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diff --git a/old/hlwnd10.txt b/old/hlwnd10.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..dbb1214 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/hlwnd10.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9552 @@ +The Project Gutenberg Etext of The Hollow Needle, by Maurice Leblanc +#2 in our series by Maurice Leblanc + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world, be sure to check +the laws for your country before redistributing these files!!! + +Please take a look at the important information in this header. +We encourage you to keep this file on your own disk, keeping an +electronic path open for the next readers. + +Please do not remove this. + +This should be the first thing seen when anyone opens the book. +Do not change or edit it without written permission. 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The Treasures of the Kings of France + + + + +ILLUSTRATIONS + +Valmeras loved Raymonde's melancholy charm + +She put the gun to her shoulder, calmly took aim and fired + +Two huge letters, each perhaps a foot long, appeared cut in relief +in the granite of the floor + +"We're going now. What do you think of my cockle-shell, Beautrelet?" + + + + + + +THE HOLLOW NEEDLE + + + + +CHAPTER ONE + +THE SHOT + + +Raymonde listened. The noise was repeated twice over, clearly enough +to be distinguished from the medley of vague sounds that formed the +great silence of the night and yet too faintly to enable her to tell +whether it was near or far, within the walls of the big country- +house, or outside, among the murky recesses of the park. + +She rose softly. Her window was half open: she flung it back wide. +The moonlight lay over a peaceful landscape of lawns and thickets, +against which the straggling ruins of the old abbey stood out in +tragic outlines, truncated columns, mutilated arches, fragments of +porches and shreds of flying buttresses. A light breeze hovered over +the face of things, gliding noiselessly through the bare motionless +branches of the trees, but shaking the tiny budding leaves of the +shrubs. + +And, suddenly, she heard the same sound again. It was on the left +and on the floor below her, in the living rooms, therefore, that +occupied the left wing of the house. Brave and plucky though she +was, the girl felt afraid. She slipped on her dressing gown and took +the matches. + +"Raymonde--Raymonde!" + +A voice as low as a breath was calling to her from the next room, +the door of which had not been closed. She was feeling her way +there, when Suzanne, her cousin, came out of the room and fell into +her arms: + +"Raymonde--is that you? Did you hear--?" + +"Yes. So you're not asleep?" + +"I suppose the dog woke me--some time ago. But he's not barking now. +What time is it?" + +"About four." + +"Listen! Surely, some one's walking in the drawing room!" + +"There's no danger, your father is down there, Suzanne." + +"But there is danger for him. His room is next to the boudoir." + +"M. Daval is there too--" + +"At the other end of the house. He could never hear." + +They hesitated, not knowing what course to decide upon. Should they +call out? Cry for help? They dared not; they were frightened of the +sound of their own voices. But Suzanne, who had gone to the window, +suppressed a scream: + +"Look!--A man!--Near the fountain!" + +A man was walking away at a rapid pace. He carried under his arm a +fairly large load, the nature of which they were unable to +distinguish: it knocked against his leg and impeded his progress. +They saw him pass near the old chapel and turn toward a little door +in the wall. The door must have been open, for the man disappeared +suddenly from view and they failed to hear the usual grating of the +hinges. + +"He came from the drawing room," whispered Suzanne. + +"No, the stairs and the hall would have brought him out more to the +left--Unless--" + +The same idea struck them both. They leant out. Below them, a ladder +stood against the front of the house, resting on the first floor. A +glimmer lit up the stone balcony. And another man, who was also +carrying something, bestrode the baluster, slid down the ladder and +ran away by the same road as the first. + +Suzanne, scared to the verge of swooning, fell on her knees, +stammering: + +"Let us call out--let us call for help--" + +"Who would come? Your father--and if there are more of them left-- +and they throw themselves upon him--?" + +"Then--then--we might call the servants--Your bell rings on their +floor." + +"Yes--yes--perhaps, that's better. If only they come in time!" + +Raymonde felt for the electric push near her bed and pressed it with +her finger. They heard the bell ring upstairs and had an impression +that its shrill sound must also reach any one below. + +They waited. The silence became terrifying and the very breeze no +longer shook the leaves of the shrubs. + +"I'm frightened--frightened," said Suzanne. + +And, suddenly, from the profound darkness below them, came the sound +of a struggle, a crash of furniture overturned, words, exclamations +and then, horrible and ominous, a hoarse groan, the gurgle of a man +who is being murdered-- + +Raymonde leapt toward the door. Suzanne clung desperately to her +arm: + +"No--no--don't leave me--I'm frightened--" + +Raymonde pushed her aside and darted down the corridor, followed by +Suzanne, who staggered from wall to wall, screaming as she went. +Raymonde reached the staircase, flew down the stairs, flung herself +upon the door of the big drawing room and stopped short, rooted to +the threshold, while Suzanne sank in a heap by her side. Facing +them, at three steps' distance, stood a man, with a lantern in his +hand. He turned it upon the two girls, blinding them with the light, +stared long at their pale faces, and then, without hurrying, with +the calmest movements in the world, took his cap, picked up a scrap +of paper and two bits of straw, removed some footmarks from the +carpet, went to the balcony, turned to the girls, made them a deep +bow and disappeared. + +Suzanne was the first to run to the little boudoir which separated +the big drawing-room from her father's bedroom. But, at the +entrance, a hideous sight appalled her. By the slanting rays of the +moon, she saw two apparently lifeless bodies lying close to each +other on the floor. She leaned over one of them: + +"Father!--Father!--Is it you? What has happened to you?" she cried, +distractedly. + +After a moment, the Comte de Gesvres moved. In a broken voice, he +said: + +"Don't be afraid--I am not wounded--Daval?--Is he alive?--The +knife?--The knife?--" + +Two men-servants now arrived with candles. Raymonde flung herself +down before the other body and recognized Jean Daval, the count's +private secretary. A little stream of blood trickled from his neck. +His face already wore the pallor of death. + +Then she rose, returned to the drawing room, took a gun that hung in +a trophy of arms on the wall and went out on the balcony. Not more +than fifty or sixty seconds had elapsed since the man had set his +foot on the top rung of the ladder. He could not, therefore, be very +far away, the more so as he had taken the precaution to remove the +ladder, in order to prevent the inmates of the house from using it. +And soon she saw him skirting the remains of the old cloister. She +put the gun to her shoulder, calmly took aim and fired. The man +fell. + +"That's done it! That's done it!" said one of the servants. "We've +got this one. I'll run down." + +"No, Victor, he's getting up.... You had better go down by the +staircase and make straight for the little door in the wall. That's +the only way he can escape." + +Victor hurried off, but, before he reached the park, the man fell +down again. Raymonde called the other servant: + +"Albert, do you see him down there? Near the main cloister?--" + +"Yes, he's crawling in the grass. He's done for--" + +"Watch him from here." + +"There's no way of escape for him. On the right of the ruins is the +open lawn--" + +"And, Victor, do you guard the door, on the left," she said, taking +up her gun. + +"But, surely, you are not going down, miss?" + +"Yes, yes," she said, with a resolute accent and abrupt movements; +"let me be--I have a cartridge left--If he stirs--" + +She went out. A moment later, Albert saw her going toward the ruins. +He called to her from the window: + +"He's dragged himself behind the cloister. I can't see him. Be +careful, miss--" + +Raymonde went round the old cloisters, to cut off the man's retreat, +and Albert soon lost sight of her. After a few minutes, as he did +not see her return, he became uneasy and, keeping his eye on the +ruins, instead of going down by the stairs he made an effort to +reach the ladder. When he had succeeded, he scrambled down and ran +straight to the cloisters near which he had seen the man last. +Thirty paces farther, he found Raymonde, who was searching with +Victor. + +"Well?" he asked. + +"There's no laying one's hands on him," replied Victor. + +"The little door?" + +"I've been there; here's the key." + +"Still--he must--" + +"Oh, we've got him safe enough, the scoundrel--He'll be ours in ten +minutes." + +The farmer and his son, awakened by the shot, now came from the farm +buildings, which were at some distance on the right, but within the +circuit of the walls. They had met no one. + +"Of course not," said Albert. "The ruffian can't have left the +ruins--We'll dig him out of some hole or other." + +They organized a methodical search, beating every bush, pulling +aside the heavy masses of ivy rolled round the shafts of the +columns. They made sure that the chapel was properly locked and that +none of the panes were broken. They went round the cloisters and +examined every nook and corner. The search was fruitless. + +There was but one discovery: at the place where the man had fallen +under Raymonde's gun, they picked up a chauffeur's cap, in very soft +buff leather; besides that, nothing. + + * * * * * + +The gendarmerie of Ouville-la-Riviere were informed at six o'clock +in the morning and at once proceeded to the spot, after sending an +express to the authorities at Dieppe with a note describing the +circumstances of the crime, the imminent capture of the chief +criminal and "the discovery of his headgear and of the dagger with +which the crime had been committed." + +At ten o'clock, two hired conveyances came down the gentle slope +that led to the house. One of them, an old-fashioned calash, +contained the deputy public prosecutor and the examining magistrate, +accompanied by his clerk. In the other, a humble fly, were seated +two reporters, representing the Journal de Rouen and a great Paris +paper. + +The old chateau came into view--once the abbey residence of the +priors of Ambrumesy, mutilated under the Revolution, both restored +by the Comte de Gesvres, who had now owned it for some twenty years. +It consists of a main building, surmounted by a pinnacled clock- +tower, and two wings, each of which is surrounded by a flight of +steps with a stone balustrade. Looking across the walls of the park +and beyond the upland supported by the high Norman cliffs, you catch +a glimpse of the blue line of the Channel between the villages of +Sainte-Marguerite and Varengeville. + +Here the Comte de Gesvres lived with his daughter Suzanne, a +delicate, fair-haired, pretty creature, and his niece Raymonde de +Saint-Veran, whom he had taken to live with him two years before, +when the simultaneous death of her father and mother left Raymonde +an orphan. Life at the chateau was peaceful and regular. A few +neighbors paid an occasional visit. In the summer, the count took +the two girls almost every day to Dieppe. He was a tall man, with a +handsome, serious face and hair that was turning gray. He was very +rich, managed his fortune himself and looked after his extensive +estates with the assistance of his secretary, Jean Daval. + +Immediately upon his arrival, the examining magistrate took down the +first observations of Sergeant Quevillon of the gendarmes. The +capture of the criminal, imminent though it might be, had not yet +been effected, but every outlet of the park was held. Escape was +impossible. + +The little company next crossed the chapter-hall and the refectory, +both of which are on the ground floor, and went up to the first +story. They at once remarked the perfect order that prevailed in the +drawing room. Not a piece of furniture, not an ornament but appeared +to occupy its usual place; nor was there any gap among the ornaments +or furniture. On the right and left walls hung magnificent Flemish +tapestries with figures. On the panels of the wall facing the +windows were four fine canvases, in contemporary frames, +representing mythological scenes. These were the famous pictures by +Rubens which had been left to the Comte de Gesvres, together with +the Flemish tapestries, by his maternal uncle, the Marques de +Bobadilla, a Spanish grandee. + +M. Filleul remarked: + +"If the motive of the crime was theft, this drawing room, at any +rate, was not the object of it." + +"You can't tell!" said the deputy, who spoke little, but who, when +he did, invariably opposed the magistrate's views. + +"Why, my dear sir, the first thought of a burglar would be to carry +off those pictures and tapestries, which are universally renowned." + +"Perhaps there was no time." + +"We shall see." + +At that moment, the Comte de Gesvres entered, accompanied by the +doctor. The count, who did not seem to feel the effects of the +attack to which he had been subjected, welcomed the two officials. +Then he opened the door of the boudoir. + +This room, which no one had been allowed to enter since the +discovery of the crime, differed from the drawing room inasmuch as +it presented a scene of the greatest disorder. Two chairs were +overturned, one of the tables smashed to pieces and several objects +--a traveling-clock, a portfolio, a box of stationery--lay on the +floor. And there was blood on some of the scattered pieces of note- +paper. + +The doctor turned back the sheet that covered the corpse. Jean +Daval, dressed in his usual velvet suit, with a pair of nailed boots +on his feet, lay stretched on his back, with one arm folded beneath +him. His collar and tie had been removed and his shirt opened, +revealing a large wound in the chest. + +"Death must have been instantaneous," declared the doctor. "One blow +of the knife was enough." + +"It was, no doubt, the knife which I saw on the drawing-room +mantelpiece, next to a leather cap?" said the examining magistrate. + +"Yes," said the Comte de Gesvres, "the knife was picked up here. It +comes from the same trophy in the drawing room from which my niece, +Mlle. de Saint-Veran, snatched the gun. As for the chauffeur's cap, +that evidently belongs to the murderer." + +M. Filleul examined certain further details in the room, put a few +questions to the doctor and then asked M. de Gesvres to tell him +what he had seen and heard. The count worded his story as follows: + +"Jean Daval woke me up. I had been sleeping badly, for that matter, +with gleams of consciousness in which I seemed to hear noises, when, +suddenly opening my eyes, I saw Daval standing at the foot of my +bed, with his candle in his hand and fully dressed--as he is now, +for he often worked late into the night. He seemed greatly excited +and said, in a low voice: 'There's some one in the drawing room.' I +heard a noise myself. I got up and softly pushed the door leading to +this boudoir. At the same moment, the door over there, which opens +into the big drawing room, was thrown back and a man appeared who +leaped at me and stunned me with a blow on the temple. I am telling +you this without any details, Monsieur le Juge d'Instruction, for +the simple reason that I remember only the principal facts, and that +these facts followed upon one another with extraordinary swiftness." + +"And after that?--" + +"After that, I don't know--I fainted. When I came to, Daval lay +stretched by my side, mortally wounded." + +"At first sight, do you suspect no one?" + +"No one." + +"You have no enemy?" + +"I know of none." + +"Nor M. Daval either?" + +"Daval! An enemy? He was the best creature that ever lived. M. Daval +was my secretary for twenty years and, I may say, my confidant; and +I have never seen him surrounded with anything but love and +friendship." + +"Still, there has been a burglary and there has been a murder: there +must be a motive for all that." + +"The motive? Why, it was robbery pure and simple." + +"Robbery? Have you been robbed of something, then?" + +"No, nothing." + +"In that case--?" + +"In that case, if they have stolen nothing and if nothing is +missing, they at least took something away." + +"What?" + +"I don't know. But my daughter and my niece will tell you, with +absolute certainty, that they saw two men in succession cross the +park and that those two men were carrying fairly heavy loads." + +"The young ladies--" + +"The young ladies may have been dreaming, you think? I should be +tempted to believe it, for I have been exhausting myself in +inquiries and suppositions ever since this morning. However, it is +easy enough to question them." + +The two cousins were sent for to the big drawing room. Suzanne, +still quite pale and trembling, could hardly speak. Raymonde, who +was more energetic, more of a man, better looking, too, with the +golden glint in her brown eyes, described the events of the night +and the part which she had played in them. + +"So I may take it, mademoiselle, that your evidence is positive?" + +"Absolutely. The men who went across the park were carrying things +away with them." + +"And the third man?" + +"He went from here empty-handed." + +"Could you describe him to us?" + +"He kept on dazzling us with the light of his lantern. All that I +could say is that he is tall and heavily built." + +"Is that how he appeared to you, mademoiselle?" asked the +magistrate, turning to Suzanne de Gesvres. + +"Yes--or, rather, no," said Suzanne, reflecting. "I thought he was +about the middle height and slender." + +M. Filleul smiled; he was accustomed to differences of opinion and +sight in witnesses to one and the same fact: + +"So we have to do, on the one hand, with a man, the one in the +drawing room, who is, at the same time, tall and short, stout and +thin, and, on the other, with two men, those in the park, who are +accused of removing from that drawing room objects--which are still +here!" + +M. Filleul was a magistrate of the ironic school, as he himself +would say. He was also a very ambitious magistrate and one who did +not object to an audience nor to an occasion to display his tactful +resource in public, as was shown by the increasing number of persons +who now crowded into the room. The journalists had been joined by +the farmer and his son, the gardener and his wife, the indoor +servants of the chateau and the two cabmen who had driven the flies +from Dieppe. + +M. Filleul continued: + +"There is also the question of agreeing upon the way in which the +third person disappeared. Was this the gun you fired, mademoiselle, +and from this window?" + +"Yes. The man reached the tombstone which is almost buried under the +brambles, to the left of the cloisters." + +"But he got up again?" + +"Only half. Victor ran down at once to guard the little door and I +followed him, leaving the second footman, Albert, to keep watch +here." + +Albert now gave his evidence and the magistrate concluded: + +"So, according to you, the wounded man was not able to escape on the +left, because your fellow-servant was watching the door, nor on the +right, because you would have seen him cross the lawn. Logically, +therefore, he is, at the present moment, in the comparatively +restricted space that lies before our eyes." + +"I am sure of it." + +"And you, mademoiselle?" + +"Yes." + +"And I, too," said Victor. + +The deputy prosecutor exclaimed, with a leer: + +"The field of inquiry is quite narrow. We have only to continue the +search commenced four hours ago." + +"We may be more fortunate." + +M. Filleul took the leather cap from the mantel, examined it and, +beckoning to the sergeant of gendarmes, whispered: + +"Sergeant, send one of your men to Dieppe at once. Tell him to go to +Maigret, the hatter, in the Rue de la Barre, and ask M. Maigret to +tell him, if possible, to whom this cap was sold." + +The "field of inquiry," in the deputy's phrase, was limited to the +space contained between the house, the lawn on the right and the +angle formed by the left wall and the wall opposite the house, that +is to say, a quadrilateral of about a hundred yards each way, in +which the ruins of Ambrumesy, the famous mediaeval monastery, stood +out at intervals. + +They at once noticed the traces left by the fugitive in the trampled +grass. In two places, marks of blackened blood, now almost dried up, +were observed. After the turn at the end of the cloisters, there was +nothing more to be seen, as the nature of the ground, here covered +with pine-needles, did not lend itself to the imprint of a body. +But, in that case, how had the wounded man succeeded in escaping the +eyes of Raymonde, Victor and Albert? There was nothing but a few +brakes, which the servants and the gendarmes had beaten over and +over again, and a number of tombstones, under which they had +explored. The examining magistrate made the gardener, who had the +key, open the chapel, a real gem of carving, a shrine in stone which +had been respected by time and the revolutionaries, and which, with +the delicate sculpture work of its porch and its miniature +population of statuettes, was always looked upon as a marvelous +specimen of the Norman-Gothic style. The chapel, which was very +simple in the interior, with no other ornament than its marble +altar, offered no hiding-place. Besides, the fugitive would have had +to obtain admission. And by what means? + +The inspection brought them to the little door in the wall that +served as an entrance for the visitors to the ruins. It opened on a +sunk road running between the park wall and a copsewood containing +some abandoned quarries. M. Filleul stooped forward: the dust of the +road bore marks of anti-skid pneumatic tires. Raymonde and Victor +remembered that, after the shot, they had seemed to hear the throb +of a motor-car. + +The magistrate suggested: + +"The man must have joined his confederates." + +"Impossible!" cried Victor. "I was here while mademoiselle and +Albert still had him in view." + +"Nonsense, he must be somewhere! Outside or inside: we have no +choice!" + +"He is here," the servants insisted, obstinately. + +The magistrate shrugged his shoulders and went back to the house in +a more or less sullen mood. There was no doubt that it was an +unpromising case. A theft in which nothing had been stolen; an +invisible prisoner: what could be less satisfactory? + +It was late. M. de Gesvres asked the officials and the two +journalists to stay to lunch. They ate in silence and then M. +Filleul returned to the drawing room, where he questioned the +servants. But the sound of a horse's hoofs came from the courtyard +and, a moment after, the gendarme who had been sent to Dieppe +entered. + +"Well, did you see the hatter?" exclaimed the magistrate, eager at +last to obtain some positive information. + +"I saw M. Maigret. The cap was sold to a cab-driver." + +"A cab-driver!" + +"Yes, a driver who stopped his fly before the shop and asked to be +supplied with a yellow-leather chauffeur's cap for one of his +customers. This was the only one left. He paid for it, without +troubling about the size, and drove off. He was in a great hurry." + +"What sort of fly was it?" + +"A calash." + +"And on what day did this happen?" + +"On what day? Why, to-day, at eight o'clock this morning." + +"This morning? What are you talking about?" + +"The cap was bought this morning." + +"But that's impossible, because it was found last night in the park. +If it was found there, it must have been there; and, consequently, +it must have been bought before." + +"The hatter told me it was bought this morning." + +There was a moment of general bewilderment. The nonplussed +magistrate strove to understand. Suddenly, he started, as though +struck with a gleam of light: + +"Fetch the cabman who brought us here this morning! The man who +drove the calash! Fetch him at once!" + +The sergeant of gendarmes and his subordinate ran off to the +stables. In a few minutes, the sergeant returned alone. + +"Where's the cabman?" + +"He asked for food in the kitchen, ate his lunch and then--" + +"And then--?" + +"He went off." + +"With his fly?" + +"No. Pretending that he wanted to go and see a relation at Ouville, +he borrowed the groom's bicycle. Here are his hat and greatcoat." + +"But did he leave bare-headed?" + +"No, he took a cap from his pocket and put it on." + +"A cap?" + +"Yes, a yellow leather cap, it seems." + +"A yellow leather cap? Why, no, we've got it here!" + +"That's true, Monsieur le Juge d'Instruction, but his is just like +it." + +The deputy sniggered: + +"Very funny! Most amusing! There are two caps--One, the real one, +which constituted our only piece of evidence, has gone off on the +head of the sham flyman! The other, the false one, is in your hands. +Oh, the fellow has had us nicely!" + +"Catch him! Fetch him back!" cried M. Filleul. "Two of your men on +horseback, Sergeant Quevillon, and at full speed!" + +"He is far away by this time," said the deputy. + +"He can be as far as he pleases, but still we must lay hold of him." + +"I hope so; but I think, Monsieur le Juge d'Instruction, that your +efforts should be concentrated here above all. Would you mind +reading this scrap of paper, which I have just found in the pocket +of the coat?" + +"Which coat?" + +"The driver's." + +And the deputy prosecutor handed M. Filleul a piece of paper, folded +in four, containing these few words written in pencil, in a more or +less common hand: + +"Woe betide the young lady, if she has killed the governor!" + +The incident caused a certain stir. + +"A word to the wise!" muttered the deputy. "We are now forewarned." + +"Monsieur le Comte," said the examining magistrate, "I beg you not +to be alarmed. Nor you either, mademoiselle. This threat is of no +importance, as the police are on the spot. We shall take every +precaution and I will answer for your safety. As for you, gentlemen. +I rely on your discretion. You have been present at this inquiry, +thanks to my excessive kindness toward the Press, and it would be +making me an ill return--" + +He interrupted himself, as though an idea had struck him, looked at +the two young men, one after the other, and, going up to the first, +asked: + +"What paper do you represent, sir?" + +"The Journal de Rouen." + +"Have you your credentials?" + +"Here." + +The card was in order. There was no more to be said. M. Filleul +turned to the other reporter: + +"And you, sir?" + +"I?" + +"Yes, you: what paper do you belong to?" + +"Why, Monsieur le Juge d'Instruction, I write for a number of +papers--all over the place--" + +"Your credentials?" + +"I haven't any." + +"Oh! How is that?" + +"For a newspaper to give you a card, you have to be on its regular +staff." + +"Well?" + +"Well, I am only an occasional contributor, a free-lance. I send +articles to this newspaper and that. They are published or declined +according to circumstances." + +"In that case, what is your name? Where are your papers?" + +"My name would tell you nothing. As for papers, I have none." + +"You have no paper of any kind to prove your profession!" + +"I have no profession." + +"But look here, sir," cried the magistrate, with a certain asperity, +"you can't expect to preserve your incognito after introducing +yourself here by a trick and surprising the secrets of the police!" + +"I beg to remark, Monsieur le Juge d'Instruction, that you asked me +nothing when I came in, and that therefore I had nothing to say. +Besides, it never struck me that your inquiry was secret, when +everybody was admitted--including even one of the criminals!" + +He spoke softly, in a tone of infinite politeness. He was quite a +young man, very tall, very slender and dressed without the least +attempt at fashion, in a jacket and trousers both too small for him. +He had a pink face like a girl's, a broad forehead topped with +close-cropped hair, and a scrubby and ill-trimmed fair beard. His +bright eyes gleamed with intelligence. He seemed not in the least +embarrassed and wore a pleasant smile, free from any shade of +banter. + +M. Filleul looked at him with an aggressive air of distrust. The two +gendarmes came forward. The young man exclaimed, gaily: + +"Monsieur le Juge d'Instruction, you clearly suspect me of being an +accomplice. But, if that were so, would I not have slipped away at +the right moment, following the example of my fellow-criminal?" + +"You might have hoped--" + +"Any hope would have been absurd. A moment's reflection, Monsieur le +Juge d'Instruction, will make you agree with me that, logically +speaking--" + +M. Filleul looked him straight in the eyes and said, sharply: + +"No more jokes! Your name?" + +"Isidore Beautrelet." + +"Your occupation?" + +"Sixth-form pupil at the Lycee Janson-de-Sailly." + +M. Filleul opened a pair of startled eyes. + +"What are