and his voice +lingered on the words “your Grace” with a contemptuous stress. +“This famous Lupin is immensely overrated.” +</p> + +<p> +“However, he has done some things which aren’t half bad,” +said the Duke, with his old charming smile. +</p> + +<p> +He had the air of a duelist drawing his blade lovingly through his fingers +before he falls to. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, has he?” said Guerchard scornfully. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; one must be fair. Last night’s burglary, for instance: it is +not unheard of, but it wasn’t half bad. And that theft of the motorcars: +it was a neat piece of work,” said the Duke in a gentle, insolent voice, +infinitely aggravating. +</p> + +<p> +Guerchard snorted scornfully. +</p> + +<p> +“And a robbery at the British Embassy, another at the Treasury, and a +third at M. Lepine’s—all in the same week—it wasn’t +half bad, don’t you know?” said the Duke, in the same gentle, +irritating voice. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, no, it wasn’t. But—” +</p> + +<p> +“And the time when he contrived to pass as Guerchard—the Great +Guerchard—do you remember that?” the Duke interrupted. “Come, +come—to give the devil his due—between ourselves—it +wasn’t half bad.” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” snarled Guerchard. “But he has done better than that +lately.... Why don’t you speak of that?” +</p> + +<p> +“Of what?” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“Of the time when he passed as the Duke of Charmerace,” snapped +Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“What! Did he do that?” cried the Duke; and then he added slowly, +“But, you know, I’m like you—I’m so easy to +imitate.” +</p> + +<p> +“What would have been amusing, your Grace, would have been to get as far +as actual marriage,” said Guerchard more calmly. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, if he had wanted to,” said the Duke; and he threw out his +hands. “But you know—married life—for Lupin.” +</p> + +<p> +“A large fortune ... a pretty girl,” said Guerchard, in a mocking +tone. +</p> + +<p> +“He must be in love with some one else,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“A thief, perhaps,” sneered Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Like himself.... And then, if you wish to know what I think, he must +have found his fiancée rather trying,” said the Duke, with his charming +smile. +</p> + +<p> +“After all, it’s pitiful—heartrending, you must admit it, +that, on the very eve of his marriage, he was such a fool as to throw off the +mask. And yet at bottom it’s quite logical; it’s Lupin coming out +through Charmerace. He had to grab at the dowry at the risk of losing the +girl,” said Guerchard, in a reflective tone; but his eyes were intent on +the face of the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps that’s what one should call a marriage of reason,” +said the Duke, with a faint smile. +</p> + +<p> +“What a fall!” said Guerchard, in a taunting voice. “To be +expected, eagerly, at the Princess’s to-morrow evening, and to pass the +evening in a police-station ... to have intended in a month’s time, as +the Duke of Charmerace, to mount the steps of the Madeleine with all pomp and +to fall down the father-in-law’s staircase this evening—this very +evening”—his voice rose suddenly on a note of savage +triumph—“with the handcuffs on! What? Is that a good enough revenge +for Guerchard—for that poor old idiot, Guerchard? The rogues’ +Brummel in a convict’s cap! The gentleman-burglar in a gaol! For Lupin +it’s only a trifling annoyance, but for a duke it’s a disaster! +Come, in your turn, be frank: don’t you find that amusing?” +</p> + +<p> +The Duke rose quietly, and said coldly, “Have you finished?” +</p> + +<p> +“DO you?” cried Guerchard; and he rose and faced him. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, yes; I find it quite amusing,” said the Duke lightly. +</p> + +<p> +“And so do I,” cried Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“No; you’re frightened,” said the Duke calmly. +</p> + +<p> +“Frightened!” cried Guerchard, with a savage laugh. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, you’re frightened,” said the Duke. “And +don’t think, policeman, that because I’m familiar with you, I throw +off a mask. I don’t wear one. I’ve none to throw off. I AM the Duke +of Charmerace.” +</p> + +<p> +“You lie! You escaped from the Santé four years ago. You are Lupin! I +recognize you now.” +</p> + +<p> +“Prove it,” said the Duke scornfully. +</p> + +<p> +“I will!” cried Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“You won’t. I AM the Duke of Charmerace.” +</p> + +<p> +Guerchard laughed wildly. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t laugh. You know nothing—nothing, dear boy,” said +the Duke tauntingly. +</p> + +<p> +“Dear boy?” cried Guerchard triumphantly, as if the word had been a +confession. +</p> + +<p> +“What do I risk?” said the Duke, with scathing contempt. “Can +you arrest me? ... You can arrest Lupin ... but arrest the Duke of Charmerace, +an honourable gentleman, member of the Jockey Club, and of the Union, residing +at his house, 34 B, University Street ... arrest the Duke of Charmerace, the +fiance of Mademoiselle Gournay-Martin?” +</p> + +<p> +“Scoundrel!” cried Guerchard, pale with sudden, helpless fury. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, do it,” taunted the Duke. “Be an ass.... Make yourself +the laughing-stock of Paris ... call your coppers in. Have you a +proof—one single proof? Not one.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I shall get them,” howled Guerchard, beside himself. +</p> + +<p> +“I think you may,” said the Duke coolly. “And you might be +able to arrest me next week ... the day after to-morrow perhaps ... perhaps +never ... but not to-night, that’s certain.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, if only somebody could hear you!” gasped Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, don’t excite yourself,” said the Duke. “That +won’t produce any proofs for you.... The fact is, M. Formery told you the +truth when he said that, when it is a case of Lupin, you lose your head. Ah, +that Formery—there is an intelligent man if you like.” +</p> + +<p> +“At all events, the coronet is safe ... to-night—” +</p> + +<p> +“Wait, my good chap ... wait,” said the Duke slowly; and then he +snapped out: “Do you know what’s behind that door?” and he +flung out his hand towards the door of the inner drawing-room, with a +mysterious, sinister air. +</p> + +<p> +“What?” cried Guerchard; and he whipped round and faced the door, +with his eyes starting out of his head. +</p> + +<p> +“Get out, you funk!” said the Duke, with a great laugh. +</p> + +<p> +“Hang you!” said Guerchard shrilly. +</p> + +<p> +“I said that you were going to be absolutely pitiable,” said the +Duke, and he laughed again cruelly. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, go on talking, do!” cried Guerchard, mopping his forehead. +</p> + +<p> +“Absolutely pitiable,” said the Duke, with a cold, disquieting +certainty. “As the hand of that clock moves nearer and nearer midnight, +you will grow more and more terrified.” He paused, and then shouted +violently, “Attention!” +</p> + +<p> +Guerchard jumped; and then he swore. +</p> + +<p> +“Your nerves are on edge,” said the Duke, laughing. +</p> + +<p> +“Joker!” snarled Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, you’re as brave as the next man. But who can stand the anguish +of the unknown thing which is bound to happen? ... I’m right. You feel +it, you’re sure of it. At the end of these few fixed minutes an +inevitable, fated event must happen. Don’t shrug your shoulders, man; +you’re green with fear.” +</p> + +<p> +The Duke was no longer a smiling, cynical dandy. There emanated from him an +impression of vivid, terrible force. His voice had deepened. It thrilled with a +consciousness of irresistible power; it was overwhelming, paralyzing. His eyes +were terrible. +</p> + +<p> +“My men are outside ... I’m armed,” stammered Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Child! Bear in mind ... bear in mind that it is always when you have +foreseen everything, arranged everything, made every combination ... bear in +mind that it is always then that some accident dashes your whole structure to +the ground,” said the Duke, in the same deep, thrilling voice. +“Remember that it is always at the very moment at which you are going to +triumph that he beats you, that he only lets you reach the top of the ladder to +throw you more easily to the ground.” +</p> + +<p> +“Confess, then, that you are Lupin,” muttered Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“I thought you were sure of it,” said the Duke in a jeering tone. +</p> + +<p> +Guerchard dragged the handcuffs out of his pocket, and said between his teeth, +“I don’t know what prevents me, my boy.” +</p> + +<p> +The Duke drew himself up, and said haughtily, “That’s +enough.” +</p> + +<p> +“What?” cried Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“I say that that’s enough,” said the Duke sternly. +“It’s all very well for me to play at being familiar with you, but +don’t you call me ‘my boy.’” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, you won’t impose on me much longer,” muttered Guerchard; +and his bloodshot, haggard eyes scanned the Duke’s face in an agony, an +anguish of doubting impotence. +</p> + +<p> +“If I’m Lupin, arrest me,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll arrest you in three minutes from now, or the coronet will be +untouched,” cried Guerchard in a firmer tone. +</p> + +<p> +“In three minutes from now the coronet will have been stolen; and you +will not arrest me,” said the Duke, in a tone of chilling certainty. +</p> + +<p> +“But I will! I swear I will!” cried Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t swear any foolish oaths! ... THERE ARE ONLY TWO MINUTES +LEFT,” said the Duke; and he drew a revolver from his pocket. +</p> + +<p> +“No, you don’t!” cried Guerchard, drawing a revolver in his +turn. +</p> + +<p> +“What’s the matter?” said the Duke, with an air of surprise. +“You haven’t forbidden me to shoot Lupin. I have my revolver ready, +since he’s going to come.... THERE’S ONLY A MINUTE LEFT.” +</p> + +<p> +“There are plenty of us,” said Guerchard; and he went towards the +door. +</p> + +<p> +“Funk!” said the Duke scornfully. +</p> + +<p> +Guerchard turned sharply. “Very well,” he said, “I’ll +stick it out alone.” +</p> + +<p> +“How rash!” sneered the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +Guerchard ground his teeth. He was panting; his bloodshot eyes rolled in their +sockets; the beads of cold sweat stood out on his forehead. He came back +towards the table on unsteady feet, trembling from head to foot in the last +excitation of the nerves. He kept jerking his head to shake away the mist which +kept dimming his eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“At your slightest gesture, at your slightest movement, I’ll +fire,” he said jerkily, and covered the Duke with his revolver. +</p> + +<p> +“I call myself the Duke of Charmerace. You will be arrested +to-morrow!” said the Duke, in a compelling, thrilling voice. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t care a curse!” cried Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Only FIFTY SECONDS!” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, yes,” muttered Guerchard huskily. And his eyes shot from the +coronet to the Duke, from the Duke to the coronet. +</p> + +<p> +“In fifty seconds the coronet will be stolen,” said the Duke. +</p> + +<p> +“No!” cried Guerchard furiously. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said the Duke coldly. +</p> + +<p> +“No! no! no!” cried Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +Their eyes turned to the clock. +</p> + +<p> +To Guerchard the hands seemed to be standing still. He could have sworn at them +for their slowness. +</p> + +<p> +Then the first stroke rang out; and the eyes of the two men met like crossing +blades. Twice the Duke made the slightest movement. Twice Guerchard started +forward to meet it. +</p> + +<p> +At the last stroke both their hands shot out. Guerchard’s fell heavily on +the case which held the coronet. The Duke’s fell on the brim of his hat; +and he picked it up. +</p> + +<p> +Guerchard gasped and choked. Then he cried triumphantly: +</p> + +<p> +“I HAVE it; now then, have I won? Have I been fooled this time? Has Lupin +got the coronet?” +</p> + +<p> +“It doesn’t look like it. But are you quite sure?” said the +Duke gaily. +</p> + +<p> +“Sure?” cried Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s only the weight of it,” said the Duke, repressing a +laugh. “Doesn’t it strike you that it’s just a trifle +light?” +</p> + +<p> +“What?” cried Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“This is merely an imitation.” said the Duke, with a gentle laugh. +</p> + +<p> +“Hell and damnation!” howled Guerchard. “Bonavent! +Dieusy!” +</p> + +<p> +The door flew open, and half a dozen detectives rushed in. +</p> + +<p> +Guerchard sank into a chair, stupefied, paralyzed; this blow, on the top of the +strain of the struggle with the Duke, had broken him. +</p> + +<p> +“Gentlemen,” said the Duke sadly, “the coronet has been +stolen.” +</p> + +<p> +They broke into cries of surprise and bewilderment, surrounding the gasping +Guerchard with excited questions. +</p> + +<p> +The Duke walked quietly out of the room. +</p> + +<p> +Guerchard sobbed twice; his eyes opened, and in a dazed fashion wandered from +face to face; he said faintly: “Where is he?” +</p> + +<p> +“Where’s who?” said Bonavent. +</p> + +<p> +“The Duke—the Duke!” gasped Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, he’s gone!” said Bonavent. +</p> + +<p> +Guerchard staggered to his feet and cried hoarsely, frantically: “Stop +him from leaving the house! Follow him! Arrest him! Catch him before he gets +home!” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap20"></a>CHAPTER XX<br/> +LUPIN COMES HOME</h2> + +<p> +The cold light of the early September morning illumined but dimly the charming +smoking-room of the Duke of Charmerace in his house at 34 B, University Street, +though it stole in through two large windows. The smoking-room was on the first +floor; and the Duke’s bedroom opened into it. It was furnished in the +most luxurious fashion, but with a taste which nowadays infrequently +accompanies luxury. The chairs were of the most comfortable, but their lines +were excellent; the couch against the wall, between the two windows, was the +last word in the matter of comfort. The colour scheme, of a light greyish-blue, +was almost too bright for a man’s room; it would have better suited a +boudoir. It suggested that the owner of the room enjoyed an uncommon lightness +and cheerfulness of temperament. On the walls, with wide gaps between them so +that they did not clash, hung three or four excellent pictures. Two +ballet-girls by Degas, a group of shepherdesses and shepherds, in pink and blue +and white beribboned silk, by Fragonard, a portrait of a woman by +Bastien-Lepage, a charming Corot, and two Conder fans showed that the taste of +their fortunate owner was at any rate eclectic. At the end of the room was, of +all curious things, the opening into the well of a lift. The doors of it were +open, though the lift itself was on some other floor. To the left of the +opening stood a book-case, its shelves loaded with books of a kind rather +suited to a cultivated, thoughtful man than to an idle dandy. +</p> + +<p> +Beside the window, half-hidden, and peering through the side of the curtain +into the street, stood M. Charolais. But it was hardly the M. Charolais who had +paid M. Gournay-Martin that visit at the château de Charmerace, and departed so +firmly in the millionaire’s favourite motor-car. This was a paler M. +Charolais; he lacked altogether the rich, ruddy complexion of the +millionaire’s visitor. His nose, too, was thinner, and showed none of the +ripe acquaintance with the vintages of the world which had been so plainly +displayed on it during its owner’s visit to the country. Again, hair and +eyebrows were no longer black, but fair; and his hair was no longer curly and +luxuriant, but thin and lank. His moustache had vanished, and along with it the +dress of a well-to-do provincial man of business. He wore a livery of the +Charmeraces, and at that early morning hour had not yet assumed the blue +waistcoat which is an integral part of it. Indeed it would have required an +acute and experienced observer to recognize in him the bogus purchaser of the +Mercrac. Only his eyes, his close-set eyes, were unchanged. +</p> + +<p> +Walking restlessly up and down the middle of the room, keeping out of sight of +the windows, was Victoire. She wore a very anxious air, as did Charolais too. +By the door stood Bernard Charolais; and his natural, boyish timidity, to judge +from his frightened eyes, had assumed an acute phase. +</p> + +<p> +“By the Lord, we’re done!” cried Charolais, starting back +from the window. “That was the front-door bell.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, it was only the hall clock,” said Bernard. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s seven o’clock! Oh, where can he be?” said +Victoire, wringing her hands. “The coup was fixed for midnight.... Where +can he be?” +</p> + +<p> +“They must be after him,” said Charolais. “And he +daren’t come home.” Gingerly he drew back the curtain and resumed +his watch. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve sent down the lift to the bottom, in case he should come back +by the secret entrance,” said Victoire; and she went to the opening into +the well of the lift and stood looking down it, listening with all her ears. +</p> + +<p> +“Then why, in the devil’s name, have you left the doors +open?” cried Charolais irritably. “How do you expect the lift to +come up if the doors are open?” +</p> + +<p> +“I must be off my head!” cried Victoire. +</p> + +<p> +She stepped to the side of the lift and pressed a button. The doors closed, and +there was a grunting click of heavy machinery settling into a new position. +</p> + +<p> +“Suppose we telephone to Justin at the Passy house?” said Victoire. +</p> + +<p> +“What on earth’s the good of that?” said Charolais +impatiently. “Justin knows no more than we do. How can he know any +more?” +</p> + +<p> +“The best thing we can do is to get out,” said Bernard, in a shaky +voice. +</p> + +<p> +“No, no; he will come. I haven’t given up hope,” Victoire +protested. “He’s sure to come; and he may need us.” +</p> + +<p> +“But, hang it all! Suppose the police come! Suppose they ransack his +papers.... He hasn’t told us what to do ... we are not ready for them.... +What are we to do?” cried Charolais, in a tone of despair. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I’m worse off than you are; and I’m not making a fuss. +If the police come they’ll arrest me,” said Victoire. +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps they’ve arrested him,” said Bernard, in his shaky +voice. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t talk like that,” said Victoire fretfully. +“Isn’t it bad enough to wait and wait, without your croaking like a +scared crow?” +</p> + +<p> +She started again her pacing up and down the room, twisting her hands, and now +and again moistening her dry lips with the tip of her tongue. +</p> + +<p> +Presently she said: “Are those two plain-clothes men still there +watching?” And in her anxiety she came a step nearer the window. +</p> + +<p> +“Keep away from the window!” snapped Charolais. “Do you want +to be recognized, you great idiot?” Then he added, more quietly, +“They’re still there all right, curse them, in front of the +cafe.... Hullo!” +</p> + +<p> +“What is it, now?” cried Victoire, starting. +</p> + +<p> +“A copper and a detective running,” said Charolais. “They are +running for all they’re worth.” +</p> + +<p> +“Are they coming this way?” said Victoire; and she ran to the door +and caught hold of the handle. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” said Charolais. +</p> + +<p> +“Thank goodness!” said Victoire. +</p> + +<p> +“They’re running to the two men watching the house ... +they’re telling them something. Oh, hang it, they’re all running +down the street.” +</p> + +<p> +“This way? ... Are they coming this way?” cried Victoire faintly; +and she pressed her hand to her side. +</p> + +<p> +“They are!” cried Charolais. “They are!” And he dropped +the curtain with an oath. +</p> + +<p> +“And he isn’t here! Suppose they come.... Suppose he comes to the +front door! They’ll catch him!” cried Victoire. +</p> + +<p> +There came a startling peal at the front-door bell. They stood frozen to stone, +their eyes fixed on one another, staring. +</p> + +<p> +The bell had hardly stopped ringing, when there was a slow, whirring noise. The +doors of the lift flew open, and the Duke stepped out of it. But what a changed +figure from the admirably dressed dandy who had walked through the startled +detectives and out of the house of M. Gournay-Martin at midnight! He was pale, +exhausted, almost fainting. His eyes were dim in a livid face; his lips were +grey. He was panting heavily. He was splashed with mud from head to foot: one +sleeve of his coat was torn along half its length. The sole of his left-hand +pump was half off; and his cut foot showed white and red through the torn sock. +</p> + +<p> +“The master! The master!” cried Charolais in a tone of extravagant +relief; and he danced round the room snapping his fingers. +</p> + +<p> +“You’re wounded?” cried Victoire. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” said Arsène Lupin. +</p> + +<p> +The front-door bell rang out again, startling, threatening, terrifying. +</p> + +<p> +The note of danger seemed to brace Lupin, to spur him to a last effort. +</p> + +<p> +He pulled himself together, and said in a hoarse but steady voice: “Your +waistcoat, Charolais.... Go and open the door ... not too quickly ... fumble +the bolts.... Bernard, shut the book-case. Victoire, get out of sight, do you +want to ruin us all? Be smart now, all of you. Be smart!” +</p> + +<p> +He staggered past them into his bedroom, and slammed the door. Victoire and +Charolais hurried out of the room, through the anteroom, on to the landing. +Victoire ran upstairs, Charolais went slowly down. Bernard pressed the button. +The doors of the lift shut and there was a slow whirring as it went down. He +pressed another button, and the book-case slid slowly across and hid the +opening into the lift-well. Bernard ran out of the room and up the stairs. +</p> + +<p> +Charolais went to the front door and fumbled with the bolts. He bawled through +the door to the visitors not to be in such a hurry at that hour in the morning; +and they bawled furiously at him to be quick, and knocked and rang again and +again. He was fully three minutes fumbling with the bolts, which were already +drawn. At last he opened the door an inch or two, and looked out. +</p> + +<p> +On the instant the door was dashed open, flinging him back against the wall; +and Bonavent and Dieusy rushed past him, up the stairs, as hard as they could +pelt. A brown-faced, nervous, active policeman followed them in and stopped to +guard the door. +</p> + +<p> +On the landing the detectives paused, and looked at one another, hesitating. +</p> + +<p> +“Which way did he go?” said Bonavent. “We were on his very +heels.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know; but we’ve jolly well stopped his getting into +his own house; and that’s the main thing,” said Dieusy +triumphantly. +</p> + +<p> +“But are you sure it was him?” said Bonavent, stepping into the +anteroom. +</p> + +<p> +“I can swear to it,” said Dieusy confidently; and he followed him. +</p> + +<p> +Charolais came rushing up the stairs and caught them up as they were entering +the smoking-room: +</p> + +<p> +“Here! What’s all this?” he cried. “You mustn’t +come in here! His Grace isn’t awake yet.” +</p> + +<p> +“Awake? Awake? Your precious Duke has been galloping all night,” +cried Dieusy. “And he runs devilish well, too.” +</p> + +<p> +The door of the bedroom opened; and Lupin stood on the threshold in slippers +and pyjamas. +</p> + +<p> +“What’s all this?” he snapped, with the irritation of a man +whose sleep has been disturbed; and his tousled hair and eyes dim with +exhaustion gave him every appearance of being still heavy with sleep. +</p> + +<p> +The eyes and mouths of Bonavent and Dieusy opened wide; and they stared at him +blankly, in utter bewilderment and wonder. +</p> + +<p> +“Is it you who are making all this noise?” said Lupin, frowning at +them. “Why, I know you two; you’re in the service of M. +Guerchard.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, your Grace,” stammered Bonavent. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, what are you doing here? What is it you want?” said Lupin. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, nothing, your Grace ... nothing ... there’s been a +mistake,” stammered Bonavent. +</p> + +<p> +“A mistake?” said Lupin haughtily. “I should think there had +been a mistake. But I take it that this is Guerchard’s doing. I’d +better deal with him directly. You two can go.” He turned to Charolais +and added curtly, “Show them out.” +</p> + +<p> +Charolais opened the door, and the two detectives went out of the room with the +slinking air of whipped dogs. They went down the stairs in silence, slowly, +reflectively; and Charolais let them out of the front door. +</p> + +<p> +As they went down the steps Dieusy said: “What a howler! Guerchard risks +getting the sack for this!” +</p> + +<p> +“I told you so,” said Bonavent. “A duke’s a +duke.” +</p> + +<p> +When the door closed behind the two detectives Lupin tottered across the room, +dropped on to the couch with a groan of exhaustion, and closed his eyes. +Presently the door opened, Victoire came in, saw his attitude of exhaustion, +and with a startled cry ran to his side. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, dearie! dearie!” she cried. “Pull yourself together! Oh, +do try to pull yourself together.” She caught his cold hands and began to +rub them, murmuring words of endearment like a mother over a young child. Lupin +did not open his eyes; Charolais came in. +</p> + +<p> +“Some breakfast!” she cried. “Bring his breakfast ... +he’s faint ... he’s had nothing to eat this morning. Can you eat +some breakfast, dearie?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said Lupin faintly. +</p> + +<p> +“Hurry up with it,” said Victoire in urgent, imperative tones; and +Charolais left the room at a run. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, what a life you lead!” said Victoire, or, to be exact, she +wailed it. “Are you never going to change? You’re as white as a +sheet.... Can’t you speak, dearie?” +</p> + +<p> +She stooped and lifted his legs on to the couch. +</p> + +<p> +He stretched himself, and, without opening his eyes, said in a faint voice: +“Oh, Victoire, what a fright I’ve had!” +</p> + +<p> +“You? You’ve been frightened?” cried Victoire, amazed. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. You needn’t tell the others, though. But I’ve had a +night of it ... I did play the fool so ... I must have been absolutely mad. +Once I had changed the coronet under that fat old fool Gournay-Martin’s +very eyes ... once you and Sonia were out of their clutches, all I had to do +was to slip away. Did I? Not a bit of it! I stayed there out of sheer bravado, +just to score off Guerchard.... And then I ... I, who pride myself on being as +cool as a cucumber ... I did the one thing I ought not to have done.... Instead +of going quietly away as the Duke of Charmerace ... what do you think I did? +... I bolted ... I started running ... running like a thief.... In about two +seconds I saw the slip I had made. It did not take me longer; but that was too +long—Guerchard’s men were on my track ... I was done for.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then Guerchard understood—he recognized you?” said Victoire +anxiously. +</p> + +<p> +“As soon as the first paralysis had passed, Guerchard dared to see +clearly ... to see the truth,” said Lupin. “And then it was a +chase. There were ten—fifteen of them on my heels. Out of +breath—grunting, furious—a mob—a regular mob. I had passed +the night before in a motor-car. I was dead beat. In fact, I was done for +before I started ... and they were gaining ground all the time.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why didn’t you hide?” said Victoire. +</p> + +<p> +“For a long while they were too close. They must have been within five +feet of me. I was done. Then I was crossing one of the bridges. ... There was +the Seine ... handy ... I made up my mind that, rather than be taken, I’d +make an end of it ... I’d throw myself over.” +</p> + +<p> +“Good Lord!