you talking about? Sixth-form pupil--" + +"At the Lycee Janson, Rue de la Pompe, number--" + +"Oh, look here," exclaimed M. Filleul, "you're trying to take me in! +This won't do, you know; a joke can go too far!" + +"I must say, Monsieur le Juge d'Instruction, that your astonishment +surprises me. What is there to prevent my being a sixth-form pupil +at the Lycee Janson? My beard, perhaps? Set your mind at ease: my +beard is false!" + +Isidore Beautrelet pulled off the few curls that adorned his chin, +and his beardless face appeared still younger and pinker, a genuine +schoolboy's face. And, with a laugh like a child's, revealing his +white teeth: + +"Are you convinced now?" he asked. "Do you want more proofs? Here, +you can read the address on these letters from my father: 'To +Monsieur Isidore Beautrelet, Indoor Pupil, Lycee Janson-de-Sailly.'" + +Convinced or not, M. Filleul did not look as if he liked the story. +He asked, gruffly: + +"What are you doing here?" + +"Why--I'm--I'm improving my mind." + +"There are schools for that: yours, for instance." + +"You forget, Monsieur le Juge d'Instruction, that this is the +twenty-third of April and that we are in the middle of the Easter +holidays." + +"Well?" + +"Well, I have every right to spend my holidays as I please." + +"Your father--" + +"My father lives at the other end of the country, in Savoy, and he +himself advised me to take a little trip on the North Coast." + +"With a false beard?" + +"Oh, no! That's my own idea. At school, we talk a great deal about +mysterious adventures; we read detective stories, in which people +disguise themselves; we imagine any amount of terrible and intricate +cases. So I thought I would amuse myself; and I put on this false +beard. Besides, I enjoyed the advantage of being taken seriously and +I pretended to be a Paris reporter. That is how, last night, after +an uneventful period of more than a week, I had the pleasure of +making the acquaintance of my Rouen colleague; and, this morning, +when he heard of the Ambrumesy murder, he very kindly suggested that +I should come with him and that we should share the cost of a fly." + +Isidore Beautrelet said all this with a frank and artless simplicity +of which it was impossible not to feel the charm. M. Filleul +himself, though maintaining a distrustful reserve, took a certain +pleasure in listening to him. He asked him, in a less peevish tone: + +"And are you satisfied with your expedition?" + +"Delighted! All the more as I had never been present at a case of +the sort and I find that this one is not lacking in interest." + +"Nor in that mysterious intricacy which you prize so highly--" + +"And which is so stimulating, Monsieur le Juge d'Instruction! I know +nothing more exciting than to see all the facts coming up out of the +shadow, clustering together, so to speak, and gradually forming the +probable truth." + +"The probable truth! You go pretty fast, young man! Do you suggest +that you have your little solution of the riddle ready?" + +"Oh, no!" replied Beautrelet, with a laugh. + +"Only--it seems to me that there are certain points on which it is +not impossible to form an opinion; and others, even, are so precise +as to warrant--a conclusion." + +"Oh, but this is becoming very curious and I shall get to know +something at last! For I confess, to my great confusion, that I know +nothing." + +"That is because you have not had time to reflect, Monsieur le Juge +d'Instruction. The great thing is to reflect. Facts very seldom fail +to carry their own explanation!" + +"And, according to you, the facts which we have just ascertained +carry their own explanation?" + +"Don't you think so yourself? In any case, I have ascertained none +besides those which are set down in the official report." + +"Good! So that, if I were to ask you which were the objects stolen +from this room--" + +"I should answer that I know." + +"Bravo! My gentleman knows more about it than the owner himself. M. +de Gesvres has everything accounted for: M. Isidore Beautrelet has +not. He misses a bookcase in three sections and a life-size statue +which nobody ever noticed. And, if I asked you the name of the +murderer?" + +"I should again answer that I know it." + +All present gave a start. The deputy and the journalist drew nearer. +M. de Gesvres and the two girls, impressed by Beautrelet's tranquil +assurance, listened attentively. + +"You know the murderer's name?" + +"Yes." + +"And the place where he is concealed, perhaps?" + +"Yes." + +M. Filleul rubbed his hands. + +"What a piece of luck! This capture will do honor to my career. And +can you make me these startling revelations now?" + +"Yes, now--or rather, if you do not mind, in an hour or two, when I +shall have assisted at your inquiry to the end." + +"No, no, young man, here and now, please." At that moment Raymonde +de Saint-Veran, who had not taken her eyes from Isidore Beautrelet +since the beginning of this scene, came up to M. Filleul: + +"Monsieur le Juge d'Instruction--" + +"Yes, mademoiselle?" + +She hesitated for two or three seconds, with her eyes fixed on +Beautrelet, and then, addressing M. Filleul: + +"I should like you to ask monsieur the reason why he was walking +yesterday in the sunk road which leads up to the little door." + +It was an unexpected and dramatic stroke. Isidore Beautrelet +appeared nonplussed: + +"I, mademoiselle? I? You saw me yesterday?" + +Raymonde remained thoughtful, with her eyes upon Beautrelet, as +though she were trying to settle her own conviction, and then said, +in a steady voice: + +"At four o'clock in the afternoon, as I was crossing the wood, I met +in the sunk road a young man of monsieur's height, dressed like him +and wearing a beard cut in the same way--and I received a very clear +impression that he was trying to hide." + +"And it was I?" + +"I could not say that as an absolute certainty, for my recollection +is a little vague. Still--still, I think so--if not, it would be an +unusual resemblance--" + +M. Filleul was perplexed. Already taken in by one of the +confederates, was he now going to let himself be tricked by this +self-styled schoolboy? Certainly, the young man's manner spoke in +his favor; but one can never tell! + +"What have you to say, sir?" + +"That mademoiselle is mistaken, as I can easily show you with one +word. Yesterday, at the time stated, I was at Veules." + +"You will have to prove it, you will have to. In any case, the +position is not what it was. Sergeant, one of your men will keep +monsieur company." + +Isidore Beautrelet's face denoted a keen vexation. + +"Will it be for long?" + +"Long enough to collect the necessary information." + +"Monsieur le Juge d'Instruction, I beseech you to collect it with +all possible speed and discretion." + +"Why?" + +"My father is an old man. We are very much attached to each other-- +and I would not have him suffer on my account." + +The more or less pathetic note in his voice made a bad impression on +M. Filleul. It suggested a scene in a melodrama. Nevertheless, he +promised: + +"This evening--or to-morrow at latest, I shall know what to think." + +The afternoon was wearing on. The examining magistrate returned to +the ruins of the cloisters, after giving orders that no unauthorized +persons were to be admitted, and patiently, methodically, dividing +the ground into lots which were successively explored, himself +directed the search. But at the end of the day he was no farther +than at the start; and he declared, before an army of reporters who, +during that time, had invaded the chateau: + +"Gentlemen, everything leads us to suppose that the wounded man is +here, within our reach; everything, that is, except the reality, the +fact. Therefore, in our humble opinion, he must have escaped and we +shall find him outside." + +By way of precaution, however, he arranged, with the sergeant of +gendarmes, for a complete watch to be kept over the park and, after +making a fresh examination of the two drawing rooms, visiting the +whole of the chateau and surrounding himself with all the necessary +information, he took the road back to Dieppe, accompanied by the +deputy prosecutor. + + * * * * * + +Night fell. As the boudoir was to remain locked, Jean Daval's body +had been moved to another room. Two women from the neighborhood sat +up with it, assisted by Suzanne and Raymonde. Downstairs, young +Isidore Beautrelet slept on the bench in the old oratory, under the +watchful eye of the village policeman, who had been attached to his +person. Outside, the gendarmes, the farmer and a dozen peasants had +taken up their position among the ruins and along the walls. + +All was still until eleven o'clock; but, at ten minutes past eleven, +a shot echoed from the other side of the house. + +"Attention!" roared the sergeant. "Two men remain here: you, +Fossier--and you, Lecanu--The others at the double!" + +They all rushed forward and ran round the house on the left. A +figure was seen to make away in the dark. Then, suddenly, a second +shot drew them farther on, almost to the borders of the farm. And, +all at once, as they arrived, in a band, at the hedge which lines +the orchard, a flame burst out, to the right of the farmhouse, and +other names also rose in a thick column. It was a barn burning, +stuffed to the ridge with straw. + +"The scoundrels!" shouted the sergeant. "They've set fire to it. +Have at them, lads! They can't be far away!" + +But the wind was turning the flames toward the main building; and it +became necessary, before all things, to ward off the danger. They +all exerted themselves with the greater ardor inasmuch as M. de +Gesvres, hurrying to the scene of the disaster, encouraged them with +the promise of a reward. By the time that they had mastered the +flames, it was two o'clock in the morning. All pursuit would have +been vain. + +"We'll look into it by daylight," said the sergeant. "They are sure +to have left traces: we shall find them." + +"And I shall not be sorry," added M. de Gesvres, "to learn the +reason of this attack. To set fire to trusses of straw strikes me as +a very useless proceeding." + +"Come with me, Monsieur le Comte: I may be able to tell you the +reason." + +Together they reached the ruins of the cloisters. The sergeant +called out: + +"Lecanu!--Fossier!" + +The other gendarmes were already hunting for their comrades whom +they had left standing sentry. They ended by finding them at a few +paces from the little door. The two men were lying full length on +the ground, bound and gagged, with bandages over their eyes. + +"Monsieur le Comte," muttered the sergeant, while his men were being +released; "Monsieur le Comte, we have been tricked like children." + +"How so?" + +"The shots--the attack on the barn--the fire--all so much humbug to +get us down there--a diversion. During that time they were tying up +our two men and the business was done." + +"What business?" + +"Carrying off the wounded man, of course!" + +"You don't mean to say you think--?" + +"Think? Why, it's as plain as a pikestaff! The idea came to me ten +minutes ago--but I'm a fool not to have thought of it earlier. We +should have nabbed them all." Quevillon stamped his foot on the +ground, with a sudden attack of rage. "But where, confound it, where +did they go through? Which way did they carry him off? For, dash it +all, we beat the ground all day; and a man can't hide in a tuft of +grass, especially when he's wounded! It's witchcraft, that's what it +is!--" + +Nor was this the last surprise awaiting Sergeant Quevillon. At dawn, +when they entered the oratory which had been used as a cell for +young Isidore Beautrelet, they realized that young Isidore +Beautrelet had vanished. + +On a chair slept the village policeman, bent in two. By his side +stood a water-bottle and two tumblers. At the bottom of one of those +tumblers a few grains of white powder. + +On examination, it was proved, first, that young Isidore Beautrelet +had administered a sleeping draught to the village policeman; +secondly, that he could only have escaped by a window situated at a +height of seven or eight feet in the wall; and lastly--a charming +detail, this--that he could only have reached this window by using +the back of his warder as a footstool. + + + + +CHAPTER TWO + +ISIDORE BEAUTRELET, SIXTH-FORM SCHOOLBOY + + +From the Grand Journal. + +LATEST NEWS + +DOCTOR DELATTRE KIDNAPPED +A MAD PIECE OF CRIMINAL DARING + +At the moment of going to press, we have received an item of news +which we dare not guarantee as authentic, because of its very +improbable character. We print it, therefore, with all reserve. + +Yesterday evening, Dr. Delattre, the well-known surgeon, was +present, with his wife and daughter, at the performance of Hernani +at the Comedie Francaise. At the commencement of the third act, that +is to say, at about ten o'clock, the door of his box opened and a +gentleman, accompanied by two others, leaned over to the doctor and +said to him, in a low voice, but loud enough for Mme. Delattre to +hear: + +"Doctor, I have a very painful task to fulfil and I shall be very +grateful to you if you will make it as easy for me as you can." + +"Who are you, sir?" + +"M. Thezard, commissary of police of the first district; and my +instructions are to take you to M. Dudouis, at the prefecture." + +"But--" + +"Not a word, doctor, I entreat you, not a movement--There is some +regrettable mistake; and that is why we must act in silence and not +attract anybody's attention. You will be back, I have no doubt, +before the end of the performance." + +The doctor rose and went with the commissary. At the end of the +performance, he had not returned. Mme. Delattre, greatly alarmed, +drove to the office of the commissary of police. There she found the +real M. Thezard and discovered, to her great terror, that the +individual who had carried off her husband was an impostor. + +Inquiries made so far have revealed the fact that the doctor stepped +into a motor car and that the car drove off in the direction of the +Concorde. + +Readers will find further details of this incredible adventure in +our second edition. + + * * * * * + +Incredible though it might be, the adventure was perfectly true. +Besides, the issue was not long delayed and the Grand Journal, while +confirming the story in its midday edition, described in a few lines +the dramatic ending with which it concluded: + +THE STORY ENDS + +AND + +GUESS-WORK BEGINS + +Dr. Delattre was brought back to 78, Rue Duret, at nine o'clock this +morning, in a motor car which drove away immediately at full speed. + +No. 78, Rue Duret, is the address of Dr. Delattre's clinical +surgery, at which he arrives every morning at the same hour. When we +sent in our card, the doctor, though closeted with the chief of the +detective service, was good enough to consent to receive us. + +"All that I can tell you," he said, in reply to our questions, "is +that I was treated with the greatest consideration. My three +companions were the most charming people I have ever met, +exquisitely well-mannered and bright and witty talkers: a quality +not to be despised, in view of the length of the journey." + +"How long did it take?" + +"About four hours and as long returning." + +"And what was the object of the journey?" + +"I was taken to see a patient whose condition rendered an immediate +operation necessary." + +"And was the operation successful?" + +"Yes, but the consequences may be dangerous. I would answer for the +patient here. Down there--under his present conditions--" + +"Bad conditions?" + +"Execrable!--A room in an inn--and the practically absolute +impossibility of being attended to." + +"Then what can save him?" + +"A miracle--and his constitution, which is an exceptionally strong +one." + +"And can you say nothing more about this strange patient?" + +"No. In the first place, I have taken an oath; and, secondly, I have +received a present of ten thousand francs for my free surgery. If I +do not keep silence, this sum will be taken from me." + +"You are joking! Do you believe that?" + +"Indeed I do. The men all struck me as being very much in earnest." + +This is the statement made to us by Dr. Delattre. And we know, on +the other hand, that the head of the detective service, in spite of +all his insisting, has not yet succeeded in extracting any more +precise particulars from him as to the operation which he performed, +the patient whom he attended or the district traversed by the car. +It is difficult, therefore, to arrive at the truth. + + * * * * * + +This truth, which the writer of the interview confessed himself +unable to discover, was guessed by the more or less clear-sighted +minds that perceived a connection with the facts which had occurred +the day before at the Chateau d'Ambrumesy, and which were reported, +down to the smallest detail, in all the newspapers of that day. +There was evidently a coincidence to be reckoned with in the +disappearance of a wounded burglar and the kidnapping of a famous +surgeon. + +The judicial inquiry, moreover, proved the correctness of the +hypothesis. By following the track of the sham flyman, who had fled +on a bicycle, they were able to show that he had reached the forest +of Arques, at some ten miles' distance, and that from there, after +throwing his bicycle into a ditch, he had gone to the village of +Saint-Nicolas, whence he had dispatched the following telegram: + + + A. L. N., Post-office 45, Paris. + + Situation desperate. Operation urgently necessary. + Send celebrity by national road fourteen. + + +The evidence was undeniable. Once apprised the accomplices in Paris +hastened to make their arrangements. At ten o'clock in the evening +they sent their celebrity by National Road No. 14, which skirts the +forest of Arques and ends at Dieppe. During this time, under cover +of the fire which they themselves had caused, the gang of burglars +carried off their leader and moved him to an inn, where the +operation took place on the arrival of the surgeon, at two o'clock +in the morning. + +About that there was no doubt. At Pontoise, at Gournay, at Forges, +Chief-inspector Ganimard, who was sent specially from Paris, with +Inspector Folenfant, as his assistant, ascertained that a motor car +had passed in the course of the previous night. The same on the road +from Dieppe to Ambrumesy. And, though the traces of the car were +lost at about a mile and a half from the chateau, at least a number +of footmarks were seen between the little door in the park wall and +the abbey ruins. Besides, Ganimard remarked that the lock of the +little door had been forced. + +So all was explained. It remained to decide which inn the doctor had +spoken of: an easy piece of work for a Ganimard, a professional +ferret, a patient old stager of the police. The number of inns is +limited and this one, given the condition of the wounded man, could +only be one quite close to Ambrumesy. Ganimard and Sergeant +Quevillon set to work. Within a circle of five hundred yards, of a +thousand yards, of fifteen hundred yards, they visited and ransacked +everything that could pass for an inn. But, against all expectation, +the dying man persisted in remaining invisible. + +Ganimard became more resolved than ever. He came back to sleep at +the chateau, on the Saturday night, with the intention of making his +personal inquiry on the Sunday. On Sunday morning, he learned that, +during the night, a posse of gendarmes had seen a figure gliding +along the sunk road, outside the wall. Was it an accomplice who had +come back to investigate? Were they to suppose that the leader of +the gang had not left the cloisters or the neighborhood of the +cloisters? + +That night, Ganimard openly sent the squad of gendarmes to the farm +and posted himself and Folenfant outside the walls, near the little +door. + +A little before midnight, a person passed out of the wood, slipped +between them, went through the door and entered the park. For three +hours, they saw him wander from side to side across the ruins, +stooping, climbing up the old pillars, sometimes remaining for long +minutes without moving. Then he went back to the door and again +passed between the two inspectors. + +Ganimard caught him by the collar, while Folenfant seized him round +the body. He made no resistance of any kind and, with the greatest +docility, allowed them to bind his wrists and take him to the house. +But, when they attempted to question him, he replied simply that he +owed them no account of his doings and that he would wait for the +arrival of the examining magistrate. Thereupon, they fastened him +firmly to the foot of a bed, in one of the two adjoining rooms which +they occupied. + +At nine o'clock on Monday morning, as soon as M. Filleul had +arrived, Ganimard announced the capture which he had made. The +prisoner was brought downstairs. It was Isidore Beautrelet. + +"M. Isidore Beautrelet!" exclaimed M. Filleul with an air of +rapture, holding out both his hands to the newcomer. "What a +delightful surprise! Our excellent amateur detective here! And at +our disposal too! Why, it's a windfall!--M. Chief-inspector, allow +me to introduce to you M. Isidore Beautrelet, a sixth-form pupil at +the Lycee Janson-de-Sailly." + +Ganimard seemed a little nonplussed. Isidore made him a very low +bow, as though he were greeting a colleague whom he knew how to +esteem at his true value, and, turning to M. Filleul: + +"It appears, Monsieur le Juge d'Instruction, that you have received +a satisfactory account of me?" + +"Perfectly satisfactory! To begin with, you were really at Veules- +les-Roses at the time when Mlle. de Saint-Veran thought she saw you +in the sunk road. I dare say we shall discover the identity of your +double. In the second place, you are in very deed Isidore +Beautrelet, a sixth-form pupil and, what is more, an excellent +pupil, industrious at your work and of exemplary behavior. As your +father lives in the country, you go out once a month to his +correspondent, M. Bernod, who is lavish in his praises of you." + +"So that--" + +"So that you are free, M. Isidore Beautrelet." + +"Absolutely free?" + +"Absolutely. Oh, I must make just one little condition, all the +same. You can understand that I can't release a gentleman who +administers sleeping-draughts, who escapes by the window and who is +afterward caught in the act of trespassing upon private property. I +can't release him without a compensation of some kind." + +"I await your pleasure." + +"Well, we will resume our interrupted conversation and you shall +tell me how far you have advanced with your investigations. In two +days of liberty, you must have carried them pretty far?" And, as +Ganimard was preparing to go, with an affectation of contempt for +that sort of practice, the magistrate cried, "Not at all, M. +Inspector, your place is here--I assure you that M. Isidore +Beautrelet is worth listening to. M. Isidore Beautrelet, according +to my information, has made a great reputation at the Lycee Janson- +de-Sailly as an observer whom nothing escapes; and his +schoolfellows, I hear, look upon him as your competitor and a rival +of Holmlock Shears!" + +"Indeed!" said Ganimard, ironically. + +"Just so. One of them wrote to me, 'If Beautrelet declares that he +knows, you must believe him; and, whatever he says, you may be sure +that it is the exact expression of the truth.' M. Isidore +Beautrelet, now or never is the time to vindicate the confidence of +your friends. I beseech you, give us the exact expression of the +truth." + +Isidore listened with a smile and replied: + +"Monsieur le Juge d'Instruction, you are very cruel. You make fun of +poor schoolboys who amuse themselves as best they can. You are quite +right, however, and I will give you no further reason to laugh at +me." + +"The fact is that you know nothing, M. Isidore Beautrelet." + +"Yes, I confess in all humility that I know nothing. For I do not +call it 'knowing anything' that I happen to have hit upon two or +three more precise points which, I am sure, cannot have escaped +you." + +"For instance?" + +"For instance, the object of the theft." + +"Ah, of course, you know the object of the theft?" + +"As you do, I have no doubt. In fact, it was the first thing I +studied, because the task struck me as easier." + +"Easier, really?" + +"Why, of course. At the most, it's a question of reasoning." + +"Nothing more than that?" + +"Nothing more." + +"And what is your reasoning?" + +"It is just this, stripped of all extraneous comment: on the one +hand, THERE HAS BEEN A THEFT, because the two young ladies are +agreed and because they really saw two men running away and carrying +things with them." + +"There has been a theft." + +"On the other hand, NOTHING HAS DISAPPEARED, because M. de Gesvres +says so and he is in a better position than anybody to know." + +"Nothing has disappeared." + +"From those two premises I arrive at this inevitable result: granted +that there has been a theft and that nothing has disappeared, it is +because the object carried off has been replaced by an exactly +similar object. Let me hasten to add that possibly my argument may +not be confirmed by the facts. But I maintain that it is the first +argument that ought to occur to us and that we are not entitled to +waive it until we have made a serious examination." + +"That's true--that's true," muttered the magistrate, who was +obviously interested. + +"Now," continued Isidore, "what was there in this room that could +arouse the covetousness of the burglars? Two things. The tapestry +first. It can't have been that. Old tapestry cannot be imitated: the +fraud would have been palpable at once. There remain the four Rubens +pictures." + +"What's that you say?" + +"I say that the four Rubenses on that wall are false." + +"Impossible!" + +"They are false a priori, inevitably and without a doubt." + +"I tell you, it's impossible." + +"It is very nearly a year ago, Monsieur le Juge d'Instruction, since +a young man, who gave his name as Charpenais, came to the Chateau +d'Ambrumesy and asked permission to copy the Rubens pictures. M. de +Gesvres gave him permission. Every day for five months Charpenais +worked in this room from morning till dusk. The copies which he +made, canvases and frames, have taken the place of the four original +pictures bequeathed to M. de Gesvres by his uncle, the Marques de +Bobadilla." + +"Prove it!" + +"I have no proof to give. A picture is false because it is false; +and I consider that it is not even necessary to examine these four." + +M. Filleul and Ganimard exchanged glances of unconcealed +astonishment. The inspector no longer thought of withdrawing. At +last, the magistrate muttered: + +"We must have M. de Gesvres's opinion." + +And Ganimard agreed: + +"Yes, we must have his opinion." + +And they sent to beg the count to come to the drawing room. + +The young sixth-form pupil had won a real victory. To compel two +experts, two professionals like M. Filleul and Ganimard to take +account of his surmises implied a testimony of respect of which any +other would have been proud. But Beautrelet seemed not to feel those +little satisfactions of self-conceit and, still smiling without the +least trace of irony, he placidly waited. + +M. de Gesvres entered the room. + +"Monsieur le Comte," said the magistrate, "the result of our inquiry +has brought us face to face with an utterly unexpected contingency, +which we submit to you with all reserve. It is possible--I say that +it is possible--that the burglars, when breaking into the house, had +it as their object to steal your four pictures by Rubens--or, at +least, to replace them by four copies--copies which are said to have +been made last year by a painter called Charpenais. Would you be so +good as to examine the pictures and to tell us if you recognize them +as genuine?" + +The count appeared to suppress a movement of annoyance, looked at +Isidore Beautrelet and at M. Filleul and replied, without even +troubling to go near the pictures: + +"I hoped, Monsieur le Juge d'Instruction, that the truth might have +remained unknown. As this is not so, I have no hesitation in +declaring that the four pictures are false." + +"You knew it, then?" + +"From the beginning." + +"Why didn't you say so?" + +"The owner of a work is never in a hurry to declare that that work +is not--or, rather, is no longer genuine." + +"Still, it was the only means of recovering them." + +"I consider that there was another and a better." + +"Which was that?" + +"Not to make the secret known, not to frighten my burglars and to +offer to buy back the pictures, which they must find more or less +difficult to dispose of." + +"How would you communicate with them?" + +As the count did not reply, Isidore answered for him: + +"By means of an advertisement in the papers. The paragraph inserted +in the agony column of the Journal, the Echo de Paris and the Matin +runs, 'Am prepared to buy back the pictures.'" + +The count agreed with a nod. Once again, the young man was teaching +his elders. M. Filleul showed himself a good sportsman. + +"There's no doubt about it, my dear sir," he exclaimed. "I'm +beginning to think your school-fellows were not quite wrong. By +Jove, what an eye! What intuition! If this goes on, there will be +nothing left for M. Ganimard and me to do." + +"Oh, none of this part was so very complicated!" + +"You mean to say that the rest was more so I remember, in fact, +that, when we first met you seemed to know all about it. Let me see, +a far as I recollect, you said that you knew the name of the +murderer." + +"So I do." + +"Well, then, who killed Jean Daval? Is the man alive? Where is he +hiding?" + +"There is a misunderstanding between us, Monsieur le Juge +d'Instruction, or, rather, you have misunderstood the facts from the +beginning The murderer and the runaway are two distinct persons." + +"What's that?" exclaimed M. Filleul. "The man whom M. de Gesvres saw +in the boudoir and struggled with, the man whom the young ladies saw +in the drawing-room and whom Mlle. de Saint-Veran shot at, the man +who fell in the park and whom we are looking for: do you suggest +that he is not the man who killed Jean Daval?" + +"I do." + +"Have you discovered the traces of a third accomplice who +disappeared before the arrival of the young ladies?" + +"I have not." + +"In that case, I don't understand.--Well, who is the murderer of +Jean Daval?" + +"Jean Daval was killed by--" + +Beautrelet interrupted himself, thought for a moment and continued: + +"But I must first show you the road which I followed to arrive at +the certainty and the very reasons of the murder--without which my +accusation would seem monstrous to you.--And it is not--no, it is +not monstrous at all.--There is one detail which has passed +unobserved and which, nevertheless, is of the greatest importance; +and that is that Jean Daval, at the moment when he was stabbed, had +all his clothes on, including his walking boots, was dressed, in +short, as a man is dressed in the middle of the day, with a +waistcoat, collar, tie and braces. Now the crime was committed at +four o'clock in the morning." + +"I reflected on that strange fact," said the magistrate, "and M. de +Gesvres replied that Jean Daval spent a part of his nights in +working." + +"The servants say, on the contrary, that he went to bed regularly at +a very early hour. But, admitting that he was up, why did he +disarrange his bedclothes, to make believe that he had gone to bed? +And, if he was in bed, why, when he heard a noise, did he take the +trouble to dress himself from head to foot, instead of slipping on +anything that came to hand? I went to his room on the first day, +while you were at lunch: his slippers were at the foot of the bed. +What prevented him from putting them on rather than his heavy nailed +boots?" + +"So far, I do not see--" + +"So far, in fact, you cannot see anything, except anomalies. They +appeared much more suspicious to me, however, when I learned that +Charpenais the painter, the man who copied the Rubens pictures, had +been introduced and recommended to the Comte de Gesvres by Jean +Daval himself." + +"Well?" + +"Well, from that to the conclusion that Jean Daval and Charpenais +were accomplices required but a step. I took that step at the time +of our conversation." + +"A little quickly, I think." + +"As a matter of fact, a material proof was wanted. Now I had +discovered in Daval's room, on one of the sheets of the blotting-pad +on which he used to write, this address: 'Monsieur A.L.N., Post- +office 45, Paris.' You will find it there still, traced the reverse +way on the blotting-paper. The next day, it was discovered that the +telegram sent by the sham flyman from Saint-Nicolas bore the same +address: 'A.L.N., Post-office 45.' The material proof existed: Jean +Daval was in correspondence with the gang which arranged the robbery +of the pictures." + +M. Filleul raised no objection. + +"Agreed. The complicity is established. And what conclusion do you +draw?" + +"This, first of all, that it was not the runaway who killed Jean +Daval, because Jean Daval was his accomplice." + +"And after that?" + +"Monsieur le Juge d'Instruction, I will ask you to remember the +first sentence uttered by Monsieur le Comte when he recovered from +fainting. The sentence forms part of Mlle. de Gesvres' evidence and +is in the official report: 'I am not wounded.--Daval?--Is he alive?-- +The knife?' And I will ask you to compare it with that part of his +story, also in the report, in which Monsieur le Comte describes the +assault: 'The man leaped at me and felled me with a blow on the +temple!' How could M. de Gesvres, who had fainted, know, on waking, +that Daval had been stabbed with a knife?" + +Isidore Beautrelet did not wait for an answer to his question. It +seemed as though he were in a hurry to give the answer himself and +to avoid all comment. He continued straightway: + +"Therefore it was Jean Daval who brought the three burglars to the +drawing room. While he was there with the one whom they call their +chief, a noise was heard in the boudoir. Daval opened the door. +Recognizing M. de Gesvres, he rushed at him, armed with the knife. +M. de Gesvres succeeded in snatching the knife from him, struck him +with it and himself fell, on receiving a blow from the man whom the +two girls were to see a few minutes after." + +Once again, M. Filleul and the inspector exchanged glances. Ganimard +tossed his head in a disconcerted way. The magistrate said: + +"Monsieur le Comte, am I to believe that this version is correct?" + +M. de Gesvres made no answer. + +"Come, Monsieur le Comte, your silence would us to suppose--I beg +you to speak." + +Replying in a very clear voice, M. de Gesvres said: + +"The version is correct in every particular." + +The magistrate gave a start. + +"Then I cannot understand why you misled the police. Why conceal an +act which you were lawfully entitled to commit in defense of your +life?" + +"For twenty years," said M. de Gesvres, "Daval worked by my side. I +trusted him. If he betrayed me, as the result of some temptation or +other, I was, at least, unwilling, for the sake of the past, that +his treachery should become known." + +"You were unwilling, I agree, but you had no right to be." + +"I am not of your opinion, Monsieur le Juge d'Instruction. As long +as no innocent person was accused of the crime, I was absolutely +entitled to refrain from accusing the man who was at the same time +the culprit and the victim. He is dead. I consider death a +sufficient punishment." + +"But now, Monsieur le Comte, now that the truth is known, you can +speak." + +"Yes. Here are two rough drafts of letters written by him to his +accomplices. I took them from his pocket-book, a few minutes after +his death." + +"And the motive of his theft?" + +"Go to 18, Rue de la Barre, at Dieppe, which is the address of a +certain Mme. Verdier. It was for this woman, whom he got to know two +years ago, and to supply her constant need of money that Daval +turned thief." + +So everything was cleared up. The tragedy rose out of the darkness +and gradually appeared in its true light. + +"Let us go on," said M. Filluel after the count had withdrawn. + +"Upon my word," said Beautrelet, gaily, "I have said almost all that +I had to say." + +"But the runaway, the wounded man?" + +"As to that, Monsieur le Juge d'Instruction, you know as much as I +do. You have followed his tracks in the grass by the cloisters--you +have--" + +"Yes, yes, I know. But, since then, his friends have removed him and +what I want is a clue or two as regards that inn--" + +Isidore Beautrelet burst out laughing: + +"The inn! The inn does not exist! It's an invention, a trick to put +the police on the wrong scent, an ingenious trick, too, for it seems +to have succeeded." + +"But Dr. Delattre declares--" + +"Ah, that's just it!" cried Beautrelet, in a tone of conviction. "It +is just because Dr. Delattre declares that we mustn't believe him. +Why, Dr. Delattre refused to give any but the vaguest details +concerning his adventure! He refused to say anything that might +compromise his patient's safety!--And suddenly he calls attention to +an inn!--You may be sure that he talked about that inn because he +was told to. You may be sure that the whole story which he dished up +to us was dictated to him under the threat of terrible reprisals. +The doctor has a wife. The doctor has a daughter. He is too fond of +them to disobey people of whose formidable power he has seen proofs. +And that is why he has assisted your efforts by supplying the most +precise clues." + +"So precise that the inn is nowhere to be found." + +"So precise that you have never ceased looking for it, in the face +of all probability, and that your eyes have been turned away from +the only spot where the man can be, the mysterious spot which he has +not left, which he has been unable to leave ever since the moment +when, wounded by Mlle. de Saint-Veran, he succeeded in dragging +himself to it, like a beast to its lair." + +"But where, confound it all?--In what corner of Hades--?" + +"In the ruins of the old abbey." + +"But there are no ruins left!--A few bits of wall!--A few broken +columns!" + +"That's where he's gone to earth. Monsieur le Juge d'Instruction!" +shouted Beautrelet. "That's where you will have to look for him! +It's there and nowhere else that you will find Arsene Lupin!" + +"Arsene Lupin!" yelled M. Filleul, springing to his feet. + +There was a rather solemn pause, amid which the syllables of the +famous name seemed to prolong their sound. Was it possible that the +vanquished and yet invisible adversary, whom they had been hunting +in vain for several days, could really be Arsene Lupin? Arsene +Lupin, caught in a trap, arrested, meant immediate promotion, +fortune, glory to any examining magistrate! + +Ganimard had not moved a limb. Isidore said to him: + +"You agree with me, do you not, M. Inspector?" + +"Of course I do!" + +"You have not doubted either, for a moment have you, that he managed +this business?" + +"Not for a second! The thing bears his signature. A move of Arsene +Lupin's is as different from a move made by another man as one face +is from another. You have only to open your eyes." + +"Do you think so? Do you think so?" said M. Filleul. + +"Think so!" cried the young man. "Look, here's one little fact: what +are the initials under which those men correspond among themselves? +'A. L. N.,' that is to say, the first letter of the name Arsene and +the first and last letters of the name Lupin." + +"Ah," said Ganimard, "nothing escapes you! Upon my word, you're a +fine fellow and old Ganimard lays down his arms before you!" + +Beautrelet flushed with pleasure and pressed the hand which the +chief-inspector held out to him. The three men had drawn near the +balcony and their eyes now took in the extent of the ruins. M. +Filleul muttered: + +"So he ought to be there." + +"HE IS THERE," said Beautrelet, in a hollow voice. "He has been +there ever since the moment when he fell. Logically and practically, +he could not escape without being seen by Mlle. de Saint-Veran and +the two servants." + +"What proof have you?" + +"His accomplices have furnished the proof. On the very morning, one +of them disguised himself as a flyman and drove you here--" + +"To recover the cap, which would serve to identify him." + +"Very well, but also and more particularly to examine the spot, find +out and see for himself what had become of the 'governor.'" + +"And did he find out?" + +"I presume so, as he knew the hiding-place. And I presume that he +became aware of the desperate condition of his chief, because, under +the impulse of his alarm, he committed the imprudence to write that +threat: 'Woe betide the young lady, if she has killed the +governor!'" + +"But his friends were able to take him away afterward?" + +"When? Your men have never left the ruins. And where could they have +moved him to? At most, a few hundred yards away, for one doesn't let +a dying man travel--and then you would have found him. No, I tell +you, he is there. His friends would never have removed him from the +safest of hiding-places. It was there that they brought the doctor, +while the gendarmes were running to the fire like children." + +"But how is he living? How will he keep alive? To keep alive you +need food and drink." + +"I can't say. I don't know. But he is there, I will swear it. He is +there, because he can't help being there. I am as sure of it as if I +saw as if I touched him. He is there." + +With his finger outstretched toward the ruins, he traced in the air +a little circle which became smaller and smaller until it was only a +point. And that point his two companions sought desperately, both +leaning into space, both moved by the same faith in Beautrelet and +quivering with the ardent conviction which he had forced upon them. +Yes, Arsene Lupin was there. In theory and in fact, he was there: +neither of them was now able to doubt it. + +And there was something impressive and tragic in knowing that the +famous adventurer was lying in some dark shelter, below the ground, +helpless, feverish and exhausted. + +"And if he dies?" asked M. Filleul, in a low voice. + +"If he dies," said Beautrelet, "and if his accomplices are sure of +it, then see to the safety of Mlle. de Saint-Veran. Monsieur le Juge +d'Instruction, for the vengeance will be terrible." + + * * * * * + +A few minutes later and in spite of the entreaties of M. Filleul, +who would gladly have made further use of this fascinating +auxiliary, Isidore Beautrelet, whose holidays ended that day, went +off by the Dieppe Road. He stepped from the train in Paris at five +o'clock and, at eight o'clock, returned to the Lycee Janson together +with his schoolfellows. + +Ganimard, after a minute, but utterly useless exploration of the +ruins of Ambrumesy, returned to Paris by the fast night-train. On +reaching his apartment in the Rue Pergolese, he found an express +letter awaiting him: + + * * * * * + +Monsieur l'Inspecteur Principal: + +Finding that I had a little time to spare at the end of the day, I +have succeeded in collecting a few additional particulars which are +sure to interest you. + +Arsene Lupin has been living in Paris for twelve months under the +name of Etienne de Vaudreix. It is a name which you will often come +across in the society notes or the sporting columns of the +newspapers. He is a great traveler and is absent for long periods, +during which, by his own account, he goes hunting tigers in Bengal +or blue foxes in Siberia. He is supposed to be in business of some +kind, although nobody is able to say for certain what his business +is. + +His present address is 38, Rue Marbeuf; and I will call your +attention to the fact that the Rue Marbeuf is close to Post-office +Number 45. Since Thursday the twenty-third of April, the day before +the burglary at Ambrumesy, there has been no news at all of Etienne +de Vaudreix. + +With very many thanks for the kindness which you have shown me, +believe me to be, + Monsieur l'Inspecteur Principal, + Yours sincerely, + ISIDORE BEAUTRELET. + +P.S.--Please on no account think that it cost me any great trouble +to obtain this information. On the very morning of the crime, while +M. Filleul was pursuing his examination before a few privileged +persons, I had the fortunate inspiration to glance at the runaway's +cap, before the sham flyman came to change it. The hatter's name was +enough, as you may imagine, to enable me to find the clue that led +to the identification of the purchaser and his address. + + * * * * * + +The next morning, Ganimard called at 36, Rue Marbeuf. After +questioning the concierge, he made him open the door of the ground- +floor flat on the right, a very comfortable apartment, elegantly +furnished, in which, however, he discovered nothing beyond some +cinders in the fireplace. Two friends had come, four days earlier, +to burn all compromising papers. + +But, just as he was leaving, Ganimard passed the postman, who was +bringing a letter for M. de Vaudreix. That afternoon, the public +prosecutor was informed of the case and ordered the letter to be +given up. It bore an American postmark and contained the following +lines, in English: + + * * * * * + +DEAR SIR: + +I write to confirm the answer which I gave your representative. As +soon as you have M. de Gesvres's four pictures in your possession, +you can forward them as arranged. + +You may add the rest, if you are able to succeed, which I doubt. + +An unexpected business requires my presence in Europe and I shall +reach Paris at the same time as this letter. You will find me at the +Grand Hotel. + +Yours faithfully, + +EPHRAIM B. HARLINGTON. + + * * * * * + +That same day, Ganimard applied for a warrant and took Mr. E. B. +Harlington, an American citizen, to the police-station, on a charge +of receiving and conspiracy. + + * * * * * + +Thus, within the space of twenty-four hours, all the threads of the +plot had been unraveled, thanks to the really unforeseen clues +supplied by a schoolboy of seventeen. In twenty-four hours, what had +seemed inexplicable became simple and clear. In twenty-four hours, +the scheme devised by the accomplices to save their leader was +baffled; the capture of Arsene Lupin, wounded and dying, was no +longer in doubt, his gang was disorganized, the address of his +establishment in Paris and the name which he assumed were known and, +for the first time, one of his cleverest and most carefully +elaborated feats was seen through before he had been able to ensure +its complete execution. + +An immense clamor of astonishment, admiration and curiosity arose +among the public. Already, the Rouen journalist, in a very able +article, had described the first examination of the sixth-form +pupil, laying stress upon his personal charm, his simplicity of +manner and his quiet assurance. The indiscretions of Ganimard and M. +Filleul, indiscretions to which they yielded in spite of themselves, +under an impulse that proved stronger than their professional pride, +suddenly enlightened the public as to the part played by Isidore +Beautrelet in recent events. He alone had done everything. To him +alone the merit of the victory was due. + +The excitement was intense. Isidore Beautrelet awoke to find himself +a hero; and the crowd, suddenly infatuated, insisted upon the +fullest information regarding its new favorite. The reporters were +there to supply it. They rushed to the assault of the Lycee Janson- +de-Sailly, waited for the day-boarders to come out after schoolhours +and picked up all that related, however remotely, to Beautrelet. It +was in this way that they learned the reputation which he enjoyed +among his schoolfellows, who called him the rival of Holmlock +Shears. Thanks to his powers of logical reasoning, with no further +data than those which he was able to gather from the papers, he had, +time after time, proclaimed the solution of very complicated cases +long before they were cleared up by the police. + +It had become a game at the Lycee Janson to put difficult questions +and intricate problems to Beautrelet; and it was astonishing to see +with what unhesitating and analytical power and by means of what +ingenious deductions he made his way through the thickest darkness. +Ten days before the arrest of Jorisse, the grocer, he showed what +could be done with the famous umbrella. In the same way, he declared +from the beginning, in the matter of the Saint-Cloud mystery, that +the concierge was the only possible murderer. + +But most curious of all was the pamphlet which was found circulating +among the boys at the school, a typewritten pamphlet signed by +Beautrelet and manifolded to the number of ten copies. It was +entitled, ARSENE LUPIN AND HIS METHOD, SHOWING IN HOW FAR THE LATTER +IS BASED UPON TRADITION AND IN HOW FAR ORIGINAL. FOLLOWED BY A +COMPARISON BETWEEN ENGLISH HUMOR AND FRENCH IRONY. + +It contained a profound study of each of the exploits of Arsene +Lupin, throwing the illustrious burglar's operations into +extraordinary relief, showing the very mechanism of his way of +setting to work, his special tactics, his letters to the press, his +threats, the announcement of his thefts, in short, the whole bag of +tricks which he employed to bamboozle his selected victim and throw +him into such a state of mind that the victim almost offered himself +to the plot contrived against him and that everything took place, as +it were, with his own consent. + +And the work was so just, regarded as a piece of criticism, so +penetrating, so lively and marked by a wit so clever and, at the +same time, so cruel that the lawyers at once passed over to his +side, that the sympathy of the crowd was summarily transferred from +Lupin to Beautrelet and that, in the struggle engaged upon between +the two, the schoolboy's victory was loudly proclaimed in advance. + +Be this as it may, both M. Filleul and the Paris public prosecutor +seemed jealously to reserve the possibility of this victory for him. +On the one hand, they failed to establish Mr. Harlington's identity +or to furnish a definite proof of his connection with Lupin's gang. +Confederate or not, he preserved an obstinate silence. Nay, more, +after examining his handwriting, it was impossible to declare that +he was the author of the intercepted letter. A Mr. Harlington, +carrying a small portmanteau and a pocket-book stuffed with bank- +notes, had taken up his abode at the Grand Hotel: that was all that +could be stated with certainty. + +On the other hand, at Dieppe, M. Filleul lay down on the positions +which Beautrelet had won for him. He did not move a step forward. +Around the individual whom Mlle. de Saint-Veran had taken for +Beautrelet, on the eve of the crime, the same mystery reigned as +heretofore. The same obscurity also surrounded everything connected +with the removal of the four Rubens pictures. What had become of +them? And what road had been taken by the motor car in which they +were carried off during the night? + +Evidence of its passing was obtained at Luneray at Yerville, at +Yvetot and at Caudebec-en-Caux, where it must have crossed the Seine +at daybreak in the steam-ferry. But, when the matter came to be +inquired into more thoroughly, it was stated that the motor car was +an uncovered one and that it would have been impossible to pack four +large pictures into it unobserved by the ferryman. + +It was very probably the same car; but then the question cropped up +again: what had become of the four Rubenses? + +These were so many problems which M. Filleul unanswered. Every day, +his subordinates searched the quadrilateral of the ruins. Almost +every day, he came to direct the explorations. But between that and +discovering the refuge in which Lupin lay dying--if it were true +that Beautrelet's opinion was correct--there was a gulf fixed which +the worthy magistrate did not seem likely to cross. + +And so it was natural that they should turn once more to Isidore +Beautrelet, as he alone had succeeded in dispelling shadows which, +in his absence, gathered thicker and more impenetrable than ever. +Why did he not go on with the case? Seeing how far he had carried +it, he required but an effort to succeed. + +The question was put to him by a member of the staff of the Grand +Journal, who had obtained admission to the Lycee Janson by assuming +the name of Bernod, the friend of Beautrelet's father. And Isidore +very sensibly replied: + +"My dear sir, there are other things besides Lupin in this world, +other things besides stories about burglars and detectives. There +is, for instance, the thing which is known as taking one's degree. +Now I am going up for my examination in July. This is May. And I +don't want to be plucked. What would my worthy parent say?" + +"But what would he say if you delivered Arsene Lupin into the hands +of the police?" + +"Tut! There's a time for everything. In the next holidays--" + +"Whitsuntide?" + +"Yes--I shall go down on Saturday the sixth of June by the first +train." + +"And, on the evening of that Saturday, Lupin will be taken." + +"Will you give me until the Sunday?" asked Beautrelet, laughing. + +"Why delay?" replied the journalist, quite seriously. + +This inexplicable confidence, born of yesterday and already so +strong, was felt with regard to the young man by one and all, even +though, in reality, events had justified it only up to a certain +point. No matter, people believed in him! Nothing seemed difficult +to him. They expected from him what they were entitled to expect at +most from some phenomenon of penetration and intuition, of +experience and skill. That day of the sixth of June was made to +sprawl over all the papers. On the sixth of June, Isidore Beautrelet +would take the fast train to Dieppe: and Lupin would be arrested on +the same evening. + +"Unless he escapes between this and then," objected the last +remaining partisans of the adventurer. + +"Impossible! Every outlet is watched." + +"Unless he has succumbed to his wounds, then," said the partisans, +who would have preferred their hero's death to his capture. + +And the retort was immediate: + +"Nonsense! If Lupin were dead, his confederates would know it by +now, and Lupin would be revenged. Beautrelet said so!" + + * * * * * + +And the sixth of June came. Half a dozen journalists were looking +out for Isidore at the Gare Saint-Lazare. Two of them wanted to +accompany him on his journey. He begged them to refrain. + +He started alone, therefore, in a compartment to himself. He was +tired, thanks to a series of nights devoted to study, and soon fell +asleep. He slept heavily. In his dreams, he had an impression that +the train stopped at different stations and that people got in and +out. When he awoke, within sight of Rouen, he was still alone. But, +on the back of the opposite seat, was a large sheet of paper, +fastened with a pin to the gray cloth. It bore these words: + + "Every man should mind his own business. Do you mind yours. + If not, you must take the consequences." + +"Capital!" he exclaimed, rubbing his hands with delight. "Things are +going badly in the adversary's camp. That threat is as stupid and +vulgar as the sham flyman's. What a style! One can see that it +wasn't composed by Lupin." + +The train threaded the tunnel that precedes the old Norman city. On +reaching the station, Isidore took a few turns on the platform to +stretch his legs. He was about to re-enter his compartment, when a +cry escaped him. As he passed the bookstall, he had read, in an +absent-minded way, the following lines on the front page of a +special edition of the Journal de Rouen; and their alarming sense +suddenly burst upon him: + + * * * * * + +STOP-PRESS NEWS + +We hear by telephone from Dieppe that the Chateau d'Ambrumesy was +broken into last night by criminals, who bound and gagged Mlle. de +Gesvres and carried off Mlle. de Saint-Veran. Traces of blood have +been seen at a distance of five hundred yards from the house and a +scarf has been found close by, which is also stained with blood. +There is every reason to fear that the poor young girl has been +murdered. + + * * * * * + +Isidore Beautrelet completed his journey to Dieppe without moving a +limb. Bent in two, with his elbows on his knees and his hands +plastered against his face, he sat thinking. + +At Dieppe, he took a fly. At the door of Ambrumesy, he met the +examining magistrate, who confirmed the horrible news. + +"You know nothing more?" asked Beautrelet. + +"Nothing. I have only just arrived." + +At that moment, the sergeant of gendarmes came up to M. Filleul and +handed him a crumpled, torn and discolored piece of paper, which he +had picked up not far from the place where the scarf was found. M. +Filleul looked at it and gave it to Beautrelet, saying: + +"I don't suppose this will help us much in our investigations." + +Isidore turned the paper over and over. It was covered with figures, +dots and signs and presented the exact appearance reproduced below: + +[Illustration: drawing of an outline of paper with writing and +drawing on it--numbers, dots, some letters, signs and symbols, +something like... + + 2.1.1..2..2.1..1.. + 1...2.2. 2.43.2..2. + .45..2.4...2..2.4..2 + D DF square 19F+44triangle357triangle + 13.53..2 ..25.2 + +] + + + +CHAPTER THREE + +THE CORPSE + + +At six o'clock in the evening, having finished all he had to do, M. +Filluel, accompanied by M. Bredoux, his clerk, stood waiting for the +carriage which was to take him back to Dieppe. He seemed restless, +nervous. Twice over, he asked: + +"You haven't seen anything of young Beautrelet, I suppose?" + +"No, Monsieur le Juge d'Instruction, I can't say I have." + +"Where on earth can he be? I haven't set eyes on him all day!" + +Suddenly, he had an idea, handed his portfolio to Bredoux, ran round +the chateau and made for the ruins. Isidore Beautrelet was lying +near the cloisters, flat on his face, with one arm folded under his +head, on the ground carpeted with pine-needles. He seemed drowsing. + +"Hullo, young man, what are you doing here? Are you asleep?" + +"I'm not asleep. I've been thinking." + +"Ever since this morning?" + +"Ever since this morning." + +"It's not a question of thinking! One must see into things first, +study facts, look for clues, establish connecting links. The time +for thinking comes after, when one pieces all that together and +discovers the truth." + +"Yes, I know.--That's the usual way, the right one, I dare say.-- +Mine is different.