—and then?” cried Victoire. +</p> + +<p> +“Then I had a revulsion of feeling. At any rate, I’d stick it out +to the end. I gave myself another minute... one more minute—the last, and +I had my revolver on me... but during that minute I put forth every ounce of +strength I had left ... I began to gain ground ... I had them pretty well +strung out already ... they were blown too. The knowledge gave me back my +courage, and I plugged on ... my feet did not feel so much as though they were +made of lead. I began to run away from them ... they were dropping behind ... +all of them but one ... he stuck to me. We went at a jog-trot, a slow jog-trot, +for I don’t know how long. Then we dropped to a walk—we could run +no more; and on we went. My strength and wind began to come back. I suppose my +pursuer’s did too; for exactly what I expected happened. He gave a yell +and dashed for me. I was ready for him. I pretended to start running, and when +he was within three yards of me I dropped on one knee, caught his ankles, and +chucked him over my head. I don’t know whether he broke his neck or not. +I hope he did.” +</p> + +<p> +“Splendid!” said Victoire. “Splendid!” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, there I was, outside Paris, and I’m hanged if I know where. +I went on half a mile, and then I rested. Oh, how sleepy I was! I would have +given a hundred thousand francs for an hour’s sleep—cheerfully. But +I dared not let myself sleep. I had to get back here unseen. There were you and +Sonia.” +</p> + +<p> +“Sonia? Another woman?” cried Victoire. “Oh, it’s then +that I’m frightened ... when you get a woman mixed up in your game. +Always, when you come to grief ... when you really get into danger, +there’s a woman in it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, but she’s charming!” protested Lupin. +</p> + +<p> +“They always are,” said Victoire drily. “But go on. Tell me +how you got here.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I knew it was going to be a tough job, so I took a good +rest—an hour, I should think. And then I started to walk back. I found +that I had come a devil of a way—I must have gone at Marathon pace. I +walked and walked, and at last I got into Paris, and found myself with still a +couple of miles to go. It was all right now; I should soon find a cab. But the +luck was dead against me. I heard a man come round the corner of a side-street +into a long street I was walking down. He gave a yell, and came bucketing after +me. It was that hound Dieusy. He had recognized my figure. Off I went; and the +chase began again. I led him a dance, but I couldn’t shake him off. All +the while I was working my way towards home. Then, just at last, I spurted for +all I was worth, got out of his sight, bolted round the corner of the street +into the secret entrance, and here I am.” He smiled weakly, and added, +“Oh, my dear Victoire, what a profession it is!” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap21"></a>CHAPTER XXI<br/> +THE CUTTING OF THE TELEPHONE WIRES</h2> + +<p> +The door opened, and in came Charolais, bearing a tray. +</p> + +<p> +“Here’s your breakfast, master,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t call me master—that’s how his men address +Guerchard. It’s a disgusting practice,” said Lupin severely. +</p> + +<p> +Victoire and Charolais were quick laying the table. Charolais kept up a running +fire of questions as he did it; but Lupin did not trouble to answer them. He +lay back, relaxed, drawing deep breaths. Already his lips had lost their +greyness, and were pink; there was a suggestion of blood under the skin of his +pale face. They soon had the table laid; and he walked to it on fairly steady +feet. He sat down; Charolais whipped off a cover, and said: +</p> + +<p> +“Anyhow, you’ve got out of the mess neatly. It was a jolly smart +escape.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, yes. So far it’s all right,” said Lupin. “But +there’s going to be trouble presently—lots of it. I shall want all +my wits. We all shall.” +</p> + +<p> +He fell upon his breakfast with the appetite but not the manners of a wolf. +Charolais went out of the room. Victoire hovered about him, pouring out his +coffee and putting sugar into it. +</p> + +<p> +“By Jove, how good these eggs are!” he said. “I think that, +of all the thousand ways of cooking eggs, <i>en cocotte</i> is the best.” +</p> + +<p> +“Heavens! how empty I was!” he said presently. “What a meal +I’m making! It’s really a very healthy life, this of mine, +Victoire. I feel much better already.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, yes; it’s all very well to talk,” said Victoire, in a +scolding tone; for since he was better, she felt, as a good woman should, that +the time had come to put in a word out of season. “But, all the same, +you’re trying to kill yourself—that’s what you’re +doing. Just because you’re young you abuse your youth. It won’t +last for ever; and you’ll be sorry you used it up before it’s time. +And this life of lies and thefts and of all kinds of improper things—I +suppose it’s going to begin all over again. It’s no good your +getting a lesson. It’s just thrown away upon you.” +</p> + +<p> +“What I want next is a bath,” said Lupin. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s all very well your pretending not to listen to me, when you +know very well that I’m speaking for your good,” she went on, +raising her voice a little. “But I tell you that all this is going to end +badly. To be a thief gives you no position in the world—no position at +all—and when I think of what you made me do the night before last, +I’m just horrified at myself.” +</p> + +<p> +“We’d better not talk about that—the mess you made of it! It +was positively excruciating!” said Lupin. +</p> + +<p> +“And what did you expect? I’m an honest woman, I am!” said +Victoire sharply. “I wasn’t brought up to do things like that, +thank goodness! And to begin at my time of life!” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s true, and I often ask myself how you bring yourself to stick +to me,” said Lupin, in a reflective, quite impersonal tone. “Please +pour me out another cup of coffee.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s what I’m always asking myself,” said Victoire, +pouring out the coffee. “I don’t know—I give it up. I suppose +it is because I’m fond of you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, and I’m very fond of you, my dear Victoire,” said +Lupin, in a coaxing tone. +</p> + +<p> +“And then, look you, there are things that there’s no +understanding. I often talked to your poor mother about them. Oh, your poor +mother! Whatever would she have said to these goings-on?” +</p> + +<p> +Lupin helped himself to another cutlet; his eyes twinkled and he said, +“I’m not sure that she would have been very much surprised. I +always told her that I was going to punish society for the way it had treated +her. Do you think she would have been surprised?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, nothing you did would have surprised her,” said Victoire. +“When you were quite a little boy you were always making us wonder. You +gave yourself such airs, and you had such nice manners of your +own—altogether different from the other boys. And you were already a bad +boy, when you were only seven years old, full of all kinds of tricks; and +already you had begun to steal.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, only sugar,” protested Lupin. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, you began by stealing sugar,” said Victoire, in the severe +tones of a moralist. “And then it was jam, and then it was pennies. Oh, +it was all very well at that age—a little thief is pretty enough. But +now—when you’re twenty-eight years old.” +</p> + +<p> +“Really, Victoire, you’re absolutely depressing,” said Lupin, +yawning; and he helped himself to jam. +</p> + +<p> +“I know very well that you’re all right at heart,” said +Victoire. “Of course you only rob the rich, and you’ve always been +kind to the poor.... Yes; there’s no doubt about it: you have a good +heart.” +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t help it—what about it?” said Lupin, smiling. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, you ought to have different ideas in your head. Why are you a +burglar?” +</p> + +<p> +“You ought to try it yourself, my dear Victoire,” said Lupin +gently; and he watched her with a humorous eye. +</p> + +<p> +“Goodness, what a thing to say!” cried Victoire. +</p> + +<p> +“I assure you, you ought,” said Lupin, in a tone of thoughtful +conviction. “I’ve tried everything. I’ve taken my degree in +medicine and in law. I have been an actor, and a professor of Jiu-jitsu. I have +even been a member of the detective force, like that wretched Guerchard. Oh, +what a dirty world that is! Then I launched out into society. I have been a +duke. Well, I give you my word that not one of these professions equals that of +burglar—not even the profession of Duke. There is so much of the +unexpected in it, Victoire—the splendid unexpected.... And then, +it’s full of variety, so terrible, so fascinating.” His voice sank +a little, and he added, “And what fun it is!” +</p> + +<p> +“Fun!” cried Victoire. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes ... these rich men, these swells in their luxury—when one +relieves them of a bank-note, how they do howl! ... You should have seen that +fat old Gournay-Martin when I relieved him of his treasures—what an +agony! You almost heard the death-rattle in his throat. And then the coronet! +In the derangement of their minds—and it was sheer derangement, mind +you—already prepared at Charmerace, in the derangement of Guerchard, I +had only to put out my hand and pluck the coronet. And the joy, the ineffable +joy of enraging the police! To see Guerchard’s furious eyes when I downed +him.... And look round you!” He waved his hand round the luxurious room. +“Duke of Charmerace! This trade leads to everything ... to everything on +condition that one sticks to it ....I tell you, Victoire, that when one cannot +be a great artist or a great soldier, the only thing to be is a great +thief!” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, be quiet!” cried Victoire. “Don’t talk like that. +You’re working yourself up; you’re intoxicating yourself! And all +that, it is not Catholic. Come, at your age, you ought to have one idea in your +head which should drive out all these others, which should make you forget all +these thefts.... Love ... that would change you, I’m sure of it. That +would make another man of you. You ought to marry.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes ... perhaps ... that would make another man of me. That’s what +I’ve been thinking. I believe you’re right,” said Lupin +thoughtfully. +</p> + +<p> +“Is that true? Have you really been thinking of it?” cried Victoire +joyfully. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said Lupin, smiling at her eagerness. “I have been +thinking about it—seriously.” +</p> + +<p> +“No more messing about—no more intrigues. But a real woman ... a +woman for life?” cried Victoire. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said Lupin softly; and his eyes were shining in a very grave +face. +</p> + +<p> +“Is it serious—is it real love, dearie?” said Victoire. +“What’s she like?” +</p> + +<p> +“She’s beautiful,” said Lupin. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, trust you for that. Is she a blonde or a brunette?” +</p> + +<p> +“She’s very fair and delicate—like a princess in a fairy +tale,” said Lupin softly. +</p> + +<p> +“What is she? What does she do?” said Victoire. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, since you ask me, she’s a thief,” said Lupin with a +mischievous smile. +</p> + +<p> +“Good Heavens!” cried Victoire. +</p> + +<p> +“But she’s a very charming thief,” said Lupin; and he rose +smiling. +</p> + +<p> +He lighted a cigar, stretched himself and yawned: “She had ever so much +more reason for stealing than ever I had,” he said. “And she has +always hated it like poison.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, that’s something,” said Victoire; and her blank and +fallen face brightened a little. +</p> + +<p> +Lupin walked up and down the room, breathing out long luxurious puffs of smoke +from his excellent cigar, and watching Victoire with a humorous eye. He walked +across to his book-shelf, and scanned the titles of his books with an +appreciative, almost affectionate smile. +</p> + +<p> +“This is a very pleasant interlude,” he said languidly. “But +I don’t suppose it’s going to last very long. As soon as Guerchard +recovers from the shock of learning that I spent a quiet night in my ducal bed +as an honest duke should, he’ll be getting to work with positively +furious energy, confound him! I could do with a whole day’s +sleep—twenty-four solid hours of it.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m sure you could, dearie,” said Victoire sympathetically. +</p> + +<p> +“The girl I’m going to marry is Sonia Kritchnoff,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +“Sonia? That dear child! But I love her already!” cried Victoire. +“Sonia, but why did you say she was a thief? That was a silly thing to +say.” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s my extraordinary sense of humour,” said Lupin. +</p> + +<p> +The door opened and Charolais bustled in: “Shall I clear away the +breakfast?” he said. +</p> + +<p> +Lupin nodded; and then the telephone bell rang. He put his finger on his lips +and went to it. +</p> + +<p> +“Are you there?” he said. “Oh, it’s you, Germaine.... +Good morning.... Oh, yes, I had a good night—excellent, thank you.... You +want to speak to me presently? ... You’re waiting for me at the +Ritz?” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t go—don’t go—it isn’t safe,” +said Victoire, in a whisper. +</p> + +<p> +“All right, I’ll be with you in about half an hour, or perhaps +three-quarters. I’m not dressed yet ... but I’m ever so much more +impatient than you ... good-bye for the present.” He put the receiver on +the stand. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s a trap,” said Charolais. +</p> + +<p> +“Never mind, what if it is? Is it so very serious?” said Lupin. +“There’ll be nothing but traps now; and if I can find the time I +shall certainly go and take a look at that one.” +</p> + +<p> +“And if she knows everything? If she’s taking her revenge ... if +she’s getting you there to have you arrested?” said Victoire. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, M. Formery is probably at the Ritz with Gournay-Martin. +They’re probably all of them there, weighing the coronet,” said +Lupin, with a chuckle. +</p> + +<p> +He hesitated a moment, reflecting; then he said, “How silly you are! If +they wanted to arrest me, if they had the material proof which they +haven’t got, Guerchard would be here already!” +</p> + +<p> +“Then why did they chase you last night?” said Charolais. +</p> + +<p> +“The coronet,” said Lupin. “Wasn’t that reason enough? +But, as it turned out, they didn’t catch me: and when the detectives did +come here, they disturbed me in my sleep. And that me was ever so much more me +than the man they followed. And then the proofs ... they must have proofs. +There aren’t any—or rather, what there are, I’ve got!” +He pointed to a small safe let into the wall. “In that safe are the +coronet, and, above all, the death certificate of the Duke of Charmerace ... +everything that Guerchard must have to induce M. Formery to proceed. But still, +there is a risk—I think I’d better have those things handy in case +I have to bolt.” +</p> + +<p> +He went into his bedroom and came back with the key of the safe and a kit-bag. +He opened the safe and took out the coronet, the real coronet of the Princesse +de Lamballe, and along with it a pocket-book with a few papers in it. He set +the pocket-book on the table, ready to put in his coat-pocket when he should +have dressed, and dropped the coronet into the kit-bag. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m glad I have that death certificate; it makes it much +safer,” he said. “If ever they do nab me, I don’t wish that +rascal Guerchard to accuse me of having murdered the Duke. It might prejudice +me badly. I’ve not murdered anybody yet.” +</p> + +<p> +“That comes of having a good heart,” said Victoire proudly. +</p> + +<p> +“Not even the Duke of Charmerace,” said Charolais sadly. “And +it would have been so easy when he was ill—just one little draught. And +he was in such a perfect place—so out of the way—no doctors.” +</p> + +<p> +“You do have such disgusting ideas, Charolais,” said Lupin, in a +tone of severe reproof. +</p> + +<p> +“Instead of which you went and saved his life,” said Charolais, in +a tone of deep discontent; and he went on clearing the table. +</p> + +<p> +“I did, I did: I had grown quite fond of him,” said Lupin, with a +meditative air. “For one thing, he was so very like one. I’m not +sure that he wasn’t even better-looking.” +</p> + +<p> +“No; he was just like you,” said Victoire, with decision. +“Any one would have said you were twin brothers.” +</p> + +<p> +“It gave me quite a shock the first time I saw his portrait,” said +Lupin. “You remember, Charolais? It was three years ago, the day, or +rather the night, of the first Gournay-Martin burglary at Charmerace. Do you +remember?” +</p> + +<p> +“Do I remember?” said Charolais. “It was I who pointed out +the likeness to you. I said, ‘He’s the very spit of you, +master.’ And you said, ‘There’s something to be done with +that, Charolais.’ And then off you started for the ice and snow and found +the Duke, and became his friend; and then he went and died, not that +you’d have helped him to, if he hadn’t.” +</p> + +<p> +“Poor Charmerace. He was indeed grand seigneur. With him a great name was +about to be extinguished.... Did I hesitate? ... No.... I continued it,” +said Lupin. +</p> + +<p> +He paused and looked at the clock. “A quarter to eight,” he said, +hesitating. “Shall I telephone to Sonia, or shall I not? Oh, +there’s no hurry; let the poor child sleep on. She must be worn out after +that night-journey and that cursed Guerchard’s persecution yesterday. +I’ll dress first, and telephone to her afterwards. I’d better be +getting dressed, by the way. The work I’ve got to do can’t be done +in pyjamas. I wish it could; for bed’s the place for me. My wits +aren’t quite as clear as I could wish them to deal with an awkward +business like this. Well, I must do the best I can with them.” +</p> + +<p> +He yawned and went to the bedroom, leaving the pocket-book on the table. +</p> + +<p> +“Bring my shaving-water, Charolais, and shave me,” he said, +pausing; and he went into the bedroom and shut the door. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah,” said Victoire sadly, “what a pity it is! A few years +ago he would have gone to the Crusades; and to-day he steals coronets. What a +pity it is!” +</p> + +<p> +“I think myself that the best thing we can do is to pack up our +belongings,” said Charolais. “And I don’t think we’ve +much time to do it either. This particular game is at an end, you may take it +from me.” +</p> + +<p> +“I hope to goodness it is: I want to get back to the country,” said +Victoire. +</p> + +<p> +He took up the tray; and they went out of the room. On the landing they +separated; she went upstairs and he went down. Presently he came up with the +shaving water and shaved his master; for in the house in University Street he +discharged the double functions of valet and butler. He had just finished his +task when there came a ring at the front-door bell. +</p> + +<p> +“You’d better go and see who it is,” said Lupin. +</p> + +<p> +“Bernard is answering the door,” said Charolais. “But perhaps +I’d better keep an eye on it myself; one never knows.” +</p> + +<p> +He put away the razor leisurely, and went. On the stairs he found Bonavent, +mounting—Bonavent, disguised in the livery and fierce moustache of a +porter from the Ritz. +</p> + +<p> +“Why didn’t you come to the servants’ entrance?” said +Charolais, with the truculent air of the servant of a duke and a stickler for +his master’s dignity. +</p> + +<p> +“I didn’t know that there was one,” said Bonavent humbly. +“Well, you ought to have known that there was; and it’s plain +enough to see. What is it you want?” said Charolais. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve brought a letter—a letter for the Duke of +Charmerace,” said Bonavent. +</p> + +<p> +“Give it to me,” said Charolais. “I’ll take it to +him.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, no; I’m to give it into the hands of the Duke himself and to +nobody else,” said Bonavent. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, in that case, you’ll have to wait till he’s finished +dressing,” said Charolais. +</p> + +<p> +They went on up to the stairs into the ante-room. Bonavent was walking straight +into the smoking-room. +</p> + +<p> +“Here! where are you going to? Wait here,” said Charolais quickly. +“Take a chair; sit down.” +</p> + +<p> +Bonavent sat down with a very stolid air, and Charolais looked at him +doubtfully, in two minds whether to leave him there alone or not. Before he had +decided there came a thundering knock on the front door, not only loud but +protracted. Charolais looked round with a scared air; and then ran out of the +room and down the stairs. +</p> + +<p> +On the instant Bonavent was on his feet, and very far from stolid. He opened +the door of the smoking-room very gently and peered in. It was empty. He +slipped noiselessly across the room, a pair of clippers ready in his hand, and +cut the wires of the telephone. His quick eye glanced round the room and fell +on the pocket-book on the table. He snatched it up, and slipped it into the +breast of his tunic. He had scarcely done it—one button of his tunic was +still to fasten—when the bedroom door opened, and Lupin came out: +</p> + +<p> +“What do you want?” he said sharply; and his keen eyes scanned the +porter with a disquieting penetration. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve brought a letter to the Duke of Charmerace, to be given into +his own hands,” said Bonavent, in a disguised voice. +</p> + +<p> +“Give it to me,” said Lupin, holding out his hand. +</p> + +<p> +“But the Duke?” said Bonavent, hesitating. +</p> + +<p> +“I am the Duke,” said Lupin. +</p> + +<p> +Bonavent gave him the letter, and turned to go. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t go,” said Lupin quietly. “Wait, there may be an +answer.” +</p> + +<p> +There was a faint glitter in his eyes; but Bonavent missed it. +</p> + +<p> +Charolais came into the room, and said, in a grumbling tone, “A run-away +knock. I wish I could catch the brats; I’d warm them. They wouldn’t +go fetching me away from my work again, in a hurry, I can tell you.” +</p> + +<p> +Lupin opened the letter, and read it. As he read it, at first he frowned; then +he smiled; and then he laughed joyously. It ran: +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +“SIR,” +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +“M. Guerchard has told me everything. With regard to Sonia I have judged +you: a man who loves a thief can be nothing but a rogue. I have two pieces of +news to announce to you: the death of the Duke of Charmerace, who died three +years ago, and my intention of becoming engaged to his cousin and heir, M. de +Relzières, who will assume the title and the arms.” +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +“For Mademoiselle Gournay-Martin,”<br/> +“Her maid, IRMA.” +</p> + +<p> +“She does write in shocking bad taste,” said Lupin, shaking his +head sadly. “Charolais, sit down and write a letter for me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Me?” said Charolais. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; you. It seems to be the fashion in financial circles; and I am +bound to follow it when a lady sets it. Write me a letter,” said Lupin. +</p> + +<p> +Charolais went to the writing-table reluctantly, sat down, set a sheet of paper +on the blotter, took a pen in his hand, and sighed painfully. +</p> + +<p> +“Ready?” said Lupin; and he dictated: +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +“MADEMOISELLE,” +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +“I have a very robust constitution, and my indisposition will very soon +be over. I shall have the honour of sending, this afternoon, my humble wedding +present to the future Madame de Relzières.” +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +“For Jacques de Bartut, Marquis de Relzières, Prince of Virieux, Duke of +Charmerace.” +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +“His butler, ARSÈNE.” +</p> + +<p> +“Shall I write Arsène?” said Charolais, in a horrified tone. +</p> + +<p> +“Why not?” said Lupin. “It’s your charming name, +isn’t it?” +</p> + +<p> +Bonavent pricked up his ears, and looked at Charolais with a new interest. +</p> + +<p> +Charolais shrugged his shoulders, finished the letter, blotted it, put it in an +envelope, addressed it, and handed it to Lupin. +</p> + +<p> +“Take this to Mademoiselle Gournay-Martin,” said Lupin, handing it +to Bonavent. +</p> + +<p> +Bonavent took the letter, turned, and had taken one step towards the door when +Lupin sprang. His arm went round the detective’s neck; he jerked him +backwards off his feet, scragging him. +</p> + +<p> +“Stir, and I’ll break your neck!” he cried in a terrible +voice; and then he said quietly to Charolais, “Just take my pocket-book +out of this fellow’s tunic.” +</p> + +<p> +Charolais, with deft fingers, ripped open the detective’s tunic, and took +out the pocket-book. +</p> + +<p> +“This is what they call Jiu-jitsu, old chap! You’ll be able to +teach it to your colleagues,” said Lupin. He loosed his grip on Bonavent, +and knocked him straight with a thump in the back, and sent him flying across +the room. Then he took the pocket-book from Charolais and made sure that its +contents were untouched. +</p> + +<p> +“Tell your master from me that if he wants to bring me down he’d +better fire the gun himself,” said Lupin contemptuously. “Show the +gentleman out, Charolais.” +</p> + +<p> +Bonavent staggered to the door, paused, and turned on Lupin a face livid with +fury. +</p> + +<p> +“He will be here himself in ten minutes,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +“Many thanks for the information,” said Lupin quietly. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap22"></a>CHAPTER XXII<br/> +THE BARGAIN</h2> + +<p> +Charolais conducted the detective down the stairs and let him out of the front +door, cursing and threatening vengeance as he went. Charolais took no notice of +his words—he was the well-trained servant. He came back upstairs, and on +the landing called to Victoire and Bernard. They came hurrying down; and the +three of them went into the smoking-room. +</p> + +<p> +“Now we know where we are,” said Lupin, with cheerful briskness. +“Guerchard will be here in ten minutes with a warrant for my arrest. All +of you clear out.” +</p> + +<p> +“It won’t be so precious easy. The house is watched,” said +Charolais. “And I’ll bet it’s watched back and front.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, slip out by the secret entrance. They haven’t found that +yet,” said Lupin. “And meet me at the house at Passy.” +</p> + +<p> +Charolais and Bernard wanted no more telling; they ran to the book-case and +pressed the buttons; the book-case slid aside; the doors opened and disclosed +the lift. They stepped into it. Victoire had followed them. She paused and +said: “And you? Are you coming?” +</p> + +<p> +“In an instant I shall slip out the same way,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll wait for him. You go on,” said Victoire; and the lift +went down. +</p> + +<p> +Lupin went to the telephone, rang the bell, and put the receiver to his ear. +</p> + +<p> +“You’ve no time to waste telephoning. They may be here at any +moment!” cried Victoire anxiously. +</p> + +<p> +“I must. If I don’t telephone Sonia will come here. She will run +right into Guerchard’s arms. Why the devil don’t they answer? They +must be deaf!” And he rang the bell again. +</p> + +<p> +“Let’s go to her! Let’s get out of here!” cried +Victoire, more anxiously. “There really isn’t any time to +waste.” +</p> + +<p> +“Go to her? But I don’t know where she is. I lost my head last +night,” cried Lupin, suddenly anxious himself. “Are you +there?” he shouted into the telephone. “She’s at a little +hotel near the Star. ... Are you there? ... But there are twenty hotels near +the Star.... Are you there? ... Oh, I did lose my head last night. ... Are you +there? Oh, hang this telephone! Here I’m fighting with a piece of +furniture. And every second is important!” +</p> + +<p> +He picked up the machine, shook it, saw that the wires were cut, and cried +furiously: “Ha! They’ve played the telephone trick on me! +That’s Guerchard.... The swine!” +</p> + +<p> +“And now you can come along!” cried Victoire. +</p> + +<p> +“But that’s just what I can’t do!” he cried. +</p> + +<p> +“But there’s nothing more for you to do here, since you can no +longer telephone,” said Victoire, bewildered. +</p> + +<p> +Lupin caught her arm and shook her, staring into her face with panic-stricken +eyes. “But don’t you understand that, since I haven’t +telephoned, she’ll come here?” he cried hoarsely. +“Five-and-twenty minutes past eight! At half-past eight she will +start—start to come here.” +</p> + +<p> +His face had suddenly grown haggard; this new fear had brought back all the +exhaustion of the night; his eyes were panic-stricken. +</p> + +<p> +“But what about you?” said Victoire, wringing her hands. +</p> + +<p> +“What about her?” said Lupin; and his voice thrilled with anguished +dread. +</p> + +<p> +“But you’ll gain nothing by destroying both of you—nothing at +all.” +</p> + +<p> +“I prefer it,” said Lupin slowly, with a suddenly stubborn air. +</p> + +<p> +“But they’re coming to take you,” cried Victoire, gripping +his arm. +</p> + +<p> +“Take me?” cried Lupin, freeing himself quietly from her grip. And +he stood frowning, plunged in deep thought, weighing the chances, the risks, +seeking a plan, saving devices. +</p> + +<p> +He crossed the room to the writing-table, opened a drawer, and took out a +cardboard box about eight inches square and set it on the table. +</p> + +<p> +“They shall never take me alive,” he said gloomily. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, hush, hush!” said Victoire. “I know very well that +you’re capable of anything ... and they too—they’ll destroy +you. No, look you, you must go. They won’t do anything to her—a +child like that—so frail. She’ll get off quite easily. You’re +coming, aren’t you?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, I’m not,” said Lupin stubbornly. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, well, if you won’t,” said Victoire; and with an air of +resolution she went to the side of the lift-well, and pressed the buttons. The +doors closed; the book-case slid across. She sat down and folded her arms. +</p> + +<p> +“What, you’re not going to stop here?” cried Lupin. +</p> + +<p> +“Make me stir if you can. I’m as fond of you as she is—you +know I am,” said Victoire, and her face set stonily obstinate. +</p> + +<p> +Lupin begged her to go; ordered her to go; he seized her by the shoulder, shook +her, and abused her like a pickpocket. She would not stir. He abandoned the +effort, sat down, and knitted his brow again in profound and painful thought, +working out his plan. Now and again his eyes flashed, once or twice they +twinkled. Victoire watched his face with just the faintest hope on her own. +</p> + +<p> +It was past five-and-twenty minutes to nine when the front-door bell rang. They +gazed at one another with an unspoken question on their lips. The eyes of +Victoire were scared, but in the eyes of Lupin the light of battle was +gathering. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s her,” said Victoire under her breath. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” said Lupin. “It’s Guerchard.” +</p> + +<p> +He sprang to his feet with shining eyes. His lips were curved in a fighting +smile. “The game isn’t lost yet,” he said in a tense, quiet +voice. “I’m going to play it to the end. I’ve a card or two +left still—good cards. I’m still the Duke of Charmerace.” He +turned to her. +</p> + +<p> +“Now listen to me,” he said. “Go down and open the door for +him.” +</p> + +<p> +“What, you want me to?” said Victoire, in a shaky voice. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I do. Listen to me carefully. When you have opened the door, slip +out of it and watch the house. Don’t go too far from it. Look out for +Sonia. You’ll see her coming. Stop her from entering, Victoire—stop +her from entering.” He spoke coolly, but his voice shook on the last +words. +</p> + +<p> +“But if Guerchard arrests me?” said Victoire. +</p> + +<p> +“He won’t. When he comes in, stand behind the door. He will be too +eager to get to me to stop for you. Besides, for him you don’t count in +the game. Once you’re out of the house, I’ll hold him here +for—for half an hour. That will leave a margin. Sonia will hurry here. +She should be here in twelve minutes. Get her away to the house at Passy. If I +don’t come keep her there; she’s to live with you. But I shall +come.” +</p> + +<p> +As he spoke he was pushing her towards the door. +</p> + +<p> +The bell rang again. They were at the top of the stairs. +</p> + +<p> +“And suppose he does arrest me?” said Victoire breathlessly. +</p> + +<p> +“Never mind, you must go all the same,” said Lupin. +“Don’t give up hope—trust to me. Go—go—for my +sake.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m going, dearie,” said Victoire; and she went down the +stairs steadily, with a brave air. +</p> + +<p> +He watched her half-way down the flight; then he muttered: +</p> + +<p> +“If only she gets to Sonia in time.” +</p> + +<p> +He turned, went into the smoking-room, and shut the door. He sat quietly down +in an easy chair, lighted a cigarette, and took up a paper. He heard the noise +of the traffic in the street grow louder as the front door was opened. There +was a pause; then he heard the door bang. There was the sound of a hasty +footstep on the stairs; the door flew open, and Guerchard bounced into the +room. +</p> + +<p> +He stopped short in front of the door at the sight of Lupin, quietly reading, +smoking at his ease. He had expected to find the bird flown. He stood still, +hesitating, shuffling his feet—all his doubts had returned; and Lupin +smiled at him over the lowered paper. +</p> + +<p> +Guerchard pulled himself together by a violent effort, and said jerkily, +“Good-morning, Lupin.” +</p> + +<p> +“Good-morning, M. Guerchard,” said Lupin, with an ambiguous smile +and all the air of the Duke of Charmerace. +</p> + +<p> +“You were expecting me? ... I hope I haven’t kept you +waiting,” said Guerchard, with an air of bravado. +</p> + +<p> +“No, thank you: the time has passed quite quickly. I have so much to do +in the morning always,” said Lupin. “I hope you had a good night +after that unfortunate business of the coronet. That was a disaster; and so +unexpected too.” +</p> + +<p> +Guerchard came a few steps into the room, still hesitating: +</p> + +<p> +“You’ve a very charming house here,” he said, with a sneer. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s central,” said Lupin carelessly. “You must please +excuse me, if I cannot receive you as I should like; but all my servants have +bolted. Those confounded detectives of yours have frightened them away.” +</p> + +<p> +“You needn’t bother about that. I shall catch them,” said +Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“If you do, I’m sure I wish you joy of them. Do, please, keep your +hat on,” said Lupin with ironic politeness. +</p> + +<p> +Guerchard came slowly to the middle of the room, raising his hand to his hat, +letting it fall again without taking it off. He sat down slowly facing him, and +they gazed at one another with the wary eyes of duellists crossing swords at +the beginning of a duel. +</p> + +<p> +“Did you get M. Formery to sign a little warrant?” said Lupin, in a +caressing tone full of quiet mockery. +</p> + +<p> +“I did,” said Guerchard through his teeth. +</p> + +<p> +“And have you got it on you?” said Lupin. +</p> + +<p> +“I have,” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Against Lupin, or against the Duke of Charmerace?” said Lupin. +</p> + +<p> +“Against Lupin, called Charmerace,” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, that ought to cover me pretty well. Why don’t you arrest me? +What are you waiting for?” said Lupin. His face was entirely serene, his +eyes were careless, his tone indifferent. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m not waiting for anything,” said Guerchard thickly; +“but it gives me such pleasure that I wish to enjoy this minute to the +utmost, Lupin,” said Guerchard; and his eyes gloated on him. +</p> + +<p> +“Lupin, himself,” said Lupin, smiling. +</p> + +<p> +“I hardly dare believe it,” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“You’re quite right not to,” said Lupin. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I hardly dare believe it. You alive, here at my mercy?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, dear no, not yet,” said Lupin. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said Guerchard, in a decisive tone. “And ever so much +more than you think.” He bent forwards towards him, with his hands on his +knees, and said, “Do you know where Sonia Kritchnoff is at this +moment?” +</p> + +<p> +“What?” said Lupin sharply. +</p> + +<p> +“I ask if you know where Sonia Kritchnoff is?” said Guerchard +slowly, lingering over the words. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you?” said Lupin. +</p> + +<p> +“I do,” said Guerchard triumphantly. +</p> + +<p> +“Where is she?” said Lupin, in a tone of utter incredulity. +</p> + +<p> +“In a small hotel near the Star. The hotel has a telephone; and you can +make sure,” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed? That’s very interesting. What’s the number of +it?” said Lupin, in a mocking tone. +</p> + +<p> +“555 Central: would you like to telephone to her?” said Guerchard; +and he smiled triumphantly at the disabled instrument. +</p> + +<p> +Lupin shock his head with a careless smile, and said, “Why should I +telephone to her? What are you driving at?” +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing ... that’s all,” said Guerchard. And he leant back +in his chair with an ugly smile on his face. +</p> + +<p> +“Evidently nothing. For, after all, what has that child got to do with +you? You’re not interested in her, plainly. She’s not big enough +game for you. It’s me you are hunting ... it’s me you hate ... +it’s me you want. I’ve played you tricks enough for that, you old +scoundrel. So you’re going to leave that child in peace? ... You’re +not going to revenge yourself on her? ... It’s all very well for you to +be a policeman; it’s all very well for you to hate me; but there are +things one does not do.” There was a ring of menace and appeal in the +deep, ringing tones of his voice. “You’re not going to do that, +Guerchard.... You will not do it.... Me—yes—anything you like. But +her—her you must not touch.” He gazed at the detective with fierce, +appealing eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“That depends on you,” said Guerchard curtly. +</p> + +<p> +“On me?” cried Lupin, in genuine surprise. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I’ve a little bargain to propose to you,” said +Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Have you?” said Lupin; and his watchful face was serene again, his +smile almost pleasant. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said Guerchard. And he paused, hesitating. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, what is it you want?” said Lupin. “Out with it! +Don’t be shy about it.” +</p> + +<p> +“I offer you—” +</p> + +<p> +“You offer me?” cried Lupin. “Then it isn’t true. +You’re fooling me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Reassure yourself,” said Guerchard coldly. “To you +personally I offer nothing.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then you are sincere,” said Lupin. “And putting me out of +the question?” +</p> + +<p> +“I offer you liberty.” +</p> + +<p> +“Who for? For my concierge?” said Lupin. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t play the fool. You care only for a single person in the +world. I hold you through her: Sonia Kritchnoff.” +</p> + +<p> +Lupin burst into a ringing, irrepressible laugh: +</p> + +<p> +“Why, you’re trying to blackmail me, you old sweep!” he +cried. +</p> + +<p> +“If you like to call it so,” said Guerchard coldly. +</p> + +<p> +Lupin rose and walked backwards and forwards across the room, frowning, +calculating, glancing keenly at Guerchard, weighing him. Twice he looked at the +clock. +</p> + +<p> +He stopped and said coldly: “So be it. For the moment you’re the +stronger.... That won’t last.... But you offer me this child’s +liberty.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s my offer,” said Guerchard; and his eyes brightened at +the prospect of success. +</p> + +<p> +“Her complete liberty? ... on your word of honour?” said Lupin; and +he had something of the air of a cat playing with a mouse. +</p> + +<p> +“On my word of honour,” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Can you do it?” said Lupin, with a sudden air of doubt; and he +looked sharply from Guerchard to the clock. +</p> + +<p> +“I undertake to do it,” said Guerchard confidently. +</p> + +<p> +“But how?” said Lupin, looking at him with an expression of the +gravest doubt. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I’ll put the thefts on your shoulders. That will let her out +all right,” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve certainly good broad shoulders,” said Lupin, with a +bitter smile. He walked slowly up and down with an air that grew more and more +depressed: it was almost the air of a beaten man. Then he stopped and faced +Guerchard, and said: “And what is it you want in exchange?” +</p> + +<p> +“Everything,” said Guerchard, with the air of a man who is winning. +“You must give me back the pictures, tapestry, Renaissance cabinets, the +coronet, and all the information about the death of the Duke of Charmerace. Did +you kill him?” +</p> + +<p> +“If ever I commit suicide, you’ll know all about it, my good +Guerchard. You’ll be there. You may even join me,” said Lupin +grimly; he resumed his pacing up and down the room. +</p> + +<p> +“Done for, yes; I shall be done for,” he said presently. “The +fact is, you want my skin.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I want your skin,” said Guerchard, in a low, savage, +vindictive tone. +</p> + +<p> +“My skin,” said Lupin thoughtfully. +</p> + +<p> +“Are you going to do it? Think of that girl,” said Guerchard, in a +fresh access of uneasy anxiety. +</p> + +<p> +Lupin laughed: “I can give you a glass of port,” he said, +“but I’m afraid that’s all I can do for you.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll throw Victoire in,” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“What?” cried Lupin. “You’ve arrested Victoire?” +There was a ring of utter dismay, almost despair, in his tone. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; and I’ll throw her in. She shall go scot-free. I won’t +bother with her,” said Guerchard eagerly. +</p> + +<p> +The front-door bell rang. +</p> + +<p> +“Wait, wait. Let me think,” said Lupin hoarsely; and he strove to +adjust his jostling ideas, to meet with a fresh plan this fresh disaster. +</p> + +<p> +He stood listening with all his ears. There were footsteps on the stairs, and +the door opened. Dieusy stood on the threshold. +</p> + +<p> +“Who is it?” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“I accept—I accept everything,” cried Lupin in a frantic +tone. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s a tradesman; am I to detain him?” said Dieusy. +“You told me to let you know who came and take instructions.” +</p> + +<p> +“A tradesman? Then I refuse!” cried Lupin, in an ecstasy of relief. +</p> + +<p> +“No, you needn’t keep him,” said Guerchard, to Dieusy. +</p> + +<p> +Dieusy went out and shut the door. +</p> + +<p> +“You refuse?” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“I refuse,” said Lupin. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m going to gaol that girl,” said Guerchard savagely; and +he took a step towards the door. +</p> + +<p> +“Not for long,” said Lupin quietly. “You have no +proof.” +</p> + +<p> +“She’ll furnish the proof all right herself—plenty of +proofs,” said Guerchard brutally. “What chance has a silly child +like that got, when we really start questioning her? A delicate creature like +that will crumple up before the end of the third day’s +cross-examination.” +</p> + +<p> +“You swine!” said Lupin. “You know well enough that I can do +it—on my head—with a feeble child like that; and you know your +Code; five years is the minimum,” said Guerchard, in a tone of relentless +brutality, watching him carefully, sticking to his hope. +</p> + +<p> +“By Jove, I could wring your neck!” said Lupin, trembling with +fury. By a violent effort he controlled himself, and said thoughtfully, +“After all, if I give up everything to you, I shall be free to take it +back one of these days.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, no doubt, when you come out of prison,” said Guerchard +ironically; and he laughed a grim, jeering laugh. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve got to go to prison first,” said Lupin quietly. +</p> + +<p> +“Pardon me—if you accept, I mean to arrest you,” said +Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Manifestly you’ll arrest me if you can,” said Lupin. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you accept?” said Guerchard. And again his voice quivered with +anxiety. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” said Lupin. And he paused as if finally weighing the +matter. +</p> + +<p> +“Well?” said Guerchard, and his voice shook. +</p> + +<p> +“Well—no!” said Lupin; and he laughed a mocking laugh. +</p> + +<p> +“You won’t?” said Guerchard between his teeth. +</p> + +<p> +“No; you wish to catch me. This is just a ruse,” said Lupin, in +quiet, measured tones. “At bottom you don’t care a hang about +Sonia, Mademoiselle Kritchnoff. You will not arrest her. And then, if you did +you have no proofs. There ARE no proofs. As for the pendant, you’d have +to prove it. You can’t prove it. You can’t prove that it was in her +possession one moment. Where is the pendant?” He paused, and then went on +in the same quiet tone: “No, Guerchard; after having kept out of your +clutches for the last ten years, I’m not going to be caught to save this +child, who is not even in danger. She has a very useful friend in the Duke of +Charmerace. I refuse.” +</p> + +<p> +Guerchard stared at him, scowling, biting his lips, seeking a fresh point of +attack. For the moment he knew himself baffled, but he still clung tenaciously +to the struggle in which victory would be so precious. +</p> + +<p> +The front-door bell rang again. +</p> + +<p> +“There’s a lot of ringing at your bell this morning,” said +Guerchard, under his breath; and hope sprang afresh in him. +</p> + +<p> +Again they stood silent, waiting. +</p> + +<p> +Dieusy opened the door, put in his head, and said, “It’s +Mademoiselle Kritchnoff.” +</p> + +<p> +“Collar her! ... Here’s the warrant! ... collar her!” shouted +Guerchard, with savage, triumphant joy. +</p> + +<p> +“Never! You shan’t touch her! By Heaven, you shan’t touch +her!” cried Lupin frantically; and he sprang like a tiger at Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +Guerchard jumped to the other side of the table. “Will you accept, +then?” he cried. +</p> + +<p> +Lupin gripped the edge of the table with both hands, and stood panting, +grinding his teeth, pale with fury. He stood silent and motionless for perhaps +half a minute, gazing at Guerchard with burning, murderous eyes. Then he nodded +his head. +</p> + +<p> +“Let Mademoiselle Kritchnoff wait,” said Guerchard, with a sigh of +deep relief. Dieusy went out of the room. +</p> + +<p> +“Now let us settle exactly how we stand,” said Lupin, in a clear, +incisive voice. “The bargain is this: If I give you the pictures, the +tapestry, the cabinets, the coronet, and the death-certificate of the Duke of +Charmerace, you give me your word of honour that Mademoiselle Kritchnoff shall +not be touched.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s it!” said Guerchard eagerly. +</p> + +<p> +“Once I deliver these things to you, Mademoiselle Kritchnoff passes out +of the game.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Whatever happens afterwards. If I get back anything—if I +escape—she goes scot-free,” said Lupin. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said Guerchard; and his eyes were shining. +</p> + +<p> +“On your word of honour?” said Lupin. +</p> + +<p> +“On my word of honour,” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Very well,” said Lupin, in a quiet, businesslike voice. “To +begin with, here in this pocket-book you’ll find all the documents +relating to the death of the Duke of Charmerace. In it you will also find the +receipt of the Plantin furniture repository at Batignolles for the objects of +art which I collected at Gournay-Martin’s. I sent them to Batignolles +because, in my letters asking the owners of valuables to forward them to me, I +always make Batignolles the place to which they are to be sent; therefore I +knew that you would never look there. They are all in cases; for, while you +were making those valuable inquiries yesterday, my men were putting them into +cases. You’ll not find the receipt in the name of either the Duke of +Charmerace or my own. It is in the name of a respected proprietor of +Batignolles, a M. Pierre Servien. But he has lately left that charming suburb, +and I do not think he will return to it.” +</p> + +<p> +Guerchard almost snatched the pocket-book out of his hand. He verified the +documents in it with greedy eyes; and then he put them back in it, and stuffed +it into the breast-pocket of his coat. +</p> + +<p> +“And where’s the coronet?” he said, in an excited voice. +</p> + +<p> +“You’re nearly standing on it,” said Lupin. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s in that kit-bag at your feet, on the top of the change of +clothes in it.” +</p> + +<p> +Guerchard snatched up the kit-bag, opened it, and took out the coronet. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m afraid I haven’t the case,” said Lupin, in a tone +of regret. “If you remember, I left it at Gournay-Martin’s—in +your charge.” +</p> + +<p> +Guerchard examined the coronet carefully. He looked at the stones in it; he +weighed it in his right hand, and he weighed it in his left. +</p> + +<p> +“Are you sure it’s the real one?” said Lupin, in a tone of +acute but affected anxiety. “Do not—oh, do not let us have any more +of these painful mistakes about it. They are so wearing.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes—yes—this is the real one,” said Guerchard, with +another deep sigh of relief. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, have you done bleeding me?” said Lupin contemptuously. +</p> + +<p> +“Your arms,” said Guerchard quickly. +</p> + +<p> +“They weren’t in the bond,” said Lupin. “But here you +are.” And he threw his revolver on the table. +</p> + +<p> +Guerchard picked it up and put it into his pocket. He looked at Lupin as if he +could not believe his eyes, gloating over him. Then he said in a deep, +triumphant tone: +</p> + +<p> +“And now for the handcuffs!” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap23"></a>CHAPTER XXIII<br/> +THE END OF THE DUEL</h2> + +<p> +“The handcuffs?” said Lupin; and his face fell. Then it cleared; +and he added lightly, “After all, there’s nothing like being +careful; and, by Jove, with me you need to be. I might get away yet. What luck +it is for you that I’m so soft, so little of a Charmerace, so human! +Truly, I can’t be much of a man of the world, to be in love like +this!” +</p> + +<p> +“Come, come, hold out your hands!” said Guerchard, jingling the +handcuffs impatiently. +</p> + +<p> +“I should like to see that child for the last time,” said Lupin +gently. +</p> + +<p> +“All right,” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Arsène Lupin—and nabbed by you! If you aren’t in luck! Here +you are!” said Lupin bitterly; and he held out his wrists. +</p> + +<p> +Guerchard snapped the handcuffs on them with a grunt of satisfaction. +</p> + +<p> +Lupin gazed down at them with a bitter face, and said: “Oh, you are in +luck! You’re not married by any chance?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, yes; I am,” said Guerchard hastily; and he went quickly to +the door and opened it: “Dieusy!” he called. “Dieusy! +Mademoiselle Kritchnoff is at liberty. Tell her so, and bring her in +here.” +</p> + +<p> +Lupin started back, flushed and scowling; he cried: “With these things on +my hands! ... No! ... I can’t see her!” +</p> + +<p> +Guerchard stood still, looking at him. Lupin’s scowl slowly softened, and +he said, half to himself, “But I should have liked to see her ... very +much ... for if she goes like that ... I shall not know when or +where—” He stopped short, raised his eyes, and said in a decided +tone: “Ah, well, yes; I should like to see her.” +</p> + +<p> +“If you’ve quite made up your mind,” said Guerchard +impatiently, and he went into the anteroom. +</p> + +<p> +Lupin stood very still, frowning thoughtfully. He heard footsteps on the +stairs, and then the voice of Guerchard in the anteroom, saying, in a jeering +tone, “You’re free, mademoiselle; and you can thank the Duke for +it. You owe your liberty to him.” +</p> + +<p> +“Free! And I owe it to him?” cried the voice of Sonia, ringing and +golden with extravagant joy. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, mademoiselle,” said Guerchard. “You owe it to +him.” +</p> + +<p> +She came through the open door, flushed deliciously and smiling, her eyes +brimming with tears of joy. Lupin had never seen her look half so adorable. +</p> + +<p> +“Is it to you I owe it? Then I shall owe everything to you. Oh, thank +you—thank you!” she cried, holding out her hands to him. +</p> + +<p> +Lupin half turned away from her to hide his handcuffs. +</p> + +<p> +She misunderstood the movement. Her face fell suddenly like that of a child +rebuked: “Oh, I was wrong. I was wrong to come here!” she cried +quickly, in changed, dolorous tones. “I thought yesterday ... I made a +mistake ... pardon me. I’m going. I’m going.” +</p> + +<p> +Lupin was looking at her over his shoulder, standing sideways to hide the +handcuffs. He said sadly. “Sonia—” +</p> + +<p> +“No, no, I understand! It was impossible!” she cried quickly, +cutting him short. “And yet if you only knew—if you knew how I have +changed—with what a changed spirit I came here.... Ah, I swear that now I +hate all my past. I loathe it. I swear that now the mere presence of a thief +would overwhelm me with disgust.” +</p> + +<p> +“Hush!” said Lupin, flushing deeply, and wincing. +“Hush!” +</p> + +<p> +“But, after all, you’re right,” she said, in a gentler voice. +“One can’t wipe out what one has done. If I were to give back +everything I’ve taken—if I were to spend years in remorse and +repentance, it would be no use. In your eyes I should always be Sonia +Kritchnoff, the thief!” The great tears welled slowly out of her eyes and +rolled down her cheeks; she let them stream unheeded. +</p> + +<p> +“Sonia!” cried Lupin, protesting. +</p> + +<p> +But she would not hear him. She broke out with fresh vehemence, a feverish +passion: “And yet, if I’d been a thief, like so many others... but +you know why I stole. I’m not trying to defend myself, but, after all, I +did it to keep honest; and when I loved you it was not the heart of a thief +that thrilled, it was the heart of a poor girl who loved...that’s +all...who loved.” +</p> + +<p> +“You don’t know what you’re doing! You’re torturing me! +Be quiet!” cried Lupin hoarsely, beside himself. +</p> + +<p> +“Never mind...I’m going...we shall never see one another any +more,” she sobbed. “But will you...will you shake hands just for +the last time?” +</p> + +<p> +“No!” cried Lupin. +</p> + +<p> +“You won’t?” wailed Sonia in a heartrending tone. +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t!” cried Lupin. +</p> + +<p> +“You ought not to be like this.... Last night ... if you were going to +let me go like this ... last night ... it was wrong,” she wailed, and +turned to go. +</p> + +<p> +“Wait, Sonia! Wait!” cried Lupin hoarsely. “A moment ago you +said something.... You said that the mere presence of a thief would overwhelm +you with disgust. Is that true?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I swear it is,” cried Sonia. +</p> + +<p> +Guerchard appeared in the doorway. +</p> + +<p> +“And if I were not the man you believe?” said Lupin sombrely. +</p> + +<p> +“What?” said Sonia; and a faint bewilderment mingled with her +grief. “If I were not the Duke of Charmerace?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not the Duke?” +</p> + +<p> +“If I were not an honest man?” said Lupin. +</p> + +<p> +“You?” cried Sonia. +</p> + +<p> +“If I were a thief? If I were—” +</p> + +<p> +“Arsène Lupin,” jeered Guerchard from the door. +</p> + +<p> +Lupin turned and held out his manacled wrists for her to see. +</p> + +<p> +“Arsène Lupin! ... it’s ... it’s true!” stammered +Sonia. “But then, but then ... it must be for my sake that you’ve +given yourself up. And it’s for me you’re going to prison. Oh, +Heavens! How happy I am!” +</p> + +<p> +She sprang to him, threw her arms round his neck, and pressed her lips to his. +</p> + +<p> +“And that’s what women call repenting,” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +He shrugged his shoulders, went out on to the landing, and called to the +policeman in the hall to bid the driver of the prison-van, which was waiting, +bring it up to the door. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, this is incredible!” cried Lupin, in a trembling voice; and he +kissed Sonia’s lips and eyes and hair. “To think that you love me +enough to go on loving me in spite of this—in spite of the fact that +I’m Arsène Lupin. Oh, after this, I’ll become an honest man! +It’s the least I can do. I’ll retire.” +</p> + +<p> +“You will?” cried Sonia. +</p> + +<p> +“Upon my soul, I will!” cried Lupin; and he kissed her again and +again. +</p> + +<p> +Guerchard came back into the room. He looked at them with a cynical grin, and +said, “Time’s up.