--I think first, I try, above all, to get the +general hang of the case, if I may so express myself. Then I imagine +a reasonable and logical hypothesis, which fits in with the general +idea. And then, and not before, I examine the facts to see if they +agree with my hypothesis." + +"That's a funny method and a terribly complicated one!" + +"It's a sure method, M. Filleul, which is more than can be said of +yours." + +"Come, come! Facts are facts." + +"With your ordinary sort of adversary, yes. But, given an enemy +endowed with a certain amount of cunning, the facts are those which +he happens to have selected. Take the famous clues upon which you +base your inquiry: why, he was at liberty to arrange them as he +liked. And you see where that can lead you, into what mistakes and +absurdities, when you are dealing with a man like Arsene Lupin. +Holmlock Shears himself fell into the trap." + +"Arsene Lupin is dead." + +"No matter. His gang remains and the pupils of such a master are +masters themselves." + +M. Filleul took Isidore by the arm and, leading him away: + +"Words, young man, words. Here is something of more importance. +Listen to me. Ganimard is otherwise engaged at this moment and will +not be here for a few days. On the other hand, the Comte de Gesvres +has telegraphed to Holmlock Shears, who has promised his assistance +next week. Now don't you think, young man, that it would be a +feather in our cap if we were able to say to those two celebrities, +on the day of their arrival, 'Awfully sorry, gentlemen, but we +couldn't wait. The business is done'?" + +It was impossible for M. Filleul to confess helplessness with +greater candor. Beautrelet suppressed a smile and, pretending not to +see through the worthy magistrate, replied: + +"I confess. Monsieur le Juge d'Instruction, that, if I was not +present at your inquiry just now, it was because I hoped that you +would consent to tell me the results. May I ask what you have +learned?" + +"Well, last night, at eleven o'clock, the three gendarmes whom +Sergeant Quevillon had left on guard at the chateau received a note +from the sergeant telling them to hasten with all speed to Ouville, +where they are stationed. They at once rode off, and when they +arrived at Ouville--" + +"They discovered that they had been tricked, that the order was a +forgery and that there was nothing for them to do but return to +Ambrumesy." + +"This they did, accompanied by Sergeant Quevillon. But they were +away for an hour and a half and, during this time, the crime was +committed." + +"In what circumstances?" + +"Very simple circumstances, indeed. A ladder was removed from the +farm buildings and placed against the second story of the chateau. A +pane of glass was cut out and a window opened. Two men, carrying a +dark lantern, entered Mlle. de Gesvres's room and gagged her before +she could cry out. Then, after binding her with cords, they softly +opened the door of the room in which Mlle. de Saint-Veran was +sleeping. Mlle. de Gesvres heard a stifled moan, followed by the +sound of a person struggling. A moment later, she saw two men +carrying her cousin, who was also bound and gagged. They passed in +front of her and went out through the window. Then Mlle. de Gesvres, +terrified and exhausted, fainted." + +"But what about the dogs? I thought M. de Gesvres had bought two +almost wild sheep-dogs, which were let loose at night?" + +"They were found dead, poisoned." + +"By whom? Nobody could get near them." + +"It's a mystery. The fact remains that the two men crossed the ruins +without let or hindrance and went out by the little door which we +have heard so much about. They passed through the copsewood, +following the line of the disused quarries. It was not until they +were nearly half a mile from the chateau, at the foot of the tree +known as the Great Oak, that they stopped--and executed their +purpose." + +"If they came with the intention of killing Mlle. de Saint-Veran, +why didn't they murder her in her room?" + +"I don't know. Perhaps the incident that settled their determination +only occurred after they had left the house. Perhaps the girl +succeeded in releasing herself from her bonds. In my opinion, the +scarf which was picked up was used to fasten her wrists. In any +case, the blow was struck at the foot of the Great Oak. I have +collected indisputable proofs--" + +"But the body?" + +"The body has not been found, but there is nothing excessively +surprising in that. As a matter of fact, the trail which I followed +brought me to the church at Varengeville and the old cemetery +perched on the top of the cliff. From there it is a sheer precipice, +a fall of over three hundred feet to the rocks and the sea below. In +a day or two, a stronger tide than usual will cast up the body on +the beach." + +"Obviously. This is all very simple." + +"Yes, it is all very simple and doesn't trouble me in the least. +Lupin is dead, his accomplices heard of it and, to revenge +themselves, have killed Mlle. de Saint-Veran. These are facts which +did not even require checking. But Lupin?" + +"What about him?" + +"What has become of him? In all probability, his confederates +removed his corpse at the same time that they carried away the girl; +but what proof have we? None at all. Any more than of his staying in +the ruins, or of his death, or of his life. And that is the real +mystery, M. Beautrelet. The murder of Mlle. Raymonde solves nothing. +On the contrary, it only complicates matters. What has been +happening during the past two months at the Chateau d'Ambrumesy? If +we don't clear up the riddle, young man, others will give us the go- +by." + +"On what day are those others coming?" + +"Wednesday--Tuesday perhaps--" + +Beautrelet seemed to be making an inward calculation and then +declared: + +"Monsieur le Juge d'Instruction, this is Saturday. I have to be back +at school on Monday evening. Well, if you will have the goodness to +be here at ten o'clock exactly on Monday morning, I will try to give +you the key to the riddle." + +"Really, M. Beautrelet--do you think so? Are you sure?" + +"I hope so, at any rate." + +"And where are you going now?" + +"I am going to see if the facts consent to fit in with the general +theory which I am beginning to perceive." + +"And if they don't fit in?" + +"Well, Monsieur le Juge d'Instruction," said Beautrelet, with a +laugh, "then it will be their fault and I must look for others +which, will prove more tractable. Till Monday, then?" + +"Till Monday." + +A few minutes later, M. Filleul was driving toward Dieppe, while +Isidore mounted a bicycle which he had borrowed from the Comte de +Gesvres and rode off along the road to Yerville and Caudebec-en- +Caux. + +There was one point in particular on which the young man was anxious +to form a clear opinion, because this just appeared to him to be the +enemy's weakest point. Objects of the size of the four Rubens +pictures cannot be juggled away. They were bound to be somewhere. +Granting that it was impossible to find them for the moment, might +one not discover the road by which they had disappeared? + +What Beautrelet surmised was that the four pictures had undoubtedly +been carried off in the motor car, but that, before reaching +Caudebec, they were transferred to another car, which had crossed +the Seine either above Caudebec or below it. Now the first horse- +boat down the stream was at Quillebeuf, a greatly frequented ferry +and, consequently, dangerous. Up stream, there was the ferry-boat at +La Mailleraie, a large, but lonely market-town, lying well off the +main road. + +By midnight, Isidore had covered the thirty-five or forty miles to +La Mailleraie and was knocking at the door of an inn by the +waterside. He slept there and, in the morning, questioned the +ferrymen. + +They consulted the counterfoils in the traffic-book. No motor-car +had crossed on Thursday the 23rd of April. + +"A horse-drawn vehicle, then?" suggested Beautrelet. "A cart? A +van?" + +"No, not either." + +Isidore continued his inquiries all through the morning. He was on +the point of leaving for Quillebeuf, when the waiter of the inn at +which he had spent the night said: + +"I came back from my thirteen days' training on the morning of which +you are speaking and I saw a cart, but it did not go across." + +"Really?" + +"No, they unloaded it onto a flat boat, a barge of sorts, which was +moored to the wharf." + +"And where did the cart come from?" + +"Oh, I knew it at once. It belonged to Master Vatinel, the carter." + +"And where does he live?" + +"At Louvetot." + +Beautrelet consulted his military map. The hamlet of Louvetot lay +where the highroad between Yvetot and Caudebec was crossed by a +little winding road that ran through the woods to La Mailleraie. + +Not until six o'clock in the evening did Isidore succeed in +discovering Master Vatinel, in a pothouse. Master Vatinel was one of +those artful old Normans who are always on their guard, who distrust +strangers, but who are unable to resist the lure of a gold coin or +the influence of a glass or two: + +"Well, yes, sir, the men in the motor car that morning had told me +to meet them at five o'clock at the crossroads. They gave me four +great, big things, as high as that. One of them went with me and we +carted the things to the barge." + +"You speak of them as if you knew them before." + +"I should think I did know them! It was the sixth time they were +employing me." + +Isidore gave a start: + +"The sixth time, you say? And since when?" + +"Why every day before that one, to be sure! But it was other things +then--great blocks of stone--or else smaller, longish ones, wrapped +up in newspapers, which they carried as if they were worth I don't +know what. Oh, I mustn't touch those on any account!--But what's the +matter? You've turned quite white." + +"Nothing--the heat of the room--" + +Beautrelet staggered out into the air. The joy, the surprise of the +discovery made him feel giddy. He went back very quietly to +Varengeville, slept in the village, spent an hour at the mayor's +offices with the school-master and returned to the chateau. There he +found a letter awaiting him "care of M. le Comte de Gesvres." It +consisted of a single line: + +"Second warning. Hold your tongue. If not--" + +"Come," he muttered. "I shall have to make up my mind and take a few +precautions for my personal safety. If not, as they say--" + +It was nine o'clock. He strolled about among the ruins and then lay +down near the cloisters and closed his eyes. + +"Well, young man, are you satisfied with the results of your +campaign?" + +It was M. Filleul. + +"Delighted, Monsieur le Juge d'Instruction." + +"By which you mean to say--?" + +"By which I mean to say that I am prepared to keep my promise--in +spite of this very uninviting letter." + +He showed the letter to M. Filleul. + +"Pooh! Stuff and nonsense!" cried the magistrate. "I hope you won't +let that prevent you--" + +"From telling you what I know? No, Monsieur le Juge d'Instruction. I +have given my word and I shall keep it. In less than ten minutes, +you shall know--a part of the truth." + +"A part?" + +"Yes, in my opinion, Lupin's hiding-place does not constitute the +whole of the problem. Far from it. But we shall see later on." + +"M. Beautrelet, nothing that you do could astonish me now. But how +were you able to discover--?" + +"Oh, in a very natural way! In the letter from old man Harlington to +M. Etienne de Vaudreix, or rather to Lupin--" + +"The intercepted letter?" + +"Yes. There is a phrase which always puzzled me. After saying that +the pictures are to be forwarded as arranged, he goes on to say, +'You may add THE REST, if you are able to succeed, which I doubt.'" + +"Yes, I remember." + +"What was this 'rest'? A work of art, a curiosity? The chateau +contains nothing of any value besides the Rubenses and the +tapestries. Jewelry? There is very little and what there is of it is +not worth much. In that case, what could it be?--On the other hand, +was it conceivable that people so prodigiously clever as Lupin +should not have succeeded in adding 'the rest,' which they +themselves had evidently suggested? A difficult undertaking, very +likely; exceptional, surprising, I dare say; but possible and +therefore certain, since Lupin wished it." + +"And yet he failed: nothing has disappeared." + +"He did not fail: something has disappeared." + +"Yes, the Rubenses--but--" + +"The Rubenses and something besides--something which has been +replaced by a similar thing, as in the case of the Rubenses; +something much more uncommon, much rarer, much more valuable than +the Rubenses." + +"Well, what? You're killing me with this procrastination!" + +While talking, the two men had crossed the ruins, turned toward the +little door and were now walking beside the chapel. Beautrelet +stopped: + +"Do you really want to know, Monsieur le Juge d'Instruction?" + +"Of course, I do." + +Beautrelet was carrying a walking-stick, a strong, knotted stick. +Suddenly, with a back stroke of this stick, he smashed one of the +little statues that adorned the front of the chapel. + +"Why, you're mad!" shouted M. Filleul, beside himself, rushing at +the broken pieces of the statue. "You're mad! That old saint was an +admirable bit of work--" + +"An admirable bit of work!" echoed Isidore, giving a whirl which +brought down the Virgin Mary. + +M. Filleul took hold of him round the body: + +"Young man, I won't allow you to commit--" + +A wise man of the East came toppling to the ground, followed by a +manger containing the Mother and Child. . . . + +"If you stir another limb, I fire!" + +The Comte de Gesvres had appeared upon the scene and was cocking his +revolver. Beautrelet burst out laughing: + +"That's right, Monsieur le Comte, blaze away!--Take a shot at them, +as if you were at a fair!--Wait a bit--this chap carrying his head +in his hands--" + +St. John the Baptist fell, shattered to pieces. + +"Oh!" shouted the count, pointing his revolver. "You young vandal!-- +Those masterpieces!" + +"Sham, Monsieur le Comte!" + +"What? What's that?" roared M. Filleul, wresting the Comte de +Gesvres's weapon from him. + +"Sham!" repeated Beautrelet. "Paper-pulp and plaster!" + +"Oh, nonsense! It can't be true!" + +"Hollow plaster, I tell you! Nothing at all!" + +The count stooped and picked up a sliver of a statuette. + +"Look at it, Monsieur le Comte, and see for yourself: it's plaster! +Rusty, musty, mildewed plaster, made to look like old stone--but +plaster for all that, plaster casts!--That's all that remains of +your perfect masterpiece!--That's what they've done in just a few +days!-That's what the Sieur Charpenais who copied the Rubenses, +prepared a year ago." He seized M. Filleul's arm in his turn. "What +do you think of it, Monsieur le Juge d'Instruction? Isn't it fine? +Isn't it grand? Isn't it gorgeous? The chapel has been removed! A +whole Gothic chapel collected stone by stone! A whole population of +statues captured and replaced by these chaps in stucco! One of the +most magnificent specimens of an incomparable artistic period +confiscated! The chapel, in short, stolen! Isn't it immense? Ah, +Monsieur le Juge d'Instruction, what a genius the man is!" + +"You're allowing yourself to be carried away, M. Beautrelet." + +"One can't be carried away too much, monsieur, when one has to do +with people like that. Everything above the average deserves our +admiration. And this man soars above everything. There is in his +flight a wealth of imagination, a force and power, a skill and +freedom that send a thrill through me!" + +"Pity he's dead," said M. Filleul, with a grin. "He'd have ended by +stealing the towers of Notre-Dame." + +Isidore shrugged his shoulders: + +"Don't laugh, monsieur. He upsets you, dead though he may be." + +"I don't say not, I don't say not, M. Beautrelet, I confess that I +feel a certain excitement now that I am about to set eyes on him-- +unless, indeed, his friends have taken away the body." + +"And always admitting," observed the Comte de Gesvres, "that it was +really he who was wounded by my poor niece." + +"It was he, beyond a doubt, Monsieur le Comte," declared Beautrelet; +"it was he, believe me, who fell in the ruins under the shot fired +by Mlle. de Saint-Veran; it was he whom she saw rise and who fell +again and dragged himself toward the cloisters to rise again for the +last time--this by a miracle which I will explain to you presently-- +to rise again for the last time and reach this stone shelter--which +was to be his tomb." + +And Beautrelet struck the threshold of the chapel with his stick. + +"Eh? What?" cried M. Filleul, taken aback. "His tomb?--Do you think +that that impenetrable hiding-place--" + +"It was here--there," he repeated. + +"But we searched it." + +"Badly." + +"There is no hiding-place here," protested M. de Gesvres. "I know +the chapel." + +"Yes, there is, Monsieur le Comte. Go to the mayor's office at +Varengeville, where they have collected all the papers that used to +be in the old parish of Ambrumesy, and you will learn from those +papers, which belong to the eighteenth century, that there is a +crypt below the chapel. This crypt doubtless dates back to the Roman +chapel, upon the site of which the present one was built." + +"But how can Lupin have known this detail?" asked M. Filleul. + +"In a very simple manner: because of the works which he had to +execute to take away the chapel." + +"Come, come, M. Beautrelet, you're exaggerating. He has not taken +away the whole chapel. Look, not one of the stones of this top +course has been touched." + +"Obviously, he cast and took away only what had a financial value: +the wrought stones, the sculptures, the statuettes, the whole +treasure of little columns and carved arches. He did not trouble +about the groundwork of the building itself. The foundations +remain." + +"Therefore, M. Beautrelet, Lupin was not able to make his way into +the crypt." + +At that moment, M. de Gesvres, who had been to call a servant, +returned with the key of the chapel. He opened the door. The three +men entered. After a short examination Beautrelet said: + +"The flag-stones on the ground have been respected, as one might +expect. But it is easy to perceive that the high altar is nothing +more than a cast. Now, generally, the staircase leading to the crypt +opens in front of the high altar and passes under it." + +"What do you conclude?" + +"I conclude that Lupin discovered the crypt when working at the +altar." + +The count sent for a pickaxe and Beautrelet attacked the altar. The +plaster flew to right and left. He pushed the pieces aside as he +went on. + +"By Jove!" muttered M. Filleul, "I am eager to know--" + +"So am I," said Beautrelet, whose face was pale with anguish. + +He hurried his blows. And, suddenly, his pickaxe, which, until then, +had encountered no resistance, struck against a harder material and +rebounded. There was a sound of something falling in; and all that +remained of the altar went tumbling into the gap after the block of +stone which had been struck by the pickaxe. Beautrelet bent forward. +A puff of cold air rose to his face. He lit a match and moved it +from side to side over the gap: + +"The staircase begins farther forward than I expected, under the +entrance-flags, almost. I can see the last steps, there, right at +the bottom." + +"Is it deep?" + +"Three or four yards. The steps are very high--and there are some +missing." + +"It is hardly likely," said M. Filleul, "that the accomplices can +have had time to remove the body from the cellar, when they were +engaged in carrying off Mlle. de Saint-Veran--during the short +absence of the gendarmes. Besides, why should they?--No, in my +opinion, the body is here." + +A servant brought them a ladder. Beautrelet let it down through the +opening and fixed it, after groping among the fallen fragments. +Holding the two uprights firmly: + +"Will you go down, M. Filleul?" he asked. + +The magistrate, holding a candle in his hand, ventured down the +ladder. The Comte de Gesvres followed him and Beautrelet, in his +turn, placed his foot on the first rung. + +Mechanically, he counted eighteen rungs, while his eyes examined the +crypt, where the glimmer of the candle struggled against the heavy +darkness. But, at the bottom, his nostrils were assailed by one of +those foul and violent smells which linger in the memory for many a +long day. And, suddenly, a trembling hand seized him by the +shoulder. + +"Well, what is it?" + +"B-beautrelet," stammered M. Filleul. "B-beau-trelet--" + +He could not get a word out for terror. + +"Come, Monsieur le Juge d'Instruction, compose yourself!" + +"Beautrelet--he is there--" + +"Eh?" + +"Yes--there was something under the big stone that broke off the +altar--I pushed the stone--and I touched--I shall never--shall never +forget.--" + +"Where is it?" + +"On this side.--Don't you notice the smell?--And then look--see." + +He took the candle and held it towards a motionless form stretched +upon the ground. + +"Oh!" exclaimed Beautrelet, in a horror-stricken tone. + +The three men bent down quickly. The corpse lay half-naked, lean, +frightful. The flesh, which had the greenish hue of soft wax, +appeared in places through the torn clothes. But the most hideous +thing, the thing that had drawn a cry of terror from the young man's +lips, was the head, the head which had just been crushed by the +block of stone, the shapeless head, a repulsive mass in which not +one feature could be distinguished. + +Beautrelet took four strides up the ladder and fled into the +daylight and the open air. + +M. Filleul found him again lying flat on the around, with his hands +glued to his face: + +"I congratulate you, Beautrelet," he said. "In addition to the +discovery of the hiding-place, there are two points on which I have +been able to verify the correctness of your assertions. First of +all, the man on whom Mlle. de Saint-Veran fired was indeed Arsene +Lupin, as you said from the start. Also, he lived in Paris under the +name of Etienne de Vaudreix. His linen is marked with the initials +E. V. That ought to be sufficient proof, I think: don't you?" + +Isidore did not stir. + +"Monsieur le Comte has gone to have a horse put to. They're sending +for Dr. Jouet, who will make the usual examination. In my opinion, +death must have taken place a week ago, at least. The state of +decomposition of the corpse--but you don't seem to be listening--" + +"Yes, yes." + +"What I say is based upon absolute reasons. Thus, for instance--" + +M. Filleul continued his demonstrations, without, however, +obtaining any more manifest marks of attention. But M. de Gesvres's +return interrupted his monologue. The comte brought two letters. One +was to tell him that Holmlock Shears would arrive next morning. + +"Capital!" cried M. Filleul, joyfully. "Inspector Ganimard will be +here too. It will be delightful." + +"The other letter is for you, Monsieur le Juge d'Instruction," said +the comte. + +"Better and better," said M. Filleul, after reading it. "There will +certainly not be much for those two gentlemen to do. M. Beautrelet, +I hear from Dieppe that the body of a young woman was found by some +shrimpers, this morning, on the rocks." + +Beautrelet gave a start: + +"What's that? The body--" + +"Of a young woman.--The body is horribly mutilated, they say, and it +would be impossible to establish the identity, but for a very narrow +little gold curb-bracelet on the right arm which has become +encrusted in the swollen skin. Now Mlle. de Saint-Veran used to wear +a gold curb-bracelet on her right arm. Evidently, therefore, +Monsieur le Comte, this is the body of your poor niece, which the +sea must have washed to that distance. What do you think, +Beautrelet?" + +"Nothing--nothing--or, rather, yes--everything is connected, as you +see--and there is no link missing in my argument. All the facts, one +after the other, however contradictory, however disconcerting they +may appear, end by supporting the supposition which I imagined from +the first." + +"I don't understand." + +"You soon will. Remember, I promised you the whole truth." + +"But it seems to me--" + +"A little patience, Monsieur le Juge d'Instruction. So far, you have +had no cause to complain of me. It is a fine day. Go for a walk, +lunch at the chateau, smoke your pipe. I shall be back by four +o'clock. As for my school, well, I don't care: I shall take the +night train." + +They had reached the out-houses at the back of the chateau. +Beautrelet jumped on his bicycle and rode away. + +At Dieppe, he stopped at the office of the local paper, the Vigie, +and examined the file for the last fortnight. Then he went on to the +market-town of Envermeu, six or seven miles farther. At Envermeu, he +talked to the mayor, the rector and the local policeman. The church- +clock struck three. His inquiry was finished. + +He returned singing for joy. He pressed upon the two pedals turn by +turn, with an equal and powerful rhythm; his chest opened wide to +take in the keen air that blew from the sea. And, from time to time, +he forgot himself to the extent of uttering shouts of triumph to the +sky, when he thought of the aim which he was pursuing and of the +success that was crowning his efforts. + +Ambrumesy appeared in sight. He coasted at full speed down the slope +leading to the chateau. The top rows of venerable trees that line +the road seemed to run to meet him and to vanish behind him +forthwith. And, all at once, he uttered a cry. In a sudden vision, +he had seen a rope stretched from one tree to another, across the +road. + +His machine gave a jolt and stopped short. Beautrelet was flung +three yards forward, with immense violence, and it seemed to him +that only chance, a miraculous chance, caused him to escape a heap +of pebbles on which, logically, he ought to have broken his head. + +He lay for a few seconds stunned. Then, all covered with bruises, +with the skin flayed from his knees, he examined the spot. On the +right lay a small wood, by which his aggressor had no doubt fled. +Beautrelet untied the rope. To the tree on the left around which it +was fastened a small piece of paper was fixed with string. +Beautrelet unfolded it and read: + +"The third and last warning." + +He went on to the chateau, put a few questions to the servants and +joined the examining magistrate in a room on the ground floor, at +the end of the right wing, where M. Filleul used to sit in the +course of his operations. M. Filleul was writing, with his clerk +seated opposite to him. At a sign from him, the clerk left the room; +and the magistrate exclaimed: + +"Why, what have you been doing to yourself, M. Beautrelet? Your +hands are covered with blood." + +"It's nothing, it's nothing," said the young man. "Just a fall +occasioned by this rope, which was stretched in front of my bicycle. +I will only ask you to observe that the rope comes from the chateau. +Not longer than twenty minutes ago, it was being used to dry linen +on, outside the laundry." + +"You don't mean to say so!" + +"Monsieur le Juge d'Instruction, I am being watched here, by some +one in the very heart of the place, who can see me, who can hear me +and who, minute by minute, observes my actions and knows my +intentions." + +"Do you think so?" + +"I am sure of it. It is for you to discover him and you will have no +difficulty in that. As for myself, I want to have finished and to +give you the promised explanations. I have made faster progress than +our adversaries expected and I am convinced that they mean to take +vigorous measures on their side. The circle is closing around me. +The danger is approaching. I feel it." + +"Nonsense, Beautrelet--" + +"You wait and see! For the moment, let us lose no time. And, first, +a question on a point which I want to have done with at once. Have +you spoken to anybody of that document which Sergeant Quevillon +picked up and handed you in my presence?" + +"No, indeed; not to a soul. But do you attach any value--?" + +"The greatest value. It's an idea of mine, an idea, I confess, which +does not rest upon a proof of any kind--for, up to the present, I +have not succeeded in deciphering the document. And therefore I am +mentioning it--so that we need not come back to it." + +Beautrelet pressed his hand on M. Filleul's and whispered: + +"Don't speak--there's some one listening--outside--" + +The gravel creaked. Beautrelet ran to the window and leaned out: + +"There's no one there--but the border has been trodden down--we can +easily identify the footprints--" + +He closed the window and sat down again: + +"You see, Monsieur le Juge d'Instruction, the enemy has even ceased +to take the most ordinary precautions--he has not time left--he too +feels that the hour is urgent. Let us be quick, therefore, and +speak, since they do not wish us to speak." + +He laid the document on the table and held it in position, unfolded: + +"One observation, Monsieur le Juge d'Instruction, to begin with. The +paper consists almost entirely of dots and figures. And in the first +three lines and the fifth--the only ones with which we have to do at +present, for the fourth seems to present an entirely different +character--not one of those figures is higher than the figure 5. +There is, therefore, a great chance that each of these figures +represents one of the five vowels, taken in alphabetical order. Let +us put down the result." + +He wrote on a separate piece of paper: + +E . A . A . . E . . E . A . . A . . + A . . . E . E . . E OI . E . . E . + . OU . . E . O . . . E . . E . O . . E + AI . UI . . E . . EU . E + + +Then he continued: + +"As you see, this does not give us much to go upon. The key is, at +the same time, very easy, because the inventor has contented himself +with replacing the vowels by figures and the consonants by dots, and +very difficult, if not impossible, because he has taken no further +trouble to complicate the problem." + +"It is certainly pretty obscure." + +"Let us try to throw some light upon it. The second line is divided +into two parts; and the second part appears in such a way that it +probably forms one word. If we now seek to replace the intermediary +dots by consonants, we arrive at the conclusion, after searching and +casting about, that the only consonants which are logically able to +support the vowels are also logically able to produce only one word, +the word DEMOISELLES." + +"That would refer to Mlle. de Gesvres and Mlle. de Saint-Veran." + +"Undoubtedly." + +"And do you see nothing more?" + +"Yes. I also note an hiatus in the middle of the last line; and, if +I apply a similar operation to the beginning of the line, I at once +see that the only consonant able to take the place of the dot +between the diphthongs FAI and UI is the letter G and that, when I +have thus formed the first five letters of the word, AIGUI, it is +natural and inevitable that, with the two next dots and the final E, +I should arrive at the word AIGUILLE." + +"Yes, the word AIGUILLE forces itself upon us." + +"Finally, for the last word, I have three vowels and three +consonants. I cast about again, I try all the letters, one after the +other, and, starting with the principle that the two first letters +are necessary consonants, I find that three words apply: F*EUVE, +PREUVE and CREUSE. I eliminate the words F*EUVE and PREUVE, as +possessing no possible relation to a needle, and I keep the word +CREUSE." + +"Making 'hollow needle'! By jove! I admit that your solution is +correct, because it needs must be; but how does it help us?" + +"Not at all," said Beautrelet, in a thoughtful tone. "Not at all, +for the moment.--Later on, we shall see.--I have an idea that a +number of things are included in the puzzling conjunction of those +two words, AIGUILLE CREUSE. What is troubling me at present is +rather the material on which the document is written, the paper +employed.--Do they still manufacture this sort of rather coarse- +grained parchment? And then this ivory color.--And those folds--the +wear of those folds--and, lastly, look, those marks of red sealing- +wax, on the back--" + +At that moment Beautrelet, was interrupted by Bredoux, the +magistrate's clerk, who opened the door and announced the unexpected +arrival of the chief public prosecutor. M. Filleul rose: + +"Anything new? Is Monsieur le Procureur General downstairs?" + +"No, Monsieur le Juge d'Instruction. Monsieur le Procureur General +has not left his carriage. He is only passing through Ambrumesy and +begs you to be good enough to go down to him at the gate. He only +has a word to say to you." + +"That's curious," muttered M. Filleul. "However--we shall see. +Excuse me, Beautrelet, I shan't be long." + +He went away. His footsteps sounded outside. Then the clerk closed +the door, turned the key and put it in his pocket. + +"Hullo!" exclaimed Beautrelet, greatly surprised. "What are you +locking us in for?" + +"We shall be able to talk so much better," retorted Bredoux. + +Beautrelet rushed toward another door, which led to the next room. +He had understood: the accomplice was Bredoux, the clerk of the +examining magistrate himself. Bredoux grinned: + +"Don't hurt your fingers, my young friend. I have the key of that +door, too." + +"There's the window!" cried Beautrelet. + +"Too late," said Bredoux, planting himself in front of the casement, +revolver in hand. + +Every chance of retreat was cut off. There was nothing more for +Isidore to do, nothing except to defend himself against the enemy +who was revealing himself with such brutal daring. He crossed his +arms. + +"Good," mumbled the clerk. "And now let us waste no time." He took +out his watch. "Our worthy M. Filleul will walk down to the gate. At +the gate, he will find nobody, of course: no more public prosecutor +than my eye. Then he will come back. That gives us about four +minutes. It will take me one minute to escape by this window, clear +through the little door by the ruins and jump on the motor cycle +waiting for me. That leaves three minutes, which is just enough." + +Bredoux was a queer sort of misshapen creature, who balanced on a +pair of very long spindle-legs a huge trunk, as round as the body of +a spider and furnished with immense arms. A bony face and a low, +small stubborn forehead pointed to the man's narrow obstinacy. + +Beautrelet felt a weakness in the legs and staggered. He had to sit +down: + +"Speak," he said. "What do you want?" + +"The paper. I've been looking for it for three days." + +"I haven't got it." + +"You're lying. I saw you put it back in your pocket-book when I came +in." + +"Next?" + +"Next, you must undertake to keep quite quiet. You're annoying us. +Leave us alone and mind your own business. Our patience is at an +end." + +He had come nearer, with the revolver still aimed at the young man's +head, and spoke in a hollow voice, with a powerful stress on each +syllable that he uttered. His eyes were hard, his smile cruel. + +Beautrelet gave a shudder. It was the first time that he was +experiencing the sense of danger. And such danger! He felt himself +in the presence of an implacable enemy, endowed with blind and +irresistible strength. + +"And next?" he asked, with less assurance in his voice. + +"Next? Nothing.--You will be free.--We will forget--" + +There was a pause. Then Bredoux resumed: + +"There is only a minute left. You must make up your mind. Come, old +chap, don't be a fool.--We are the stronger, you know, always and +everywhere.--Quick, the paper--" + +Isidore did not flinch. With a livid and terrified face, he remained +master of himself, nevertheless, and his brain remained clear amid +the breakdown of his nerves. The little black hole of the revolver +was pointing at six inches from his eyes. The finger was bent and +obviously pressing on the trigger. It only wanted a moment-- + +"The paper," repeated Bredoux. "If not--" + +"Here it is," said Beautrelet. + +He took out his pocket-book and handed it to the clerk, who seized +it eagerly. + +"Capital! We've come to our senses. I've no doubt there's something +to be done with you.--You're troublesome, but full of common sense. +I'll talk about it to my pals. And now I'm off. Good-bye!" + +He pocketed his revolver and turned back the fastening of the +window. There was a noise in the passage. + +"Good-bye," he said again. "I'm only just in time." + +But the idea stopped him. With a quick movement, he examined the +pocket-book: + +"Damn and blast it!" He grated through his teeth. "The paper's not +there.--You've done me--" + +He leaped into the room. Two shots rang out. Isidore, in his turn, +had seized his pistol and fired. + +"Missed, old chap!" shouted Bredoux. "Your hand's shaking.--You're +afraid--" + +They caught each other round the body and came down to the floor +together. There was a violent and incessant knocking at the door. +Isidore's strength gave way and he was at once over come by his +adversary. It was the end. A hand was lifted over him, armed with a +knife, and fell. A fierce pain burst into his shoulder. He let go. + +He had an impression of some one fumbling in the inside pocket of +his jacket and taking the paper from it. Then, through the lowered +veil of his eyelids, he half saw the man stepping over the window- +sill. + + * * * * * + +The same newspapers which, on the following morning, related the +last episodes that had occurred at the Chateau d'Ambrumesy--the +trickery at the chapel, the discovery of Arsene Lupin's body and of +Raymonde's body and, lastly, the murderous attempt made upon +Beautrelet by the clerk to the examining magistrate--also announced +two further pieces of news: the disappearance of Ganimard, and the +kidnapping of Holmlock Shears, in broad daylight, in the heart of +London, at the moment when he was about to take the train for Dover. + +Lupin's gang, therefore, which had been disorganized for a moment by +the extraordinary ingenuity of a seventeen-year-old schoolboy, was +now resuming the offensive and was winning all along the line from +the first. Lupin's two great adversaries, Shears and Ganimard, were +put away. Isidore Beautrelet was disabled. The police were +powerless. For the moment there was no one left capable of +struggling against such enemies. + + + + +CHAPTER FOUR + +FACE TO FACE + + +One evening, five weeks later, I had given my man leave to go out. +It was the day before the 14th of July. The night was hot, a storm +threatened and I felt no inclination to leave the flat. I opened +wide the glass doors leading to my balcony, lit my reading lamp and +sat down in an easy-chair to look through the papers, which I had +not yet seen. + +It goes without saying that there was something about Arsene Lupin +in all of them. Since the attempt at murder of which poor Isidore +Beautrelet had been the victim, not a day had passed without some +mention of the Ambrumesy mystery. It had a permanent headline +devoted to it. Never had public opinion been excited to that extent, +thanks to the extraordinary series of hurried events, of unexpected +and disconcerting surprises. M. Filleul, who was certainly accepting +the secondary part allotted to him with a good faith worthy of all +praise, had let the interviewers into the secret of his young +advisor's exploits during the memorable three days, so that the +public was able to indulge in the rashest suppositions. And the +public gave itself free scope. Specialists and experts in crime, +novelists and playwrights, retired magistrates and chief-detectives, +erstwhile Lecocqs and budding Holmlock Shearses, each had his theory +and expounded it in lengthy contributions to the press. Everybody +corrected and supplemented the inquiry of the examining magistrate; +and all on the word of a child, on the word of Isidore Beautrelet, a +sixth-form schoolboy at the Lycee Janson-de-Sailly! + +For really, it had to be admitted, the complete elements of the +truth were now in everybody's possession. What did the mystery +consist of? They knew the hiding-place where Arsene Lupin had taken +refuge and lain a-dying; there was no doubt about it: Dr. Delattre, +who continued to plead professional secrecy and refused to give +evidence, nevertheless confessed to his intimate friends--who lost +no time in blabbing--that he really had been taken to a crypt to +attend a wounded man whom his confederates introduced to him by the +name of Arsene Lupin. And, as the corpse of Etienne de Vaudreix was +found in that same crypt and as the said Etienne de Vaudreix was +none other than Arsene Lupin--as the official examination went to +show--all this provided an additional proof, if one were needed, of +the identity of Arsene Lupin and the wounded man. Therefore, with +Lupin dead and Mlle. de Saint-Veran's body recognized by the curb- +bracelet on her wrist, the tragedy was finished. + +It was not. Nobody thought that it was, because Beautrelet had said +the contrary. Nobody knew in what respect it was not finished, but, +on the word of the young man, the mystery remained complete. The +evidence of the senses did not prevail against the statement of a +Beautrelet. There was something which people did not know, and of +that something they were convinced that he was in position to supply +a triumphant explanation. + +It is easy, therefore, to imagine the anxiety with which, at first, +people awaited the bulletins issued by the two Dieppe doctors to +whose care the Comte de Gesvres entrusted his patient; the distress +that prevailed during the first few days, when his life was thought +to be in danger; and the enthusiasm of the morning when the +newspapers announced that there was no further cause for fear. The +least details excited the crowd. People wept at the thought of +Beautrelet nursed by his old father, who had been hurriedly summoned +by telegram, and they also admired the devotion of Mlle. Suzanne de +Gesvres, who spent night after night by the wounded lad's bedside. + +Next came a swift and glad convalescence. At last, the public were +about to know! They would know what Beautrelet had promised to +reveal to M. Filleul and the decisive words which the knife of the +would-be assassin had prevented him from uttering! And they would +also know everything, outside the tragedy itself, that remained +impenetrable or inaccessible to the efforts of the police. + +With Beautrelet free and cured of his wound, one could hope for some +certainty regarding Harlington, Arsene Lupin's mysterious +accomplice, who was still detained at the Sante prison. One would +learn what had become, after the crime, of Bredoux the clerk, that +other accomplice, whose daring was really terrifying. + +With Beautrelet free, one could also form a precise idea concerning +the disappearance of Ganimard and the kidnapping of Shears. How was +it possible for two attempts of this kind to take place? Neither the +English detectives nor their French colleagues possessed the +slightest clue on the subject. On Whit-Sunday, Ganimard did not come +home, nor on the Monday either, nor during the five weeks that +followed. In London, on Whit-Monday, Holmlock Shears took a cab at +eight o'clock in the evening to drive to the station. He had hardly +stepped in, when he tried to alight, probably feeling a presentiment +of danger. But two men jumped into the hansom, one on either side, +flung him back on the seat and kept him there between them, or +rather under them. All this happened in sight of nine or ten +witnesses, who had no time to interfere. The cab drove off at a +gallop. And, after that, nothing. Nobody knew anything. + +Perhaps, also, Beautrelet would be able to give the complete +explanation of the document, the mysterious paper to which. Bredoux, +the magistrate's clerk, attached enough importance to recover it, +with blows of the knife, from the person in whose possession it was. +The problem of the Hollow Needle it was called, by the countless +solvers of riddles who, with their eyes bent upon the figures and +dots, strove to read a meaning into them. The Hollow Needle! What a +bewildering conjunction of two simple words! What an +incomprehensible question was set by that scrap of paper, whose very +origin and manufacture were unknown! The Hollow Needle! Was it a +meaningless expression, the puzzle of a schoolboy scribbling with +pen and ink on the corner of a page? Or were they two magic words +which could compel the whole great adventure of Lupin the great +adventurer to assume its true significance? Nobody knew. + +But the public soon would know. For some days, the papers had been +announcing the approaching arrival of Beautrelet. The struggle was +on the point of recommencing; and, this time, it would be implacable +on the part of the young man, who was burning to take his revenge. +And, as it happened, my attention, just then, was drawn to his name, +printed in capitals. The Grand Journal headed its front page with +the following paragraph: + + * * * * * + +WE HAVE PERSUADED + +M. ISIDORE BEAUTRELET + +TO GIVE US THE FIRST RIGHT OF PRINTING HIS REVELATIONS. TO-MORROW, +TUESDAY, BEFORE THE POLICE THEMSELVES ARE INFORMED, THE Grand +Journal WILL PUBLISH THE WHOLE TRUTH OF THE AMBRUMESY MYSTERY. + + * * * * * + +"That's interesting, eh? What do you think of it, my dear chap?" + +I started from my chair. There was some one sitting beside me, some +one I did not know. I cast my eyes round for a weapon. But, as my +visitor's attitude appeared quite inoffensive, I restrained myself +and went up to him. + +He was a young man with strongly-marked features, long, fair hair +and a short, tawny beard, divided into two points. His dress +suggested the dark clothes of an English clergyman; and his whole +person, for that matter, wore an air of austerity and gravity that +inspired respect. + +"Who are you?" I asked. And, as he did not reply, I repeated, "Who +are you? How did you get in? What are you here for?" + +He looked at me and said: + +"Don't you know me?" + +"No--no!" + +"Oh, that's really curious! Just search your memory--one of your +friends--a friend of a rather special kind--however--" + +I caught him smartly by the arm: + +"You lie! You lie! No, you're not the man you say you are--it's not +true." + +"Then why are you thinking of that man rather than another?" he +asked, with a laugh. + +Oh, that laugh! That bright and clear young laugh, whose amusing +irony had so often contributed to my diversion! I shivered. Could it +be? + +"No, no," I protested, with a sort of terror. "It cannot be." + +"It can't be I, because I'm dead, eh?" he retorted. "And because you +don't believe in ghosts." He laughed again. "Am I the sort of man +who dies? Do you think I would die like that, shot in the back by a +girl? Really, you misjudge me! As though I would ever consent to +such a death as that!" + +"So it is you!" I stammered, still incredulous and yet greatly +excited. "So it is you! I can't manage to recognize you." + +"In that case," he said, gaily, "I am quite easy. If the only man to +whom I have shown myself in my real aspect fails to know me to-day, +then everybody who will see me henceforth as I am to-day is bound +not to know me either, when he sees me in my real aspect--if, +indeed, I have a real aspect--" + +I recognized his voice, now that he was no longer changing its tone, +and I recognized his eyes also and the expression of his face and +his whole attitude and his very being, through the counterfeit +appearance in which he had shrouded it: + +"Arsene Lupin!" I muttered. + +"Yes, Arsene Lupin!" he cried, rising from his chair. "The one and +only Arsene Lupin, returned from the realms of darkness, since it +appears that I expired and passed away in a crypt! Arsene Lupin, +alive and kicking, in the full exercise of his will, happy and free +and more than ever resolved to enjoy that happy freedom in a world +where hitherto he has received nothing but favors and privileges!" + +It was my turn to laugh: + +"Well, it's certainly you, and livelier this time than on the day +when I had the pleasure of seeing you, last year--I congratulate +you." + +I was alluding to his last visit, the visit following on the famous +adventure of the diadem, [Footnote: Arsene Lupin, play in three acts +and four scenes, by Maurice Leblanc and Francis de Croisset.] his +interrupted marriage, his flight with Sonia Kirchnoff and the +Russian girl's horrible death. On that day, I had seen an Arsene +Lupin whom I did not know, weak, down-hearted, with eyes tired with +weeping, seeking for a little sympathy and affection. + +"Be quiet," he said. "The past is far away." + +"It was a year ago," I observed. + +"It was ten years ago," he declared. "Arsene Lupin's years count for +ten times as much as another man's." + +I did not insist and, changing the conversation: + +"How did you get in?" + +"Why, how do you think? Through the door, of course. Then, as I saw +nobody, I walked across the drawing room and out by the balcony, and +here I am." + +"Yes, but the key of the door--?" + +"There are no doors for me, as you know. I wanted your flat and I +came in." + +"It is at your disposal. Am I to leave you?" + +"Oh, not at all! You won't be in the way. In fact, I can promise you +an interesting evening." + +"Are you expecting some one?" + +"Yes. I have given him an appointment here at ten o'clock." He took +out his watch. "It is ten now. If the telegram reached him, he ought +to be here soon." + +The front-door bell rang. + +"What did I tell you? No, don't trouble to get up: I'll go." + +With whom on earth could he have made an appointment? And what sort +of scene was I about to assist at: dramatic or comic? For Lupin +himself to consider it worthy of interest, the situation must be +somewhat exceptional. + +He returned in a moment and stood back to make way for a young man, +tall and thin and very pale in the face. + +Without a word and with a certain solemnity about his movements that +made me feel ill at ease. Lupin switched on all the electric lamps, +one after the other, till the room was flooded with light. Then the +two men looked at each other, exchanged profound and penetrating +glances, as if, with all the effort of their gleaming eyes, they +were trying to pierce into each other's souls. + +It was an impressive sight to see them thus, grave and silent. But +who could the newcomer be? + +I was on the point of guessing the truth, through his resemblance to +a photograph which had recently appeared in the papers, when Lupin +turned to me: + +"My dear chap, let me introduce M. Isidore Beautrelet." And, +addressing the young man, he continued, "I have to thank you, M. +Beautrelet, first, for being good enough, on receipt of a letter +from me, to postpone your revelations until after this interview +and, secondly, for granting me this interview with so good a grace." + +Beautrelet smiled: + +"Allow me to remark that my good grace consists, above all, in +obeying your orders. The threat which you made to me in the letter +in question was the more peremptory in being aimed not at me, but at +my father." + +"My word," said Lupin laughing, "we must do the best we can and make +use of the means of action vouchsafed to us. I knew by experience +that your own safety was indifferent to you, seeing that you +resisted the arguments of Master Bredoux. There remained your +father--your father for whom you have a great affection--I played on +that string." + +"And here I am," said Beautrelet, approvingly. + +I motioned them to be seated. They consented and Lupin resumed, in +that tone of imperceptible banter which is all his own: + +"In any case, M. Beautrelet, if you will not accept my thanks, you +will at least not refuse my apologies." + +"Apologies! Bless my soul, what for?" + +"For the brutality which Master Bredoux showed you." + +"I confess that the act surprised me. It was not Lupin's usual way +of behaving. A stab--" + +"I assure you I had no hand in it. Bredoux is a new recruit. My +friends, during the time that they had the management of our +affairs, thought that it might be useful to win over to our cause +the clerk of the magistrate himself who was conducting the inquiry." + +"Your friends were right." + +"Bredoux, who was specially attached to your person, was, in fact, +most valuable to us. But, with the ardor peculiar to any neophyte +who wishes to distinguish himself, he pushed his zeal too far and +thwarted my plans by permitting himself, on his own initiative, to +strike you a blow." + +"Oh, it was a little accident!" + +"Not at all, not at all! And I have reprimanded him severely! I am +bound, however, to say in his favor that he was taken unawares by +the really unexpected rapidity of your investigation. If you had +only left us a few hours longer, you would have escaped that +unpardonable attempt." + +"And I should doubtless have enjoyed the enormous advantage of +undergoing the same fate as M. Ganimard and Mr. Holmlock Shears?" + +"Exactly," said Lupin, laughing heartily. "And I should not have +known the cruel terrors which your wound caused me. I have had an +atrocious time because of it, believe me, and, at this moment, your +pallor fills me with all the stings of remorse. Can you ever forgive +me?" + +"The proof of confidence which you have shown me in delivering +yourself unconditionally into my hands--it would have been so easy +for me to bring a few of Ganimard's friends with me--that proof of +confidence wipes out everything." + +Was he speaking seriously? I confess frankly that I was greatly +perplexed. The struggle between the two men was beginning in a +manner which I was simply unable to understand. I had been present +at the first meeting between Lupin and Holmlock Shears, in the cafe +near the Gare Montparnesse, [Footnote: Arsene Lupin versus Holmlock +Shears, by Maurice Leblanc.] and I could not help recalling the +haughty carriage of the two combatants, the terrific clash of their +pride under the politeness of their manners, the hard blows which +they dealt each other, their feints, their arrogance. + +Here, it was quite different. Lupin, it is true, had not changed; he +exhibited the same tactics, the same crafty affability. But what a +strange adversary he had come upon! Was it even an adversary? +Really, he had neither the tone of one nor the appearance. Very +calm, but with a real calmness, not one assumed to cloak the passion +of a man endeavoring to restrain himself; very polite, but without +exaggeration; smiling, but without chaff, he presented the most +perfect contrast to Arsene Lupin, a contrast so perfect even that, +to my mind, Lupin appeared as much perplexed as myself. + +No, there was no doubt about it: in the presence of that frail +stripling, with cheeks smooth as a girl's and candid and charming +eyes, Lupin was losing his ordinary self-assurance. Several times +over, I observed traces of embarrassment in him. He hesitated, did +not attack frankly, wasted time in mawkish and affected phrases. + +It also looked as though he wanted something. He seemed to be +seeking, waiting. What for? Some aid? + +There was a fresh ring of the bell. He himself ran and opened the +door. He returned with a letter: + +"Will you allow me, gentlemen?" he asked. + +He opened the letter. It contained a telegram. He read it--and +became as though transformed. His face lit up, his figure righted +itself and I saw the veins on his forehead swell. It was the athlete +who once more stood before me, the ruler, sure of himself, master of +events and master of persons. He spread the telegram on the table +and, striking it with his fist, exclaimed: + +"Now, M. Beautrelet, it's you and I!" + +Beautrelet adopted a listening attitude and Lupin began, in +measured, but harsh and masterful tones: + +"Let us throw off the mask--what say you?