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, Guerchard, after so many others, I owe you the best minute of my +life!” cried Lupin. +</p> + +<p> +Bonavent, still in his porter’s livery, came hurrying through the +anteroom: “Master,” he cried, “I’ve found it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Found what?” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“The secret entrance. It opens into that little side street. We +haven’t got the door open yet; but we soon shall.” +</p> + +<p> +“The last link in the chain,” said Guerchard, with warm +satisfaction. “Come along, Lupin.” +</p> + +<p> +“But he’s going to take you away! We’re going to be +separated!” cried Sonia, in a sudden anguish of realization. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s all the same to me now!” cried Lupin, in the voice of a +conqueror. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, but not to me!” cried Sonia, wringing her hands. +</p> + +<p> +“Now you must keep calm and go. I’m not going to prison,” +said Lupin, in a low voice. “Wait in the hall, if you can. Stop and talk +to Victoire; condole with her. If they turn you out of the house, wait close to +the front door.” +</p> + +<p> +“Come, mademoiselle,” said Guerchard. “You must go.” +</p> + +<p> +“Go, Sonia, go—good-bye—good-bye,” said Lupin; and he +kissed her. +</p> + +<p> +She went quietly out of the room, her handkerchief to her eyes. Guerchard held +open the door for her, and kept it open, with his hand still on the handle; he +said to Lupin: “Come along.” +</p> + +<p> +Lupin yawned, stretched himself, and said coolly, “My dear Guerchard, +what I want after the last two nights is rest—rest.” He walked +quickly across the room and stretched himself comfortably at full length on the +couch. +</p> + +<p> +“Come, get up,” said Guerchard roughly. “The prison-van is +waiting for you. That ought to fetch you out of your dream.” +</p> + +<p> +“Really, you do say the most unlucky things,” said Lupin gaily. +</p> + +<p> +He had resumed his flippant, light-hearted air; his voice rang as lightly and +pleasantly as if he had not a care in the world. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you mean that you refuse to come?” cried Guerchard in a rough, +threatening tone. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, no,” said Lupin quickly: and he rose. +</p> + +<p> +“Then come along!” said Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” said Lupin, “after all, it’s too early.” +Once more he stretched himself out on the couch, and added languidly, +“I’m lunching at the English Embassy.” +</p> + +<p> +“Now, you be careful!” cried Guerchard angrily. “Our parts +are changed. If you’re snatching at a last straw, it’s waste of +time. All your tricks—I know them. Understand, you rogue, I know +them.” +</p> + +<p> +“You know them?” said Lupin with a smile, rising. “It’s +fatality!” +</p> + +<p> +He stood before Guerchard, twisting his hands and wrists curiously. Half a +dozen swift movements; and he held out his handcuffs in one hand and threw them +on the floor. +</p> + +<p> +“Did you know that trick, Guerchard? One of these days I shall teach you +to invite me to lunch,” he said slowly, in a mocking tone; and he gazed +at the detective with menacing, dangerous eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“Come, come, we’ve had enough of this!” cried Guerchard, in +mingled astonishment, anger, and alarm. “Bonavent! Boursin! Dieusy! Here! +Help! Help!” he shouted. +</p> + +<p> +“Now listen, Guerchard, and understand that I’m not +humbugging,” said Lupin quickly, in clear, compelling tones. “If +Sonia, just now, had had one word, one gesture of contempt for me, I’d +have given way—yielded ... half-yielded, at any rate; for, rather than +fall into your triumphant clutches, I’d have blown my brains out. +I’ve now to choose between happiness, life with Sonia, or prison. Well, +I’ve chosen. I will live happy with her, or else, my dear Guerchard, +I’ll die with you. Now let your men come—I’m ready for +them.” +</p> + +<p> +Guerchard ran to the door and shouted again. +</p> + +<p> +“I think the fat’s in the fire now,” said Lupin, laughing. +</p> + +<p> +He sprang to the table, opened the cardboard box, whipped off the top layer of +cotton-wool, and took out a shining bomb. +</p> + +<p> +He sprang to the wall, pressed the button, the bookshelf glided slowly to one +side, the lift rose to the level of the floor and its doors flew open just as +the detectives rushed in. +</p> + +<p> +“Collar him!” yelled Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Stand back—hands up!” cried Lupin, in a terrible voice, +raising his right hand high above his head. “You know what this is ... a +bomb.... Come and collar me now, you swine! ... Hands up, you ... +Guerchard!” +</p> + +<p> +“You silly funks!” roared Guerchard. “Do you think he’d +dare?” +</p> + +<p> +“Come and see!” cried Lupin. +</p> + +<p> +“I will!” cried Guerchard. And he took a step forward. +</p> + +<p> +As one man his detectives threw themselves upon him. Three of them gripped his +arms, a fourth gripped him round the waist; and they all shouted at him +together, not to be a madman! ... To look at Lupin’s eyes! ... That Lupin +was off his head! +</p> + +<p> +“What miserable swine you are!” cried Lupin scornfully. He sprang +forward, caught up the kit-bag in his left hand, and tossed it behind him into +the lift. “You dirty crew!” he cried again. “Oh, why +isn’t there a photographer here? And now, Guerchard, you thief, give me +back my pocket-book.” +</p> + +<p> +“Never!” screamed Guerchard, struggling with his men, purple with +fury. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, Lord, master! Do be careful! Don’t rile him!” cried +Bonavent in an agony. +</p> + +<p> +“What? Do you want me to smash up the whole lot?” roared Lupin, in +a furious, terrible voice. “Do I look as if I were bluffing, you +fools?” +</p> + +<p> +“Let him have his way, master!” cried Dieusy. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, yes!” cried Bonavent. +</p> + +<p> +“Let him have his way!” cried another. +</p> + +<p> +“Give him his pocket-book!” cried a third. +</p> + +<p> +“Never!” howled Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s in his pocket—his breast-pocket! Be smart!” +roared Lupin. +</p> + +<p> +“Come, come, it’s got to be given to him,” cried Bonavent. +“Hold the master tight!” And he thrust his hand into the breast of +Guerchard’s coat, and tore out the pocket-book. +</p> + +<p> +“Throw it on the table!” cried Lupin. +</p> + +<p> +Bonavent threw it on to the table; and it slid along it right to Lupin. He +caught it in his left hand, and slipped it into his pocket. “Good!” +he said. And then he yelled ferociously, “Look out for the bomb!” +and made a feint of throwing it. +</p> + +<p> +The whole group fell back with an odd, unanimous, sighing groan. +</p> + +<p> +Lupin sprang into the lift, and the doors closed over the opening. There was a +great sigh of relief from the frightened detectives, and then the chunking of +machinery as the lift sank. +</p> + +<p> +Their grip on Guerchard loosened. He shook himself free, and shouted, +“After him! You’ve got to make up for this! Down into the cellars, +some of you! Others go to the secret entrance! Others to the servants’ +entrance! Get into the street! Be smart! Dieusy, take the lift with me!” +</p> + +<p> +The others ran out of the room and down the stairs, but with no great +heartiness, since their minds were still quite full of the bomb, and Lupin +still had it with him. Guerchard and Dieusy dashed at the doors of the opening +of the lift-well, pulling and wrenching at them. Suddenly there was a click; +and they heard the grunting of the machinery. There was a little bump and a +jerk, the doors flew open of themselves; and there was the lift, empty, ready +for them. They jumped into it; Guerchard’s quick eye caught the button, +and he pressed it. The doors banged to, and, to his horror, the lift shot +upwards about eight feet, and stuck between the floors. +</p> + +<p> +As the lift stuck, a second compartment, exactly like the one Guerchard and +Dieusy were in, came up to the level of the floor of the smoking-room; the +doors opened, and there was Lupin. But again how changed! The clothes of the +Duke of Charmerace littered the floor; the kit-bag was open; and he was wearing +the very clothes of Chief-Inspector Guerchard, his seedy top-hat, his cloak. He +wore also Guerchard’s sparse, lank, black hair, his little, bristling, +black moustache. His figure, hidden by the cloak, seemed to have shrunk to the +size of Guerchard’s. +</p> + +<p> +He sat before a mirror in the wall of the lift, a make-up box on the seat +beside him. He darkened his eyebrows, and put a line or two about his eyes. +That done he looked at himself earnestly for two or three minutes; and, as he +looked, a truly marvellous transformation took place: the features of Arsène +Lupin, of the Duke of Charmerace, decomposed, actually decomposed, into the +features of Jean Guerchard. He looked at himself and laughed, the gentle, husky +laugh of Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +He rose, transferred the pocket-book to the coat he was wearing, picked up the +bomb, came out into the smoking-room, and listened. A muffled roaring thumping +came from the well of the lift. It almost sounded as if, in their exasperation, +Guerchard and Dieusy were engaged in a struggle to the death. Smiling +pleasantly, he stole to the window and looked out. His eyes brightened at the +sight of the motor-car, Guerchard’s car, waiting just before the front +door and in charge of a policeman. He stole to the head of the stairs, and +looked down into the hall. Victoire was sitting huddled together on a chair; +Sonia stood beside her, talking to her in a low voice; and, keeping guard on +Victoire, stood a brown-faced, active, nervous policeman, all alertness, +briskness, keenness. +</p> + +<p> +“Hi! officer! come up here! Be smart,” cried Lupin over the +bannisters, in the husky, gentle voice of Chief-Inspector Guerchard. +</p> + +<p> +The policeman looked up, recognized the great detective, and came bounding +zealously up the stairs. +</p> + +<p> +Lupin led the way through the anteroom into the sitting-room. Then he said +sharply: “You have your revolver?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said the young policeman. And he drew it with a flourish. +</p> + +<p> +“Put it away! Put it away at once!” said Lupin very smartly. +“You’re not to use it. You’re not to use it on any account! +You understand?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said the policeman firmly; and with a slightly bewildered +air he put the revolver away. +</p> + +<p> +“Here! Stand here!” cried Lupin, raising his voice. And he caught +the policeman’s arm, and hustled him roughly to the front of the doors of +the lift-well. “Do you see these doors? Do you see them?” he +snapped. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, yes,” said the policeman, glaring at them. +</p> + +<p> +“They’re the doors of a lift,” said Lupin. “In that +lift are Dieusy and Lupin. You know Dieusy?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, yes,” said the policeman. +</p> + +<p> +“There are only Dieusy and Lupin in the lift. They are struggling +together. You can hear them,” shouted Lupin in the policeman’s ear. +“Lupin is disguised. You understand—Dieusy and a disguised man are +in the lift. The disguised man is Lupin. Directly the lift descends and the +doors open, throw yourself on him! Hold him! Shout for assistance!” He +almost bellowed the last words into the policeman’s ear. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, yes,” said the policeman. And he braced himself before the +doors of the lift-well, gazing at them with harried eyes, as if he expected +them to bite him. +</p> + +<p> +“Be brave! Be ready to die in the discharge of your duty!” bellowed +Lupin; and he walked out of the room, shut the door, and turned the key. +</p> + +<p> +The policeman stood listening to the noise of the struggle in the lift, himself +strung up to fighting point; he was panting. Lupin’s instructions were +whirling and dancing in his head. +</p> + +<p> +Lupin went quietly down the stairs. Victoire and Sonia saw him coming. Victoire +rose; and as he came to the bottom of the stairs Sonia stepped forward and said +in an anxious, pleading voice: +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, M. Guerchard, where is he?” +</p> + +<p> +“He’s here,” said Lupin, in his natural voice. +</p> + +<p> +Sonia sprang to him with outstretched arms. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s you! It IS you!” she cried. +</p> + +<p> +“Just look how like him I am!” said Lupin, laughing triumphantly. +“But do I look quite ruffian enough?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, NO! You couldn’t!” cried Sonia. +</p> + +<p> +“Isn’t he a wonder?” said Victoire. +</p> + +<p> +“This time the Duke of Charmerace is dead, for good and all,” said +Lupin. +</p> + +<p> +“No; it’s Lupin that’s dead,” said Sonia softly. +</p> + +<p> +“Lupin?” he said, surprised. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said Sonia firmly. +</p> + +<p> +“It would be a terrible loss, you know—a loss for France,” +said Lupin gravely. +</p> + +<p> +“Never mind,” said Sonia. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I must be in love with you!” said Lupin, in a wondering tone; +and he put his arm round her and kissed her violently. +</p> + +<p> +“And you won’t steal any more?” said Sonia, holding him back +with both hands on his shoulders, looking into his eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“I shouldn’t dream of such a thing,” said Lupin. “You +are here. Guerchard is in the lift. What more could I possibly desire?” +His voice softened and grew infinitely caressing as he went on: “Yet when +you are at my side I shall always have the soul of a lover and the soul of a +thief. I long to steal your kisses, your thoughts, the whole of your heart. Ah, +Sonia, if you want me to steal nothing else, you have only to stay by my +side.” +</p> + +<p> +Their lips met in a long kiss. +</p> + +<p> +Sonia drew herself out of his arms and cried, “But we’re wasting +time! We must make haste! We must fly!” +</p> + +<p> +“Fly?” said Lupin sharply. “No, thank you; never again. I did +flying enough last night to last me a lifetime. For the rest of my life +I’m going to crawl—crawl like a snail. But come along, you two, I +must take you to the police-station.” +</p> + +<p> +He opened the front door, and they came out on the steps. The policeman in +charge of the car saluted. +</p> + +<p> +Lupin paused and said softly: “Hark! I hear the sound of wedding +bells.” +</p> + +<p> +They went down the steps. +</p> + +<p> +Even as they were getting into the car some chance blow of Guerchard or Dieusy +struck a hidden spring and released the lift. It sank to the level of +Lupin’s smoking-room and stopped. The doors flew open, Dieusy and +Guerchard sprang out of it; and on the instant the brown-faced, nervous +policeman sprang actively on Guerchard and pinned him. Taken by surprise, +Guerchard yelled loudly, “You stupid idiot!” somehow entangled his +legs in those of his captor, and they rolled on the floor. Dieusy surveyed them +for a moment with blank astonishment. Then, with swift intelligence, grasped +the fact that the policeman was Lupin in disguise. He sprang upon them, tore +them asunder, fell heavily on the policeman, and pinned him to the floor with a +strangling hand on his throat. +</p> + +<p> +Guerchard dashed to the door, tried it, and found it locked, dashed for the +window, threw it open, and thrust out his head. Forty yards down the street a +motor-car was rolling smoothly away—rolling to a honeymoon. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, hang it!” he screamed. “He’s doing a bunk in my +motor-car!” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ARSÈNE LUPIN ***</div> +<div style='text-align:left'> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will +be renamed. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United +States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part +of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project +Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ +concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, +and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following +the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use +of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for +copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very +easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation +of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project +Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away--you may +do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected +by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark +license, especially commercial redistribution. +</div> + +<div style='margin:0.83em 0; font-size:1.1em; text-align:center'>START: FULL LICENSE<br /> +<span style='font-size:smaller'>THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE<br /> +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK</span> +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +To protect the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project +Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full +Project Gutenberg™ License available with this file or online at +www.gutenberg.org/license. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg™ +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or +destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in your +possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a +Project Gutenberg™ electronic work and you do not agree to be bound +by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person +or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.B. “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg™ electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg™ electronic works if you follow the terms of this +agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg™ +electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the +Foundation” or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection +of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works. Nearly all the individual +works in the collection are in the public domain in the United +States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the +United States and you are located in the United States, we do not +claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, +displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as +all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope +that you will support the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting +free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg™ +works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the +Project Gutenberg™ name associated with the work. You can easily +comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the +same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg™ License when +you share it without charge with others. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are +in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, +check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this +agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, +distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any +other Project Gutenberg™ work. The Foundation makes no +representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any +country other than the United States. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other +immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg™ License must appear +prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg™ work (any work +on which the phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the +phrase “Project Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, +performed, viewed, copied or distributed: +</div> + +<blockquote> + <div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> + This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most + other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions + whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms + of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online + at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you + are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws + of the country where you are located before using this eBook. + </div> +</blockquote> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is +derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not +contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the +copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in +the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are +redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase “Project +Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply +either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or +obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg™ +trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any +additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms +will be linked to the Project Gutenberg™ License for all works +posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the +beginning of this work. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg™ +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg™. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg™ License. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including +any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access +to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg™ work in a format +other than “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official +version posted on the official Project Gutenberg™ website +(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense +to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means +of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original “Plain +Vanilla ASCII” or other form. Any alternate format must include the +full Project Gutenberg™ License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg™ works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works +provided that: +</div> + +<div style='margin-left:0.7em;'> + <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> + • You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg™ works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed + to the owner of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark, but he has + agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project + Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid + within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are + legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty + payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project + Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in + Section 4, “Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg + Literary Archive Foundation.” + </div> + + <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> + • You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg™ + License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all + copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue + all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg™ + works. + </div> + + <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> + • You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of + any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of + receipt of the work. + </div> + + <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> + • You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg™ works. + </div> +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project +Gutenberg™ electronic work or group of works on different terms than +are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing +from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of +the Project Gutenberg™ trademark. Contact the Foundation as set +forth in Section 3 below. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.F. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project +Gutenberg™ collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg™ +electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may +contain “Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate +or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other +intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or +other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or +cannot be read by your equipment. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the “Right +of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg™ trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg™ electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium +with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you +with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in +lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person +or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second +opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If +the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing +without further opportunities to fix the problem. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you ‘AS-IS’, WITH NO +OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT +LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of +damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement +violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the +agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or +limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or +unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the +remaining provisions. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in +accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the +production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg™ +electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, +including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of +the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this +or any Project Gutenberg™ work, (b) alteration, modification, or +additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg™ work, and (c) any +Defect you cause. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg™ +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Project Gutenberg™ is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of +computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It +exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations +from people in all walks of life. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg™’s +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg™ collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg™ and future +generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see +Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at www.gutenberg.org. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation’s EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by +U.S. federal laws and your state’s laws. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +The Foundation’s business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, +Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up +to date contact information can be found at the Foundation’s website +and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact +</div> + +<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Project Gutenberg™ depends upon and cannot survive without widespread +public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND +DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular state +visit <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/donate/">www.gutenberg.org/donate</a>. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To +donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate +</div> + +<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg™ electronic works +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project +Gutenberg™ concept of a library of electronic works that could be +freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and +distributed Project Gutenberg™ eBooks with only a loose network of +volunteer support. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Project Gutenberg™ eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in +the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not +necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper +edition. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Most people start at our website which has the main PG search +facility: <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +This website includes information about Project Gutenberg™, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. +</div> + +</div> + +</body> + +</html> + + |