--and have done with +hypocritical compliments. We are two enemies, who know exactly what +to think of each other; we act toward each other as enemies; and +therefore we ought to treat with each other as enemies." + +"To treat?" echoed Beautrelet, in a voice of surprise. + +"Yes, to treat. I did not use that word at random and I repeat it, +in spite of the effort, the great effort, which it costs me. This is +the first time I have employed it to an adversary. But also, I may +as well tell you at once, it is the last. Make the most of it. I +shall not leave this flat without a promise from you. If I do, it +means war." + +Beautrelet seemed more and more surprised. He said very prettily: + +"I was not prepared for this--you speak so funnily! It's so +different from what I expected! Yes, I thought you were not a bit +like that! Why this display of anger? Why use threats? Are we +enemies because circumstances bring us into opposition? Enemies? +Why?" + +Lupin appeared a little out of countenance, but he snarled and, +leaning over the boy: + +"Listen to me, youngster," he said. "It's not a question of picking +one's words. It's a question of a fact, a positive, indisputable +fact; and that fact is this: in all the past ten years, I have not +yet knocked up against an adversary of your capacity. With Ganimard +and Holmlock Shears I played as if they were children. With you, I +am obliged to defend myself, I will say more, to retreat. Yes, at +this moment, you and I well know that I must look upon myself as +worsted in the fight. Isidore Beautrelet has got the better of +Arsene Lupin. My plans are upset. What I tried to leave in the dark +you have brought into the full light of day. You annoy me, you stand +in my way. Well, I've had enough of it--Bredoux told you so to no +purpose. I now tell you so again; and I insist upon it, so that you +may take it to heart: I've had enough of it!" + +Beautrelet nodded his head: + +"Yes, but what do you want?" + +"Peace! Each of us minding his own business, keeping to his own +side!" + +"That is to say, you free to continue your burglaries undisturbed, I +free to return to my studies." + +"Your studies--anything you please--I don't care. But you must leave +me in peace--I want peace." + +"How can I trouble it now?" + +Lupin seized his hand violently: + +"You know quite well! Don't pretend not to know. You are at this +moment in possession of a secret to which I attach the highest +importance. This secret you were free to guess, but you have no +right to give it to the public." + +"Are you sure that I know it?" + +"You know it, I am certain: day by day, hour by hour, I have +followed your train of thought and the progress of your +investigations. At the very moment when Bredoux struck you, you were +about to tell all. Subsequently, you delayed your revelations, out +of solicitude for your father. But they are now promised to this +paper here. The article is written. It will be set up in an hour. It +will appear to-morrow." + +"Quite right." + +Lupin rose, and slashing the air with his hand, + +"It shall not appear!" he cried. + +"It shall appear!" said Beautrelet, starting up in his turn. + +At last, the two men were standing up to each other. I received the +impression of a shock, as if they had seized each other round the +body. Beautrelet seemed to burn with a sudden energy. It was as +though a spark had kindled within him a group of new emotions: +pluck, self-respect, the passion of fighting, the intoxication of +danger. As for Lupin, I read in the radiance of his glance the joy +of the duellist who at length encounters the sword of his hated +rival. + +"Is the article in the printer's hands?" + +"Not yet." + +"Have you it there--on you?" + +"No fear! I shouldn't have it by now, in that case!" + +"Then--" + +"One of the assistant editors has it, in a sealed envelope. If I am +not at the office by midnight, he will have set it up." + +"Oh, the scoundrel!" muttered Lupin. "He has provided for +everything!" + +His anger was increasing, visibly and frightfully. Beautrelet +chuckled, jeering in his turn, carried away by his success. + +"Stop that, you brat!" roared Lupin. "You're forgetting who I am-- +and that, if I wished--upon my word, he's daring to laugh!" + +A great silence fell between them. Then Lupin stepped forward and, +in muttered tones, with his eyes on Beautrelet's: + +"You shall go straight to the Grand Journal." + +"No." + +"Tear up your article." + +"No." + +"See the editor." + +"No." + +"Tell him you made a mistake." + +"No." + +"And write him another article, in which you will give the official +version of the Ambrumesy mystery, the one which every one has +accepted." + +"No." + +Lupin took up a steel ruler that lay on my desk and broke it in two +without an effort. His pallor was terrible to see. He wiped away the +beads of perspiration that stood on his forehead. He, who had never +known his wishes resisted, was being maddened by the obstinacy of +this child. He pressed his two hands on Beautrelet's shoulder and, +emphasizing every syllable, continued: + +"You shall do as I tell you, Beautrelet. You shall say that your +latest discoveries have convinced you of my death, that there is not +the least doubt about it. You shall say so because I wish it, +because it has to be believed that I am dead. You shall say so, +above all, because, if you do not say so--" + +"Because, if I do not say so--?" + +"Your father will be kidnapped to-night, as Ganimard and Holmlock +Shears were." + +Beautrelet gave a smile. + +"Don't laugh--answer!" + +"My answer is that I am very sorry to disappoint you, but I have +promised to speak and I shall speak." + +"Speak in the sense which I have told you." + +"I shall speak the truth," cried Beautrelet, eagerly. "It is +something which you can't understand, the pleasure, the need, +rather, of saying the thing that is and saying it aloud. The truth +is here, in this brain which has guessed it and discovered it; and +it will come out, all naked and quivering. The article, therefore, +will be printed as I wrote it. The world shall know that Lupin is +alive and shall know the reason why he wished to be considered dead. +The world shall know all." And he added, calmly, "And my father +shall not be kidnapped." + +Once again, they were both silent, with their eyes still fixed upon +each other. They watched each other. Their swords were engaged up to +the hilt. And it was like the heavy silence that goes before the +mortal blow. Which of the two was to strike it? + +Lupin said, between his teeth: + +"Failing my instructions to the contrary, two of my friends have +orders to enter your father's room to-night, at three o'clock in the +morning, to seize him and carry him off to join Ganimard and +Holmlock Shears." + +A burst of shrill laughter interrupted him: + +"Why, you highwayman, don't you understand," cried Beautrelet, "that +I have taken my precautions? So you think that I am innocent enough, +ass enough, to have sent my father home to his lonely little house +in the open country!" Oh, the gay, bantering laughter that lit up +the boy's face! It was a new sort of laugh on his lips, a laugh that +showed the influence of Lupin himself. And the familiar form of +address which he adopted placed him at once on his adversary's +level. He continued: + +"You see, Lupin, your great fault is to believe your schemes +infallible. You proclaim yourself beaten, do you? What humbug! You +are convinced that you will always win the day in the end--and you +forget that others can have their little schemes, too. Mine is a +very simple one, my friend." + +It was delightful to hear him talk. He walked up and down, with his +hands in his pockets and with the easy swagger of a boy teasing a +caged beast. Really, at this moment, he was revenging, with the most +terrible revenges, all the victims of the great adventurer. And he +concluded: + +"Lupin, my father is not in Savoy. He is at the other end of France, +in the centre of a big town, guarded by twenty of our friends, who +have orders not to lose sight of him until our battle is over. Would +you like details? He is at Cherbourg, in the house of one of the +keepers of the arsenal. And remember that the arsenal is closed at +night and that no one is allowed to enter it by day, unless he +carries an authorization and is accompanied by a guide." + +He stopped in front of Lupin and defied him, like a child making +faces at his playmate: + +"What do you say to that, master?" + +For some minutes, Lupin had stood motionless. Not a muscle of his +face had moved. What were his thoughts? Upon what action was he +resolving? To any one knowing the fierce violence of his pride the +only possible solution was the total, immediate, final collapse of +his adversary. His fingers twitched. For a second, I had a feeling +that he was about to throw himself upon the boy and wring his neck. + +"What do you say to that, master?" Beautrelet repeated. + +Lupin took up the telegram that lay on the table, held it out and +said, very calmly: + +"Here, baby, read that." + +Beautrelet became serious, suddenly, impressed by the gentleness of +the movement. He unfolded the paper and, at once, raising his eyes, +murmured: + +"What does it mean? I don't understand." + +"At any rate, you understand the first word," said Lupin, "the first +word of the telegram--that is to say, the name of the place from +which it was sent--look--'Cherbourg.'" + +"Yes--yes," stammered Beautrelet. "Yes--I understand--'Cherbourg'- +and then?" + +"And then?--I should think the rest is quite plain: 'Removal of +luggage finished. Friends left with it and will wait instructions +till eight morning. All well.' Is there anything there that seems +obscure? The word 'luggage'? Pooh, you wouldn't have them write 'M. +Beautrelet, senior'! What then? The way in which the operation was +performed? The miracle by which your father was taken out of +Cherbourg Arsenal, in spite of his twenty body-guards? Pooh, it's as +easy as A B C! And the fact remains that the luggage has been +dispatched. What do you say to that, baby?" + +With all his tense being, with all his exasperated energy, Isidore +tried to preserve a good countenance. But I saw his lips quiver, his +jaw shrink, his eyes vainly strive to fix upon a point. He lisped a +few words, then was silent and, suddenly, gave way and, with his +hands before his face, burst into loud sobs: + +"Oh, father! Father!" + +An unexpected result, which was certainly the collapse which Lupin's +pride demanded, but also something more, something infinitely +touching and infinitely artless. Lupin gave a movement of annoyance +and took up his hat, as though this unaccustomed display of +sentiment were too much for him. But, on reaching the door, he +stopped, hesitated and then returned, slowly, step by step. + +The soft sound of the sobs rose like the sad wailing of a little +child overcome with grief. The lad's shoulders marked the heart- +rending rhythm. Tears appeared through the crossed fingers. Lupin +leaned forward and, without touching Beautrelet, said, in a voice +that had not the least tone of pleasantry, nor even of the offensive +pity of the victor: + +"Don't cry, youngster. This is one of those blows which a man must +expect when he rushes headlong into the fray, as you did. The worst +disasters lie in wait for him. The destiny of fighters will have it +so. We must suffer it as bravely as we can." Then, with a sort of +gentleness, he continued, "You were right, you see: we are not +enemies. I have known it for long. From the very first, I felt for +you, for the intelligent creature that you are, an involuntary +sympathy--and admiration. And that is why I wanted to say this to +you--don't be offended, whatever you do: I should be extremely sorry +to offend you--but I must say it: well, give up struggling against +me. I am not saying this out of vanity--nor because I despise you-- +but, you see, the struggle is too unequal. You do not know--nobody +knows all the resources which I have at my command. Look here, this +secret of the Hollow Needle which you are trying so vainly to +unravel: suppose, for a moment, that it is a formidable, +inexhaustible treasure--or else an invisible, prodigious, fantastic +refuge--or both perhaps. Think of the superhuman power which I must +derive from it! And you do not know, either, all the resources which +I have within myself--all that my will and my imagination enable me +to undertake and to undertake successfully. Only think that my whole +life--ever since I was born, I might almost say--has tended toward +the same aim, that I worked like a convict before becoming what I am +and to realize, in its perfection, the type which I wished to +create--which I have succeeded in creating. That being so--what can +you do? At that very moment when you think that victory lies within +your grasp, it will escape you--there will be something of which you +have not thought--a trifle--a grain of sand which I shall have put +in the right place, unknown to you. I entreat you, give up--I should +be obliged to hurt you; and the thought distresses me." And, placing +his hand on the boy's forehead, he repeated, "Once more, youngster, +give up. I should only hurt you. Who knows if the trap into which +you will inevitably fall has not already opened under your +footsteps?" + +Beautrelet uncovered his face. He was no longer crying. Had he heard +Lupin's words? One might have doubted it, judging by his inattentive +air. + +For two or three minutes, he was silent. He seemed to weigh the +decision which he was about to take, to examine the reasons for and +against, to count up the favorable and unfavorable chances. At last, +he said to Lupin: + +"If I change the sense of the article, if I confirm the version of +your death and if I undertake never to contradict the false version +which I shall have sanctioned, do you swear that my father will be +free?" + +"I swear it. My friends have taken your father by motor car to +another provincial town. At seven o'clock to-morrow morning, if the +article in the Grand Journal is what I want it to be, I shall +telephone to them and they will restore your father to liberty." + +"Very well," said Beautrelet. "I submit to your conditions." + +Quickly, as though he saw no object in prolonging the conversation +after accepting his defeat, he rose, took his hat, bowed to me, +bowed to Lupin and went out. Lupin watched him go, listened to the +sound of the door closing and muttered: + +"Poor little beggar!" + + * * * * * + +At eight o'clock the next morning, I sent my man out to buy the +Grand Journal. It was twenty minutes before he brought me a copy, +most of the kiosks being already sold out. + +I unfolded the paper with feverish hands. Beautrelet's article +appeared on the front page. I give it as it stood and as it was +quoted in the press of the whole world: + + * * * * * + +THE AMBRUMESY MYSTERY + +I do not intend in these few sentences to set out in detail the +mental processes and the investigations that have enabled me to +reconstruct the tragedy--I should say the twofold tragedy--of +Ambrumesy. In my opinion, this sort of work and the judgments which +it entails, deductions, inductions, analyses and so on, are only +interesting in a minor degree and, in any case, are highly +commonplace. No, I shall content myself with setting forth the two +leading ideas which I followed; and, if I do that, it will be seen +that, in so setting them forth and in solving the two problems which +they raise, I shall have told the story just as it happened, in the +exact order of the different incidents. + +It may be said that some of these incidents are not proved and that +I leave too large a field to conjecture. That is quite true. But, in +my view, my theory is founded upon a sufficiently large number of +proved facts to be able to say that even those facts which are not +proved must follow from the strict logic of events. The stream is so +often lost under the pebbly bed: it is nevertheless the same stream +that reappears at intervals and mirrors back the blue sky. + +The first riddle that confronted me, a riddle not in detail, but as +a whole, was how came it that Lupin, mortally wounded, one might +say, managed to live for five or six weeks without nursing, medicine +or food, at the bottom of a dark hole? + +Let us start at the beginning. On Thursday the sixteenth of April, +at four o'clock in the morning, Arsene Lupin, surprised in the +middle of one of his most daring burglaries, runs away by the path +leading to the ruins and drops down shot. He drags himself painfully +along, falls again and picks himself up in the desperate hope of +reaching the chapel. The chapel contains a crypt, the existence of +which he has discovered by accident. If he can burrow there, he may +be saved. By dint of an effort, he approaches it, he is but a few +yards away, when a sound of footsteps approaches. Harassed and lost, +he lets himself go. The enemy arrives. It is Mlle. Raymonde de +Saint-Veran. + +This is the prologue or rather the first scene of the drama. + +What happened between them? This is the easier to guess inasmuch as +the sequel of the adventure gives us all the necessary clues. At the +girl's feet lies a wounded man, exhausted by suffering, who will be +captured in two minutes. THIS MAN HAS BEEN WOUNDED BY HERSELF. Will +she also give him up? + +If he is Jean Daval's murderer, yes, she will let destiny take its +course. But, in quick sentences, he tells her the truth about this +awful murder committed by her uncle, M. de Gesvres. She believes +him. What will she do? + +Nobody can see them. The footman Victor is watching the little door. +The other, Albert, posted at the drawing-room window, has lost sight +of both of them. Will she give up the man she has wounded? + +The girl is carried away by a movement of irresistible pity, which +any woman will understand. Instructed by Lupin, with a few movements +she binds up the wound with his handkerchief, to avoid the marks +which the blood would leave. Then, with the aid of the key which he +gives her, she opens the door of the chapel. He enters, supported by +the girl. She locks the door again and walks away. Albert arrives. + +If the chapel had been visited at that moment or at least during the +next few minutes, before Lupin had had time to recover his strength, +to raise the flagstone and disappear by the stairs leading to the +crypt, he would have been taken. But this visit did not take place +until six hours later and then only in the most superficial way. As +it is, Lupin is saved; and saved by whom? By the girl who very +nearly killed him. + +Thenceforth, whether she wishes it or no, Mlle. de Saint-Veran is +his accomplice. Not only is she no longer able to give him up, but +she is obliged to continue her work, else the wounded man will +perish in the shelter in which she has helped to conceal him. +Therefore she continues. + +For that matter, if her feminine instinct makes the task a +compulsory one, it also makes it easy. She is full of artifice, she +foresees and forestalls everything. It is she who gives the +examining magistrate a false description of Arsene Lupin (the reader +will remember the difference of opinion on this subject between the +cousins). It is she, obviously, who, thanks to certain signs which I +do not know of, suspects an accomplice of Lupin's in the driver of +the fly. She warns him. She informs him of the urgent need of an +operation. It is she, no doubt, who substitutes one cap for the +other. It is she who causes the famous letter to be written in which +she is personally threatened. How, after that, is it possible to +suspect her? + +It is she, who at that moment when I was about to confide my first +impressions to the examining magistrate, pretends to have seen me, +the day before, in the copsewood, alarms M. Filleul on my score and +reduces me to silence: a dangerous move, no doubt, because it +arouses my attention and directs it against the person who assails +me with an accusation which I know to be false; but an efficacious +move, because the most important thing of all is to gain time and +close my lips. + +Lastly, it is she who, during forty days, feeds Lupin, brings him +his medicine (the chemist at Ouville will produce the prescriptions +which he made up for Mlle. de Saint-Veran), nurses him, dresses his +wound, watches over him AND CURES HIM. + +Here we have the first of our two problems solved, at the same time +that the Ambrumesy mystery is set forth. Arsene Lupin found, close +at hand, in the chateau itself, the assistance which was +indispensable to him in order, first, not to be discovered and, +secondly, to live. + +He now lives. And we come to the second problem, corresponding with +the second Ambrumesy mystery, the study of which served me as a +conducting medium. Why does Lupin, alive, free, at the head of his +gang, omnipotent as before, why does Lupin make desperate efforts, +efforts with which I am constantly coming into collision, to force +the idea of his death upon the police and the public? + +We must remember that Mlle. de Saint-Veran was a very pretty girl. +The photographs reproduced in the papers after her disappearance +give but an imperfect notion of her beauty. That follows which was +bound to follow. Lupin, seeing this lovely girl daily for five or +six weeks, longing for her presence when she is not there, subjected +to her charm and grace when she is there, inhaling the cool perfume +of her breath when she bends over him, Lupin becomes enamored of his +nurse. Gratitude turns to love, admiration to passion. She is his +salvation, but she is also the joy of his eyes, the dream of his +lonely hours, his light, his hope, his very life. + +He respects her sufficiently not to take advantage of the girl's +devotion and not to make use of her to direct his confederates. +There is, in fact, a certain lack of decision apparent in the acts +of the gang. But he loves her also, his scruples weaken and, as +Mlle. de Saint-Veran refuses to be touched by a love that offends +her, as she relaxes her visits when they become less necessary, as +she ceases them entirely on the day when he is cured--desperate, +maddened by grief, he takes a terrible resolve. He leaves his lair, +prepares his stroke and, on Saturday the sixth of June, assisted by +his accomplices, he carries off the girl. + +This is not all. The abduction must not be known. All search, all +surmises, all hope, even, must be cut short. Mlle. de Saint-Veran +must pass for dead. There is a mock murder: proofs are supplied for +the police inquiries. There is doubt about the crime, a crime, for +that matter, not unexpected, a crime foretold by the accomplices, a +crime perpetrated to revenge the chief's death. And, through this +very fact--observe the marvelous ingenuity of the conception-- +through this very fact, the belief in this death is, so to speak, +stimulated. + +It is not enough to suggest a belief; it is necessary to compel a +certainty. Lupin foresees my interference. I am sure to guess the +trickery of the chapel. I am sure to discover the crypt. And, as the +crypt will be empty, the whole scaffolding will come to the ground. + +THE CRYPT SHALL NOT BE EMPTY. + +In the same way, the death of Mlle. de Saint-Veran will not be +definite, unless the sea gives up her corpse. + +THE SEA SHALL GIVE UP THE CORPSE OF MLLE. DE SAINT-VERAN. + +The difficulty is tremendous. The double obstacle seems +insurmountable. Yes, to any one but Lupin, but not to Lupin. + +As he had foreseen, I guess the trickery of the chapel, I discover +the crypt and I go down into the lair where Lupin has taken refuge. +His corpse is there! + +Any person who had admitted the death of Lupin as possible would +have been baffled. But I had not admitted this eventuality for an +instant (first, by intuition and, secondly, by reasoning). Pretense +thereupon became useless and every scheme vain. I said to myself at +once that the block of stone disturbed by the pickaxe had been +placed there with a very curious exactness, that the least knock was +bound to make it fall and that, in falling, it must inevitably +reduce the head of the false Arsene Lupin to pulp, in such a way as +to make it utterly irrecognizable. + +Another discovery: half an hour later, I hear that the body of Mlle. +de Saint-Veran has been found on the rocks at Dieppe--or rather a +body which is considered to be Mlle. de Saint-Veran's, for the +reason that the arm has a bracelet similar to one of that young +lady's bracelets. This, however, is the only mark of identity, for +the corpse is irrecognizable. + +Thereupon I remember and I understand. A few days earlier, I +happened to read in a number of the Vigie de Dieppe that a young +American couple staying at Envermeu had committed suicide by taking +poison and that their bodies had disappeared on the very night of +the death. I hasten to Envermeu. The story is true, I am told, +except in so far as concerns the disappearance, because the brothers +of the victims came to claim the corpses and took them away after +the usual formalities. The name of these brothers, no doubt, was +Arsene Lupin & Co. + +Consequently, the thing is proved. We know why Lupin shammed the +murder of the girl and spread the rumor of his own death. He is in +love and does not wish it known. And, to reach his ends, he shrinks +from nothing, he even undertakes that incredible theft of the two +corpses which he needs in order to impersonate himself and Mlle. de +Saint-Veran. In this way, he will be at ease. No one can disturb +him. No one will ever suspect the truth which he wishes to suppress. + +No one? Yes--three adversaries, at the most, might conceive doubts: +Ganimard, whose arrival is hourly expected; Holmlock Shears, who is +about to cross the Channel; and I, who am on the spot. This +constitutes a threefold danger. He removes it. He kidnaps Ganimard. +He kidnaps Holmlock Shears. He has me stabbed by Bredoux. + +One point alone remains obscure. Why was Lupin so fiercely bent upon +snatching the document about the Hollow Needle from me? He surely +did not imagine that, by taking it away, he could wipe out from my +memory the text of the five lines of which it consists! Then why? +Did he fear that the character of the paper itself, or some other +clue, could give me a hint? + +Be that as it may, this is the truth of the Ambrumesy mystery. I +repeat that conjecture plays a certain part in the explanation which +I offer, even as it played a great part in my personal +investigation. But, if one waited for proofs and facts to fight +Lupin, one would run a great risk either of waiting forever or else +of discovering proofs and facts carefully prepared by Lupin, which +would lead in a direction immediately opposite to the object in +view. I feel confident that the facts, when they are known, will +confirm my surmise in every respect. + + * * * * * + +So Isidore Beautrelet, mastered for a moment by Arsene Lupin, +distressed by the abduction of his father and resigned to defeat, +Isidore Beautrelet, in the end, was unable to persuade himself to +keep silence. The truth was too beautiful and too curious, the +proofs which he was able to produce were too logical and too +conclusive for him to consent to misrepresent it. The whole world +was waiting for his revelations. He spoke. + + * * * * * + +On the evening of the day on which his article appeared, the +newspapers announced the kidnapping of M. Beautrelet, senior. +Isidore was informed of it by a telegram from Cherbourg, which +reached him at three o'clock. + + + + +CHAPTER FIVE + +ON THE TRACK + + +Young Beautrelet was stunned by the violence of the blow. As a +matter of fact, although, in publishing his article, he had obeyed +one of those irresistible impulses which make a man despise every +consideration of prudence, he had never really believed in the +possibility of an abduction. His precautions had been too thorough. +The friends at Cherbourg not only had instructions to guard and +protect Beautrelet the elder: they were also to watch his comings +and goings, never to let him walk out alone and not even to hand him +a single letter without first opening it. No, there was no danger. +Lupin, wishing to gain time, was trying to intimidate his adversary. + +The blow, therefore, was almost unexpected; and Isidore, because he +was powerless to act, felt the pain of the shock during the whole of +the remainder of the day. One idea alone supported him: that of +leaving Paris, going down there, seeing for himself what had +happened and resuming the offensive. + +He telegraphed to Cherbourg. He was at Saint-Lazare a little before +nine. A few minutes after, he was steaming out of the station in the +Normandy express. + +It was not until an hour later, when he mechanically unfolded a +newspaper which he had bought on the platform, that he became aware +of the letter by which Lupin indirectly replied to his article of +that morning: + + * * * * * + +To the Editor of the Grand Journal. + +SIR: I cannot pretend but that my modest personality, which would +certainly have passed unnoticed in more heroic times, has acquired a +certain prominence in the dull and feeble period in which we live. +But there is a limit beyond which the morbid curiosity of the crowd +cannot go without becoming indecently indiscreet. If the walls that +surround our private lives be not respected, what is to safeguard +the rights of the citizen? + +Will those who differ plead the higher interest of truth? An empty +pretext in so far as I am concerned, because the truth is known and +I raise no difficulty about making an official confession of the +truth in writing. Yes, Mlle. de Saint-Veran is alive. Yes, I love +her. Yes, I have the mortification not to be loved by her. Yes, the +results of the boy Beautrelet's inquiry are wonderful in their +precision and accuracy. Yes, we agree on every point. There is no +riddle left. There is no mystery. Well, then, what? + +Injured to the very depths of my soul, bleeding still from cruel +wounds, I ask that my more intimate feelings and secret hopes may no +longer be delivered to the malevolence of the public. I ask for +peace, the peace which I need to conquer the affection of Mlle. de +Saint-Veran and to wipe out from her memory the thousand little +injuries which she has had to suffer at the hands of her uncle and +cousin--this has not been told--because of her position as a poor +relation. Mlle. de Saint-Veran will forget this hateful past. All +that she can desire, were it the fairest jewel in the world, were it +the most unattainable treasure, I shall lay at her feet. She will be +happy. She will love me. + +But, if I am to succeed, once more, I require peace. That is why I +lay down my arms and hold out the olive-branch to my enemies--while +warning them, with every magnanimity on my part, that a refusal on +theirs might bring down upon them the gravest consequences. + +One word more on the subject of Mr. Harlington. This name conceals +the identity of an excellent fellow, who is secretary to Cooley, the +American millionaire, and instructed by him to lay hands upon every +object of ancient art in Europe which it is possible to discover. +His evil star brought him into touch with my friend Etienne de +Vaudreix, ALIAS Arsene Lupin, ALIAS myself. He learnt, in this way, +that a certain M. de Gesvres was willing to part with four pictures +by Rubens, ostensibly on the condition that they were replaced by +copies and that the bargain to which he was consenting remained +unknown. My friend Vaudreix also undertook to persuade M. de Gesvres +to sell his chapel. The negotiations were conducted with entire good +faith on the side of my friend Vaudreix and with charming +ingenuousness on the side of Mr. Harlington, until the day when the +Rubenses and the carvings from the chapel were in a safe place and +Mr. Harlington in prison. There remains nothing, therefore, to be +done but to release the unfortunate American, because he was content +to play the modest part of a dupe; to brand the millionaire Cooley, +because, for fear of possible unpleasantness, he did not protest +against his secretary's arrest; and to congratulate my friend +Etienne de Vaudreix, because he is revenging the outraged morality +of the public by keeping the hundred thousand francs which he was +paid on account by that singularly unattractive person, Cooley. + +Pray, pardon the length of this letter and permit me to be, Sir, + +Your obedient servant, + +ARSENE LUPIN. + + * * * * * + +Isidore weighed the words of this communication as minutely, +perhaps, as he had studied the document concerning the Hollow +Needle. He went on the principle, the correctness of which was +easily proved, that Lupin had never taken the trouble to send one of +his amusing letters to the press without absolute necessity, without +some motive which events were sure, sooner or later, to bring to +light. + +What was the motive for this particular letter? For what hidden +reason was Lupin confessing his love and the failure of that love? +Was it there that Beautrelet had to seek, or in the explanations +regarding Mr. Harlington, or further still, between the lines, +behind all those words whose apparent meaning had perhaps no other +object than to suggest some wicked, perfidious, misleading little +idea? + +For hours, the young man, confined to his compartment, remained +pensive and anxious. The letter filled him with mistrust, as though +it had been written for his benefit and were destined to lead him, +personally, into error. For the first time and because he found +himself confronted not with a direct attack, but with an ambiguous, +indefinable method of fighting, he underwent a distinct sensation of +fear. And, when he thought of his good old, easy-going father, +kidnapped through his fault, he asked himself, with a pang, whether +he was not mad to continue so unequal a contest. Was the result not +certain? Had Lupin not won the game in advance? + +It was but a short moment of weakness. When he alighted from his +compartment, at six o'clock in the morning, refreshed by a few +hours' sleep, he had recovered all his confidence. + +On the platform, Froberval, the dockyard clerk who had given +hospitality to M. Beautrelet, senior, was waiting for him, +accompanied by his daughter Charlotte, an imp of twelve or thirteen. + +"Well?" cried Isidore. + +The worthy man beginning to moan and groan, he interrupted him, +dragged him to a neighboring tavern, ordered coffee and began to put +plain questions, without permitting the other the slightest +digression: + +"My father has not been carried off, has he? It was impossible." + +"Impossible. Still, he has disappeared." + +"Since when?" + +"We don't know." + +"What!" + +"No. Yesterday morning, at six o'clock, as I had not seen him come +down as usual, I opened his door. He was gone." + +"But was he there on the day before, two days ago?" + +"Yes. On the day before yesterday, he did not leave his room. He was +a little tired; and Charlotte took his lunch up to him at twelve and +his dinner at seven in the evening." + +"So it was between seven o'clock in the evening, on the day before +yesterday, and six o'clock on yesterday morning that he +disappeared?" + +"Yes, during the night before last. Only--" + +"Only what?" + +"Well, it's like this: you can't leave the arsenal at night." + +"Do you mean that he has not left it?" + +"That's impossible! My friends and I have searched the whole naval +harbor." + +"Then he has left it!" + +"Impossible, every outlet is guarded!" + +Beautrelet reflected and then said: + +"What next?" + +"Next, I hurried to the commandant's and informed the officer in +charge." + +"Did he come to your house?" + +"Yes; and a gentleman from the public prosecutor's also. They +searched all through the morning; and, when I saw that they were +making no progress and that there was no hope left, I telegraphed to +you." + +"Was the bed disarranged in his room?" + +"No." + +"Nor the room disturbed in any way?" + +"No. I found his pipe in its usual place, with his tobacco and the +book which he was reading. There was even this little photograph of +yourself in the middle of the book, marking the page." + +"Let me see it." + +Froberval passed him the photograph. Beautrelet gave a start of +surprise. He had recognized himself in the snapshot, standing, with +his two hands in his pockets, on a lawn from which rose trees and +ruins. + +Froberval added: + +"It must be the last portrait of yourself which you sent him. Look, +on the back, you will see the date, 3 April, the name of the +photographer, R. de Val, and the name of the town, Lion--Lion-sur- +Mer, perhaps." + +Isidore turned the photograph over and read this little note, in his +own handwriting: + +"R. de Val.--3.4--Lion." + +He was silent for a few minutes and resumed: + +"My father hadn't shown you that snapshot yet?" + +"No--and that's just what astonished me when I saw it yesterday--for +your father used so often to talk to us about you." + +There was a fresh pause, greatly prolonged. Froberval muttered: + +"I have business at the workshop. We might as well go in--" + +He was silent. Isidore had not taken his eyes from the photograph, +was examining it from every point of view. At last, the boy asked: + +"Is there such a thing as an inn called the Lion d'Or at a short +league outside the town?" + +"Yes, about a league from here." + +"On the Route de Valognes, is it?" + +"Yes, on the Route de Valognes." + +"Well, I have every reason to believe that this inn was the head- +quarters of Lupin's friends. It was from there that they entered +into communication with my father." + +"What an idea! Your father spoke to nobody. He saw nobody." + +"He saw nobody, but they made use of an intermediary." + +"What proof have you?" + +"This photograph." + +"But it's your photograph!" + +"It's my photograph, but it was not sent by me. I was not even aware +of its existence. It was taken, without my knowledge, in the ruins +of Ambrumesy, doubtless by the examining-magistrate's clerk, who, as +you know, was an accomplice of Arsene Lupin's." + +"And then?" + +"Then this photograph became the passport, the talisman, by means of +which they obtained my father's confidence." + +"But who? Who was able to get into my house?" + +"I don't know, but my father fell into the trap. They told him and +he believed that I was in the neighborhood, that I was asking to see +him and that I was giving him an appointment at the Golden Lion." + +"But all this is nonsense! How can you assert--?" + +"Very simply. They imitated my writing on the back of the photograph +and specified the meeting-place: Valognes Road, 3 kilometres 400, +Lion Inn. My father came and they seized him, that's all." + +"Very well," muttered Froberval, dumbfounded, "very well. I admit +it--things happened as you say--but that does not explain how he was +able to leave during the night." + +"He left in broad daylight, though he waited until dark to go to the +meeting-place." + +"But, confound it, he didn't leave his room the whole of the day +before yesterday!" + +"There is one way of making sure: run down to the dockyard, +Froberval, and look for one of the men who were on guard in the +afternoon, two days ago.--Only, be quick, if you wish to find me +here." + +"Are you going?" + +"Yes, I shall take the next train back." + +"What!--Why, you don't know--your inquiry--" + +"My inquiry is finished. I know pretty well all that I wanted to +know. I shall have left Cherbourg in an hour." + +Froberval rose to go. He looked at Beautrelet with an air of +absolute bewilderment, hesitated a moment and then took his cap: + +"Are you coming, Charlotte?" + +"No," said Beautrelet, "I shall want a few more particulars. Leave +her with me. Besides, I want to talk to her. I knew her when she was +quite small." + +Froberval went away. Beautrelet and the little girl remained alone +in the tavern smoking room. A few minutes passed, a waiter entered, +cleared away some cups and left the room again. The eyes of the +young man and the child met; and Beautrelet placed his hand very +gently on the little girl's hand. She looked at him for two or three +seconds, distractedly, as though about to choke. Then, suddenly +hiding her head between her folded arms, she burst into sobs. + +He let her cry and, after a while, said: + +"It was you, wasn't it, who did all the mischief, who acted as go- +between? It was you who took him the photograph? You admit it, don't +you? And, when you said that my father was in his room, two days +ago, you knew that it was not true, did you not, because you +yourself had helped him to leave it--?" + +She made no reply. He asked: + +"Why did you do it? They offered you money, I suppose--to buy +ribbons with a frock--?" + +He uncrossed Charlotte's arms and lifted up her head. He saw a poor +little face all streaked with tears, the attractive, disquieting, +mobile face of one of those little girls who seem marked out for +temptation and weakness. + +"Come," said Beautrelet, "it's over, we'll say no more about it. I +will not even ask you how it happened. Only you must tell me +everything that can be of use to me.--Did you catch anything--any +remark made by those men? How did they carry him off?" + +She replied at once: + +"By motor car. I heard them talking about it--" + +"And what road did they take?" + +"Ah, I don't know that!" + +"Didn't they say anything before you--something that might help us?" + +"No--wait, though: there was one who said, 'We shall have no time to +lose--the governor is to telephone to us at eight o'clock in the +morning--'" + +"Where to?" + +"I can't say.--I've forgotten--" + +"Try--try and remember. It was the name of a town, wasn't it?" + +"Yes--a name--like Chateau--" + +"Chateaubriant?--Chateau-Thierry?--" + +"No-no--" + +"Chateauroux?" + +"Yes, that was it--Chateauroux--" + +Beautrelet did not wait for her to complete her sentence. Already he +was on his feet and, without giving a thought to Froberval, without +even troubling about the child, who stood gazing at him in +stupefaction, he opened the door and ran to the station: + +"Chateauroux, madame--a ticket for Chateauroux--" + +"Over Mans and Tours?" asked the booking-clerk. + +"Of course--the shortest way. Shall I be there for lunch?" + +"Oh, no!" + +"For dinner? Bedtime--?" + +"Oh, no! For that, you would have to go over Paris. The Paris +express leaves at nine o'clock. You're too late--" + +It was not too late. Beautrelet was just able to catch the train. + +"Well," said Beautrelet, rubbing his hands, "I have spent only two +hours or so at Cherbourg, but they were well employed." + +He did not for a moment think of accusing Charlotte of lying. Weak, +unstable, capable of the worst treacheries, those petty natures also +obey impulses of sincerity; and Beautrelet had read in her +affrighted eyes her shame for the harm which she had done and her +delight at repairing it in part. He had no doubt, therefore, that +Chateauroux was the other town to which Lupin had referred and where +his confederates were to telephone to him. + +On his arrival in Paris, Beautrelet took every necessary precaution +to avoid being followed. He felt that it was a serious moment. He +was on the right road that was leading him to his father: one act of +imprudence might ruin all. + +He went to the flat of one of his schoolfellows and came out, an +hour later, irrecognizable, rigged out as an Englishman of thirty, +in a brown check suit, with knickerbockers, woolen stockings and a +cap, a high-colored complexion and a red wig. He jumped on a bicycle +laden with a complete painter's outfit and rode off to the Gare +d'Austerlitz. + +He slept that night at Issoudun. The next morning, he mounted his +machine at break of day. At seven o'clock, he walked into the +Chateauroux post-office and asked to be put on to Paris. As he had +to wait, he entered into conversation with the clerk and learnt +that, two days before, at the same hour, a man dressed for motoring +had also asked for Paris. + +The proof was established. He waited no longer. + +By the afternoon, he had ascertained, from undeniable evidence, that +a limousine car, following the Tours road, had passed through the +village of Buzancais and the town of Chateauroux and had stopped +beyond the town, on the verge of the forest. At ten o'clock, a hired +gig, driven by a man unknown, had stopped beside the car and then +gone off south, through the valley of the Bouzanne. There was then +another person seated beside the driver. As for the car, it had +turned in the opposite direction and gone north, toward Issoudun. + +Beautrelet easily discovered the owner of the gig, who, however, had +no information to supply. He had hired out his horse and trap to a +man who brought them back himself next day. + +Lastly, that same evening, Isidore found out that the motor car had +only passed through Issoudun, continuing its road toward Orleans, +that is to say, toward Paris. + +From all this, it resulted, in the most absolute fashion, that M. +Beautrelet was somewhere in the neighborhood. If not, how was it +conceivable that people should travel nearly three hundred miles +across France in order to telephone from Chateauroux and next to +return, at an acute angle, by the Paris road? + +This immense circuit had a more definite object: to move M. +Beautrelet to the place assigned to him. + +"And this place is within reach of my hand," said Isidore to +himself, quivering with hope and expectation. "My father is waiting +for me to rescue him at ten or fifteen leagues from here. He is +close by. He is breathing the same air as I." + +He set to work at once. Taking a war-office map, he divided it into +small squares, which he visited one after the other, entering the +farmhouses making the peasants talk, calling on the schoolmasters, +the mayors, the parish priests, chatting to the women. It seemed to +him that he must attain his end without delay and his dreams grew +until it was no longer his father alone whom he hoped to deliver, +but all those whom Lupin was holding captive: Raymonde de Saint- +Veran, Ganimard, Holmlock Shears, perhaps, and others, many others; +and, in reaching them, he would, at the same time, reach Lupin's +stronghold, his lair, the impenetrable retreat where he was piling +up the treasures of which he had robbed the wide world. + +But, after a fortnight's useless searching, his enthusiasm ended by +slackening and he very soon lost confidence. Because success was +slow in appearing, from one day to the next, almost, he ceased to +believe in it; and, though he continued to pursue his plan of +investigations, he would have felt a real surprise if his efforts +had led to the smallest discovery. + +More days still passed by, monotonous days of discouragement. He +read in the newspapers that the Comte de Gesvres and his daughter +had left Ambrumesy and gone to stay near Nice. He also learnt that +Harlington had been released, that gentleman's innocence having +become self-obvious, in accordance with the indications supplied by +Arsene Lupin. + +Isidore changed his head-quarters, established himself for two days +at the Chatre, for two days at Argenton. The result was the same. + +Just then, he was nearly throwing up the game. Evidently, the gig in +which his father had been carried off could only have furnished a +stage, which had been followed by another stage, furnished by some +other conveyance. And his father was far away. + +He was thinking of leaving, when, one Monday morning, he saw, on the +envelope of an unstamped letter, sent on to him from Paris, a +handwriting that set him trembling with emotion. So great was his +excitement that, for some minutes, he dared not open the letter, for +fear of a disappointment. His hand shook. Was it possible? Was this +not a trap laid for him by his infernal enemy? + +He tore open the envelope. It was indeed a letter from his father, +written by his father himself. The handwriting presented all the +peculiarities, all the oddities of the hand which he knew so well. + +He read: + + * * * * * + +Will these lines ever reach you, my dear son? I dare not believe it. + +During the whole night of my abduction, we traveled by motor car; +then, in the morning, by carriage. I could see nothing. My eyes were +bandaged. The castle in which I am confined should be somewhere in +the midlands, to judge by its construction and the vegetation in the +park. The room which I occupy is on the second floor: it is a room +with two windows, one of which is almost blocked by a screen of +climbing glycines. In the afternoon, I am allowed to walk about the +park, at certain hours, but I am kept under unrelaxing observation. + +I am writing this letter, on the mere chance of its reaching you, +and fastening it to a stone. Perhaps, one day, I shall be able to +throw it over the wall and some peasant will pick it up. + +But do not be distressed about me. I am treated with every +consideration. + +Your old father, who is very fond of you and very sad to think of +the trouble he is giving you, + +BEAUTRELET. + + * * * * * + +Isidore at once looked at the postmarks. They read, "Cuzion, Indre." + +The Indre! The department which he had been stubbornly searching for +weeks! + +He consulted a little pocket-guide which he always carried. Cuzion, +in the canton of Eguzon--he had been there too. + +For prudence's sake, he discarded his personality as an Englishman, +which was becoming too well known in the district, disguised himself +as a workman and made for Cuzion. It was an unimportant village. He +would easily discover the sender of the letter. + +For that matter, chance served him without delay: + +"A letter posted on Wednesday last?" exclaimed the mayor, a +respectable tradesman in whom he confided and who placed himself at +his disposal. "Listen, I think I can give you a valuable clue: on +Saturday morning, Gaffer Charel, an old knife-grinder who visits all +the fairs in the department, met me at the end of the village and +asked, 'Monsieur le maire, does a letter without a stamp on it go +all the same?' 'Of course,' said I. 'And does it get there?' +'Certainly. Only there's double postage to pay on it, that's all the +difference.'" + +"And where does he live?" + +"He lives over there, all alone--on the slope--the hovel that comes +next after the churchyard.--Shall I go with you?" + +It was a hovel standing by itself, in the middle of an orchard +surrounded by tall trees. As they entered the orchard, three magpies +flew away with a great splutter and they saw that the birds were +flying out of the very hole in which the watch-dog was fastened. And +the dog neither barked nor stirred as they approached. + +Beautrelet went up in great surprise. The brute was lying on its +side, with stiff paws, dead. + +They ran quickly to the cottage. The door stood open. They entered. +At the back of a low, damp room, on a wretched straw mattress, flung +on the floor itself, lay a man fully dressed. + +"Gaffer Charel!" cried the mayor. "Is he dead, too?" + +The old man's hands were cold, his face terribly pale, but his heart +was still beating, with a faint, slow throb, and he seemed not to be +wounded in any way. + +They tried to resuscitate him and, as they failed in their efforts, +Beautrelet went to fetch a doctor. The doctor succeeded no better +than they had done. The old man did not seem to be suffering. He +looked as if he were just asleep, but with an artificial slumber, as +though he had been put to sleep by hypnotism or with the aid of a +narcotic. + +In the middle of the night that followed, however, Isidore, who was +watching by his side, observed that the breathing became stronger +and that his whole being appeared to be throwing off the invisible +bonds that paralyzed it. + +At daybreak, he woke up and resumed his normal functions: ate, drank +and moved about. But, the whole day long, he was unable to reply to +the young man's questions and his brain seemed as though still +numbed by an inexplicable torpor. + +The next day, he asked Beautrelet: + +"What are you doing here, eh?" + +It was the first time that he had shown surprise at the presence of +a stranger beside him. + +Gradually, in this way, he recovered all his faculties. He talked. +He made plans. But, when Beautrelet asked him about the events +immediately preceding his sleep, he seemed not to understand. + +And Beautrelet felt that he really did not understand. He had lost +the recollection of all that had happened since the Friday before. +It was like a sudden gap in the ordinary flow of his life. He +described his morning and afternoon on the Friday, the purchases he +had made at the fair, the meals he had taken at the inn. Then-- +nothing--nothing more. He believed himself to be waking on the +morrow of that day. + +It was horrible for Beautrelet. The truth lay there, in those eyes +which had seen the walls of the park behind which his father was +waiting for him, in those hands which had picked up the letter, in +that muddled brain which had recorded the whereabouts of that scene, +the setting, the little corner of the world in which the play had +been enacted. And from those hands, from that brain he was unable to +extract the faintest echo of the truth so near at hand! + +Oh, that impalpable and formidable obstacle, against which all his +efforts hurled themselves in vain, that obstacle built up of silence +and oblivion! How clearly it bore the mark of Arsene Lupin! He +alone, informed, no doubt, that M. Beautrelet had attempted to give +a signal, he alone could have struck with partial death the one man +whose evidence could injure him. It was not that Beautrelet felt +himself to be discovered or thought that Lupin, hearing of his +stealthy attack and knowing that a letter had reached him, was +defending himself against him personally. But what an amount of +foresight and real intelligence it displayed to suppress any +possible accusation on the part of that chance wayfarer! Nobody now +knew that within the walls of a park there lay a prisoner asking for +help. + +Nobody? Yes, Beautrelet. Gaffer Charel was unable to speak. Very +well. But, at least, one could find out which fair the old man had +visited and which was the logical road that he had taken to return +by. And, along this road, perhaps it would at last be possible to +find-- + +Isidore, as it was, had been careful not to visit Gaffer Charel's +hovel except with the greatest precautions and in such a way as not +to give an alarm. He now decided not to go back to it. He made +inquiries and learnt that Friday was market-day at Fresselines, a +fair-sized town situated a few leagues off, which could be reached +either by the rather winding highroad or by a series of short cuts. + +On the Friday, he chose the road and saw nothing that attracted his +attention, no high walled enclosure, no semblance of an old castle. + +He lunched at an inn at Fresselines and was on the point of leaving +when he saw Gaffer Charel arrive and cross the square, wheeling his +little knife-grinding barrow before him. He at once followed him at +a good distance. + +The old man made two interminable waits, during which he ground +dozens of knives. Then, at last, he went away by a quite different +road, which ran in the direction of Crozant and the market-town of +Eguzon. + +Beautrelet followed him along this road. But he had not walked five +minutes before he received the impression that he was not alone in +shadowing the old fellow. A man was walking along between them, +stopping at the same time as Charel and starting off again when he +did, without, for that matter, taking any great precautions against +being seen. + +"He is being watched," thought Beautrelet. "Perhaps they want to +know if he stops in front of the walls--" + +His heart beat violently. The event was at hand. + +The three of them, one behind the other, climbed up and down the +steep slopes of the country and arrived at Crozant, famed for the +colossal ruins of its castle. There Charel made a halt of an hour's +duration. Next he went down to the riverside and crossed the bridge. + +But then a thing happened that took Beautrelet by surprise. The +other man did not cross the river. He watched the old fellow move +away and, when he had lost sight of him, turned down a path that +took him right across the fields. + +Beautrelet hesitated for a few seconds as to what course to take, +and then quietly decided. He set off in pursuit of the man. + +"He has made sure," he thought, "that Gaffer Charel has gone +straight ahead. That is all he wanted to know and so he is going-- +where? To the castle?" + +He was within touch of the goal. He felt it by a sort of agonizing +gladness that uplifted his whole being. + +The man plunged into a dark wood overhanging the river and then +appeared once more in the full light, where the path met the +horizon. + +When Beautrelet, in his turn, emerged from the wood, he was greatly +surprised no longer to see the man. He was seeking him with his eyes +when, suddenly, he gave a stifled cry and, with a backward spring, +made for the line of trees which he had just left. On his right, he +had seen a rampart of high walls, flanked, at regular distances, by +massive buttresses. + +It was there! It was there! Those walls held his father captive! He +had found the secret place where Lupin confined his victim. + +He dared not quit the shelter which the thick foliage of the wood +afforded him. Slowly, almost on all fours, he bore to the right and +in this way reached the top of a hillock that rose to the level of +the neighboring trees. The walls were taller still. Nevertheless, he +perceived the roof of the castle which they surrounded, an old Louis +XIII. roof, surmounted by very slender bell-turrets arranged corbel- +wise around a higher steeple which ran to a point. + +Beautrelet did no more that day. He felt the need to reflect and to +prepare his plan of attack without leaving anything to chance. He +held Lupin safe; and it was for Beautrelet now to select the hour +and the manner of the combat. + +He walked away. + +Near the bridge, he met two country-girls carrying pails of milk. He +asked: + +"What is the name of the castle over there, behind the trees?" + +"That's the Chateau de l'Aiguille, sir." + +He had put his question without attaching any importance to it. The +answer took away his breath: + +"The Chateau de l'Aiguille?--Oh!--But in what department are we? The +Indre?" + +"Certainly not. The Indre is on the other side of the river. This +side, it's the Creuse." + +Isidore saw it all in a flash. The Chateau de l'Aiguille! The +department of the Creuse! L'AIGUILLE CREUSE! The Hollow Needle! The +very key to the document! Certain, decisive, absolute victory! + +Without another word, he turned his back on the two girls and went +his way, tottering like a drunken man. + + + + +CHAPTER SIX + +AN HISTORIC SECRET + + +Beautrelet's resolve was soon taken: he would act alone. To inform +the police was too dangerous. Apart from the fact that he could only +offer presumptions, he dreaded the slowness of the police, their +inevitable indiscretions, the whole preliminary inquiry, during +which Lupin, who was sure to be warned, would have time to effect a +retreat in good order. + +At eight o'clock the next morning, with his bundle under his arm, he +left the inn in which he was staying near Cuzion, made for the +nearest thicket, took off his workman's clothes, became once more +the young English painter that he had been and went to call on the +notary at Eguzon, the largest place in the immediate neighborhood. + +He said that he liked the country and that he was thinking of taking +up his residence there, with his relations, if he could find a +suitable house. + +The notary mentioned a number of properties. Beautrelet took note of +them and let fall that some one had spoken to him of the Chateau de +l'Aiguille, on the bank of the Creuse. + +"Oh, yes, but the Chateau de l'Aiguille, which has belonged to one +of my clients for the last five years, is not for sale." + +"He lives in it, then?" + +"He used to live in it, or rather his mother did. But she did not +care for it; found the castle rather gloomy. So they left it last +year." + +"And is no one living there at present?" + +"Yes, an Italian, to whom my client let it for the summer season: +Baron Anfredi." + +"Oh, Baron Anfredi! A man still young, rather grave and solemn- +looking--?" + +"I'm sure I can't say.--My client dealt with him direct. There was +no regular agreement, just a letter--" + +"But you know the baron?" + +"No, he never leaves the castle.--Sometimes, in his motor, at night, +so they say. The marketing is done by an old cook, who talks to +nobody. They are queer people--" + +"Do you think your client would consent to sell his castle?" + +"I don't think so. It's an historic castle, built in the purest +Louis XIII. style. My client was very fond of it; and, unless he has +changed his mind--" + +"Can you give me his name and address?" + +"Louis Valmeras, 34, Rue du Mont-Thabor." + +Beautrelet took the train for Paris at the nearest station. On the +next day but one, after three fruitless calls, he at last found +Louis Valmeras at home. He was a man of about thirty, with a frank +and pleasing face. Beautrelet saw no need to beat about the bush, +stated who he was and described his efforts and the object of the +step which he was now taking: + +"I have good reason to believe," he concluded, "that my father is +imprisoned in the Chateau de l'Aiguille, doubtless in the company of +other victims. And I have come to ask you what you know of your +tenant, Baron Anfredi." + +"Not much. I met Baron Anfredi last winter at Monte Carlo. He had +heard by accident that I was the owner of the Chateau de l'Aiguille +and, as he wished to spend the summer in France, he made me an offer +for it." + +"He is still a young man--" + +"Yes, with very expressive eyes, fair hair--" + +"And a beard?" + +"Yes, ending in two points, which fall over a collar fastened at the +back, like a clergyman's. In fact, he looks a little like an English +parson." + +"It's he," murmured Beautrelet, "it's he, as I have seen him: it's +his exact description." + +"What! Do you think--?" + +"I think, I am sure that your tenant is none other than Arsene +Lupin." + +The story amused Louis Valmeras. He knew all the adventures of +Arsene Lupin and the varying fortunes of his struggle with +Beautrelet. He rubbed his hands: + +"Ha, the Chateau de l'Aiguille will become famous!--I'm sure I don't +mind, for, as a matter of fact, now that my mother no longer lives +in it, I have always thought that I would get rid of it at the first +opportunity. After this, I shall soon find a purchaser. Only--" + +"Only what?" + +"I will ask you to act with the most extreme prudence and not to +inform the police until you are quite sure. Can you picture the +situation, supposing my tenant were not Arsene Lupin?" + +Beautrelet set forth his plan. He would go alone at night; he would +climb the walls; he would sleep in the park-- + +Louis Valmeras stopped him at once: + +"You will not climb walls of that height so easily. If you do, you +will be received by two huge sheep-dogs which belonged to my mother +and which I left behind at the castle." + +"Pooh! A dose of poison--" + +"Much obliged. But suppose you escaped them. What then? How would +you get into the castle? The doors are massive, the windows barred. +And, even then, once you were inside, who would guide you? There are +eighty rooms." + +"Yes, but that room with two windows, on the second story--" + +"I know it, we call it the glycine room. But how will you find it? +There are three staircases and a labyrinth of passages. I can give +you the clue and explain the way to you, but you would get lost just +the same." + +"Come with me," said Beautrelet, laughing. + +"I can't. I have promised to go to my mother in the South." + +Beautrelet returned to the friend with whom he was staying and began +to make his preparations. But, late in the day, as he was getting +ready to go, he received a visit from Valmeras. + +"Do you still want me?" + +"Rather!" + +"Well, I'm coming with you. Yes, the expedition fascinates me. I +think it will be very amusing and I like being mixed up in this sort +of thing.--Besides, my help will be of use to you. Look, here's +something to start with." + +He held up a big key, all covered with rust and looking very old. + +"What does the key open?" asked Beautrelet. + +"A little postern hidden between two buttresses and left unused +since centuries ago. I did not even think of pointing it out to my +tenant. It opens straight on the country, just at the verge of the +wood." + +Beautrelet interrupted him quickly: + +"They know all about that outlet. It was obviously by this way that +the man whom I followed entered the park. Come, it's fine game and +we shall win it. But, by Jupiter, we must play our cards carefully!" + + * * * * * + +Two days later, a half-famished horse dragged a gipsy caravan into +Crozant. Its driver obtained leave to stable it at the end of the +village, in an old deserted cart-shed. In addition to the driver, +who was none other than Valmeras, there were three young men, who +occupied themselves in the manufacture of wicker-work chairs: +Beautrelet and two of his Janson friends. + +They stayed there for three days, waiting for a propitious, moonless +night and roaming singly round the outskirts of the park. Once +Beautrelet saw the postern. Contrived between two buttresses placed +very close together, it was almost merged, behind the screen of +brambles that concealed it, in the pattern formed by the stones of +the wall. + +At last, on the fourth evening, the sky was covered with heavy black +clouds and Valmeras decided that they should go reconnoitring, at +the risk of having to return again, should circumstances prove +unfavorable. + +All four crossed the little wood. Then Beautrelet crept through the +heather, scratched his hands at the bramble-hedge and, half raising +himself, slowly, with restrained movements, put the key into the +lock. He turned it gently. Would the door open without an effort? +Was there no bolt closing it on the other side? He pushed: the door +opened, without a creak or jolt. He was in the park. + +"Are you there, Beautrelet?" asked Valmeras. "Wait for me. You two +chaps, watch the door and keep our line of retreat open. At the +least alarm, whistle." + +He took Beautrelet's hand and they plunged into the dense shadow of +the thickets. A clearer space was revealed to them when they reached +the edge of the central lawn. At the same moment a ray of moonlight +pierced the clouds; and they saw the castle, with its pointed +turrets arranged around the tapering spire to which, no doubt, it +owed its name. There was no light in the windows; not a sound. + +Valmeras grasped his companion's arm: + +"Keep still!" + +"What is it?" + +"The dogs, over there--look--" + +There was a growl. Valmeras gave a low whistle. Two white forms +leapt forward and, in four bounds, came and crouched at their +master's feet. + +"Gently--lie down--that's it--good dogs--stay there." + +And he said to Beautrelet: + +"And now let us push on. I feel more comfortable." + +"Are you sure of the way?" + +"Yes. We are near the terrace." + +"And then?" + +"I remember that, on the left, at a place where the river terrace +rises to the level of the ground-floor windows, there is a shutter +which closes badly and which can be opened from the outside." + +They found, when they came to it, that the shutter yielded to +pressure. Valmeras removed a pane with a diamond which he carried. +He turned the window-latch. First one and then the other stepped +over the balcony. They were now in the castle, at the end of a +passage which divided the left wing into two. + +"This room," said Valmeras, "opens at the end of a passage. Then +comes an immense hall, lined with statues, and at the end of the +hall a staircase which ends near the room occupied by your father." + +He took a step forward. + +"Are you coming, Beautrelet?" + +"Yes, yes." + +"But no, you're not coming--What's the matter with you?" + +He seized him by the hand. It was icy cold and he perceived that the +young man was cowering on the floor. + +"What's the matter with you?" he repeated. + +"Nothing--it'll pass off--" + +"But what is it?" + +"I'm afraid--" + +"You're afraid?" + +"Yes," Beautrelet confessed, frankly, "it's my nerves giving way--I +generally manage to control them--but, to-day, the silence--the +excitement--And then, since I was stabbed by that magistrate's +clerk--But it will pass off--There, it's passing now--" + +He succeeded in rising to his feet and Valmeras dragged him out of +the room. They groped their way along the passage, so softly that +neither could hear a sound made by the other. + +A faint glimmer, however, seemed to light the hall for which they +were making. Valmeras put his head round the corner. It was a night- +light placed at the foot of the stairs, on a little table which +showed through the frail branches of a palm tree. + +"Halt!" whispered Valmeras. + +Near the night-light, a man stood sentry, carrying a gun. + +Had he seen them? Perhaps. At least, something must have alarmed +him, for he brought the gun to his shoulder. + +Beautrelet had fallen on his knees, against a tub containing a +plant, and he remained quite still, with his heart thumping against +his chest. + +Meanwhile, the silence and the absence of all movement reassured the +man. He lowered his weapon. But his head was still turned in the +direction of the tub. + +Terrible minutes passed: ten minutes, fifteen. A moonbeam had glided +through a window on the staircase. And, suddenly, Beautrelet became +aware that the moonbeam was shifting imperceptibly, and that, before +fifteen, before ten more minutes had elapsed, it would be shining +full in his face. + +Great drops of perspiration fell from his forehead on his trembling +hands. His anguish was such that he was on the point of getting up +and running away--But, remembering that Valmeras was there, he +sought him with his eyes and was astounded to see him, or rather to +imagine him, creeping in the dark, under cover of the statues and +plants. He was already at the foot of the stairs, within a few steps +of the man. + +What was he going to do? To pass in spite of all? To go upstairs +alone and release the prisoner? But could he pass? + +Beautrelet no longer saw him and he had an impression that something +was about to take place, something that seemed foreboded also by the +silence, which hung heavier, more awful than before. + +And, suddenly, a shadow springing upon the man, the night-light +extinguished, the sound of a struggle--Beautrelet ran up. The two +bodies had rolled over on the flagstones. He tried to stoop and see. +But he heard a hoarse moan, a sigh; and one of the adversaries rose +to his feet and seized him by the arm: + +"Quick!--Come along!" + +It was Valmeras. + +They went up two storys and came out at the entrance to a corridor, +covered by a hanging. + +"To the right," whispered Valmeras. "The fourth room on the left." + +They soon found the door of the room. As they expected, the captive +was locked in. It took them half an hour, half an hour of stifled +efforts, of muffled attempts, to force open the lock. The door +yielded at last. + +Beautrelet groped his way to the bed. His father was asleep. + +He woke him gently: + +"It's I--Isidore--and a friend--don't be afraid--get up--not a +word." + +The father dressed himself, but, as they were leaving the room, he +whispered: + +"I am not alone in the castle--" + +"Ah? Who else? Ganimard? Shears?" + +"No--at least, I have not seen them." + +"Who then?" + +"A young girl." + +"Mlle. de Saint-Veran, no doubt." + +"I don't know--I saw her several times at a distance, in the park-- +and, when I lean out of my window, I can see hers. She has made +signals to me." + +"Do you know which is her room?" + +"Yes, in this passage, the third on the right." + +"The blue room," murmured Valmeras. "It has folding doors: they +won't give us so much trouble." + +One of the two leaves very soon gave way. Old Beautrelet undertook +to tell the girl. + +Ten minutes later, he left the room with her and said to his son: + +"You were right--Mlle. de Saint-Veran--;" + +They all four went down the stairs. When they reached the bottom, +Valmeras stopped and bent over the man. Then, leading them to the +terrace-room: + +"He is not dead," he said. "He will live." + +"Ah!" said Beautrelet, with a sigh of relief. + +"No, fortunately, the blade of my knife bent: the blow is not fatal. +Besides, in any case, those rascals deserve no pity." + +Outside, they were met by the dogs, which accompanied them to the +postern. Here, Beautrelet found his two friends and the little band +left the park. It was three o'clock in the morning. + + * * * * * + +This first victory was not enough to satisfy Beautrelet. As soon as +he had comfortably settled his father and Mlle. de Saint-Veran, he +asked them about the people who lived at the castle, and, +particularly, about the habits of Arsene Lupin. He thus learnt that +Lupin came only every three or four days, arriving at night in his +motor car and leaving again in the morning. At each of his visits, +he called separately upon his two prisoners, both of whom agreed in +praising his courtesy and his extreme civility. For the moment, he +was not at the castle. + +Apart from him, they had seen no one except an old woman, who ruled +over the kitchen and the house, and two men, who kept watch over +them by turns and never spoke to them: subordinates, obviously, to +judge by their manners and appearance. + +"Two accomplices, for all that," said Beautrelet, in conclusion, "or +rather three, with the old woman. It is a bag worth having. And, if +we lose no time--" + +He jumped on his bicycle, rode to Eguzon, woke up the gendarmerie, +set them all going, made them sound the boot and saddle and returned +to Crozant at eight o'clock, accompanied by the sergeant and eight +gendarmes. Two of the men were posted beside the gipsy-van. Two +others took up their positions outside the postern-door. The last +four, commanded by their chief and accompanied by Beautrelet and +Valmeras, marched to the main entrance of the castle. + +Too late. The door was wide open. A peasant told them that he had +seen a motor car drive out of the castle an hour before. + +Indeed, the search led to no result. In all probability, the gang +had installed themselves there picnic fashion. A few clothes were +found, a little linen, some household implements; and that was all. + +What astonished Beautrelet and Valmeras more was the disappearance +of the wounded man. They could not see the faintest trace of a +struggle, not even a drop of blood on the flagstones of the hall. + +All said, there was no material evidence to prove the fleeting +presence of Lupin at the Chateau de l'Aiguille; and the authorities +would have been entitled to challenge the statements of Beautrelet +and his father, of Valmeras and Mlle. de Saint-Veran, had they not +ended by discovering, in a room next to that occupied by the young +girl, some half-dozen exquisite bouquets with Arsene Lupin's card +pinned to them, bouquets scorned by her, faded and forgotten--One of +them, in addition to the card, contained a letter which Raymonde had +not seen. That afternoon, when opened by the examining magistrate, +it was found to contain page upon page of prayers, entreaties, +promises, threats, despair, all the madness of a love that has +encountered nothing but contempt and repulsion. + +And the letter ended: + +I shall come on Tuesday evening, Raymonde. Reflect between now and +then. As for me, I will wait no longer. I am resolved on all. + + * * * * * + +Tuesday evening was the evening of the very day on which Beautrelet +had released Mlle. de Saint-Veran from her captivity. + +The reader will remember the extraordinary explosion of surprise and +enthusiasm that resounded throughout the world at the news of that +unexpected issue: Mlle. de Saint-Veran free! The pretty girl whom +Lupin coveted, to secure whom he had contrived his most +Machiavellian schemes, snatched from his claws! Free also +Beautrelet's father, whom Lupin had chosen as a hostage in his +extravagant longing for the armistice demanded by the needs of his +passion! They were both free, the two prisoners! And the secret of +the Hollow Needle was known, published, flung to the four corners of +the world! + +The crowd amused itself with a will. Ballads were sold and sung +about the defeated adventurer: Lupin's Little Love-Affairs!-- +Arsene's Piteous Sobs!--The Lovesick Burglar! The Pickpocket's +Lament!--They were cried on the boulevards and hummed in the +artists' studios. + +Raymonde, pressed with questions and pursued by interviewers, +replied with the most extreme reserve. But there was no denying the +letter, or the bouquets of flowers, or any part of the pitiful +story! Then and there, Lupin, scoffed and jeered at, toppled from +his pedestal. + +And Beautrelet became the popular idol. He had foretold everything, +thrown light on everything. The evidence which Mlle. de Saint-Veran +gave before the examining magistrate confirmed, down to the smallest +detail, the hypothesis imagined by Isidore. Reality seemed to +submit, in every point, to what he had decreed beforehand. Lupin had +found his master.-- + + * * * * * + +Beautrelet insisted that his father, before returning to his +mountains in Savoy, should take a few months' rest in the sunshine, +and himself escorted him and Mlle. de Saint-Veran to the outskirts +of Nice, where the Comte de Gesvres and his daughter Suzanne were +already settled for the winter. Two days later, Valmeras brought his +mother to see his new friends and they thus composed a little colony +grouped around the Villa de Gesvres and watched over day and night +by half a dozen men engaged by the comte. + +Early in October, Beautrelet, once more the sixth-form pupil, +returned to Paris to resume the interrupted course of his studies +and to prepare for his examinations. And life began again, calmer, +this time, and free from incident. What could happen, for that +matter. Was the war not over? + +Lupin, on his side, must have felt this very clearly, must have felt +that there was nothing left for him but to resign himself to the +accomplished fact; for, one fine day, his two other victims, +Ganimard and Holmlock Shears, made their reappearance. Their return +to the life of this planet, however, was devoid of any sort of +glamor or fascination. An itinerant rag-man picked them up on the +Quai des Orfevres, opposite the headquarters of police. Both of them +were gagged, bound and fast asleep. + +After a week of complete bewilderment, they succeeded in recovering +the control of their thought and told--or rather Ganimard told, for +Shears wrapped himself in a fierce and stubborn silence--how they +had made a voyage of circumnavigation round the coast of Africa on +board the yacht Hirondelle, a voyage combining amusement with +instruction, during which they could look upon themselves as free, +save for a few hours which they spent at the bottom of the hold, +while the crew went on shore at outlandish ports. + +As for their landing on the Quai des Orfevres, they remembered +nothing about it and had probably been asleep for many days before. + +This liberation of the prisoners was the final confession of defeat. +By ceasing to fight, Lupin admitted it without reserve. + +One incident, moreover, made it still more glaring, which was the +engagement of Louis Valmeras and Mlle. de Saint-Veran. In the +intimacy created between them by the new conditions under which they +lived, the two young people fell in love with each other. Valmeras +loved Raymonde's melancholy charm; and she, wounded by life, greedy +for protection, yielded before the strength and energy of the man +who had contributed so gallantly to her preservation. + +The wedding day was awaited with a certain amount of anxiety. Would +Lupin not try to resume the offensive? Would he accept with a good +grace the irretrievable loss of the woman he loved? Twice or three +times, suspicious-looking people were seen prowling round the villa; +and Valmeras even had to defend himself one evening against a so- +called drunken man, who fired a pistol at him and sent a bullet +through his hat. But, in the end, the ceremony was performed at the +appointed hour and day and Raymonde de Saint-Veran became Mme. Louis +Valmeras. + +It was as though Fate herself had taken sides with Beautrelet and +countersigned the news of victory. This was so apparent to the crowd +that his admirers now conceived the notion of entertaining him at a +banquet to celebrate his triumph and Lupin's overthrow. It was a +great idea and aroused general enthusiasm. Three hundred tickets +were sold in less than a fortnight. Invitations were issued to the +public schools of Paris, to send two sixth-form pupils apiece. The +press sang paeans. The banquet was what it could not fail to be, an +apotheosis. + +But it was a charming and simple apotheosis, because Beautrelet was +its hero. His presence was enough to bring things back to their due +proportion. He showed himself modest, as usual, a little surprised +at the excessive cheering, a little embarrassed by the extravagant +panegyrics in which he was pronounced greater than the most +illustrious detectives--a little embarrassed, but also not a little +touched. + +He said as much in a few words that pleased all his hearers and with +the shyness of a child that blushes when you look at it. He spoke of +his delight, of his pride. And really, reasonable and self- +controlled as he was, this was for him a moment of never-to-be- +forgotten exultation. He smiled to his friends, to his fellow- +Jansonians, to Valmeras, who had come specially to give him a cheer, +to M. de Gesvres, to his father. + +When he had finished speaking; and while he still held his glass in +his hand, a sound of voices came from the other end of the room and +some one was gesticulating and waving a newspaper. Silence was +restored and the importunate person sat down again: but a thrill of +curiosity ran round the table, the newspaper was passed from hand to +hand and, each time that one of the guests cast his eyes upon the +page at which it was opened, exclamations followed: + +"Read it! Read it!" they cried from the opposite side. + +The people were leaving their seats at the principal table. M. +Beautrelet went and took the paper and handed it to his son. + +"Read it out! Read it out!" they cried, louder. + +And others said: + +"Listen! He's going to read it! Listen!" + +Beautrelet stood facing his audience, looked in the evening paper +which his father had given him for the article that was causing all +this uproar and, suddenly, his eyes encountering a heading +underlined in blue pencil, he raised his hand to call for silence +and began in a loud voice to read a letter addressed to the editor +by M. Massiban, of the Academy of Inscriptions and Belles-Lettres. +His voice broke and fell, little by little, as he read those +stupefying revelations, which reduced all his efforts to nothing, +upset his notions concerning the Hollow Needle and proved the vanity +of his struggle with Arsene Lupin: + + * * * * * + +Sir: + +On the 17th of March, 1679, there appeared a little book with the +following title: The Mystery of the Hollow Needle. The Whole Truth +now first exhibited. One hundred copies printed by myself for the +instruction of the Court. + +At nine o'clock on the morning of that day, the author, a very young +man, well-dressed, whose name has remained unknown, began to leave +his book on the principal persons at court. At ten o'clock, when he +had fulfilled four of these errands, he was arrested by a captain in +the guards, who took him to the king's closet and forthwith set off +in search of the four copies distributed. + +When the hundred copies were got together, counted, carefully looked +through and verified, the king himself threw them into the fire and +burnt them, all but one, which he kept for his own purposes. + +Then he ordered the captain of the guards to take the author of the +book to M. de Saint-Mars, who confined his prisoner first at +Pignerol and then in the fortress of the Ile Sainte-Marguerite. This +man was obviously no other than the famous Man with the Iron Mask. + +The truth would never have been known, or at least a part of the +truth, if the captain in the guards had not been present at the +interview and if, when the king's back was turned, he had not been +tempted to withdraw another of the copies from the chimney, before +the fire got to it. + +Six months later, the captain was found dead on the highroad between +Gaillon and Mantes. His murderers had stripped him of all his +apparel, forgetting, however, in his right boot a jewel which was +discovered there afterward, a diamond of the first water and of +considerable value. + +Among his papers was found a sheet in his handwriting, in which he +did not speak of the book snatched from the flames, but gave a +summary of the earlier chapters. It referred to a secret which was +known to the Kings of England, which was lost by them when the crown +passed from the poor fool, Henry VI., to the Duke of York, which was +revealed to Charles VII., King of France, by Joan of Arc and which, +becoming a State secret, was handed down from sovereign to sovereign +by means of a letter, sealed anew on each occasion, which was found +in the deceased monarch's death-bed with this superscription: "For +the King of France." + +This secret concerned the existence and described the whereabouts of +a tremendous treasure, belonging to the kings, which increased in +dimensions from century to century. + +One hundred and fourteen years later, Louis XVI., then a prisoner in +the Temple, took aside one of the officers whose duty it was to +guard the royal family, and asked: + +"Monsieur, had you not an ancestor who served as a captain under my +predecessor, the Great King?" + +"Yes, sire." + +"Well, could you be relied upon--could you be relied upon--" + +He hesitated. The officer completed the sentence: + +"Not to betray your Majesty! Oh, sire!--" + +"Then listen to me." + +He took from his pocket a little book of which he tore out one of +the last pages. But, altering his mind: + +"No, I had better copy it--" + +He seized a large sheet of paper and tore it in such a way as to +leave only a small rectangular space, on which he copied five lines +of dots, letters and figures from the printed page. Then, after +burning the latter, he folded the manuscript sheet in four, sealed +it with red wax, and gave it to the officer. + +"Monsieur, after my death, you must hand this to the Queen and say +to her, 'From the King, madame--for Your Majesty and for your son.' +If she does not understand--" + +"If she does not understand, sire--" + +"You must add, 'It concerns the secret, the secret of the Needle.' +The Queen will understand." + +When he had finished speaking, he flung the book into the embers +glowing on the hearth. + +He ascended the scaffold on the 21st of January. + +It took the officer several months, in consequence of the removal of +the Queen to the Conciergerie, before he could fulfil the mission +with which he was entrusted. At last, by dint of cunning intrigues, +he succeeded, one day, in finding himself in the presence of Marie +Antoinette. + +Speaking so that she could just hear him, he said: + +"Madame, from the late King, your husband, for Your Majesty and your +son." + +And he gave her the sealed letter. + +She satisfied herself that the jailers could not see her, broke the +seals, appeared surprised at the sight of those undecipherable lines +and then, all at once, seemed to understand. + +She smiled bitterly and the officer caught the words: + +"Why so late?" + +She hesitated. Where should she hide this dangerous document? At +last, she opened her book of hours and slipped the paper into a sort +of secret pocket contrived between the leather of the binding and +the parchment that covered it. + +"Why so late?" she had asked. + +It is, in fact, probable that this document, if it could have saved +her, came too late, for, in the month of October next, Queen Marie +Antoinette ascended the scaffold in her turn. + +Now the officer, when going through his family papers, came upon his +ancestor's manuscript. From that moment, he had but one idea, which +was to devote his leisure to elucidating this strange problem. He +read all the Latin authors, studied all the chronicles of France and +those of the neighboring countries, visited the monasteries, +deciphered account-books, cartularies, treaties; and, in this way, +succeeded in discovering certain references scattered over the ages. + +In Book III of Caesar's Commentaries on the Gallic War (MS. edition, +Alexandria), it is stated that, after the defeat of Veridovix by G. +Titullius Sabinus, the chief of the Caleti was brought before Caesar +and that, for his ransom, he revealed the secret of the Needle-- + +The Treaty of Saint-Clair-sur-Epte, between Charles the Simple and +Rollo, the chief of the Norse barbarians, gives Rollo's name +followed by all his titles, among which we read that of Master of +the Secret of the Needle. + +The Saxon Chronicle (Gibson's edition, page 134), speaking of +William the Conqueror, says that the staff of his banner ended in a +steel point pierced with an eye, like a needle. + +In a rather ambiguous phrase in her examination, Joan of Arc admits +that she has still a great secret to tell the King of France. To +which her judges reply, "Yes, we know of what you speak; and that, +Joan, is why you shall die the death." + +Philippe de Comines mentions it in connection with Louis XI., and, +later, Sully in connection with Henry IV.: "By the virtue of the +Needle!" the good king sometimes swears. + +Between these two, Francis I., in a speech addressed to the notables +of the Havre, in 1520, uttered this phrase, which has been handed +down in the diary of a Honfleur burgess; "The Kings of France carry +secrets that often decide the conduct of affairs and the fate of +towns." + +All these quotations, all the stories relating to the Iron Mask, the +captain of the guards and his descendant, I have found to-day in a +pamphlet written by this same descendant and published in the month +of June, 1815, just before or just after the battle of Waterloo, in +a period, therefore, of great upheavals, in which the revelations +which it contained were likely to pass unperceived. + +What is the value of this pamphlet? Nothing, you will tell me, and +we must attach no credit to it. And this is the impression which I +myself would have carried away, if it had not occurred to me to open +Caesar's Commentaries at the chapter given. What was my astonishment +when I came upon the phrase quoted in the little book before me! And +it was the same thing with the Treaty of Saint-Clair-sur-Epte, with +the Saxon Chronicle, with the examination of Joan of Arc, in short, +with all that I have been able to verify up to the present. + +Lastly, there is an even more precise fact related by the author of +the pamphlet of 1815. During the French campaign, he being then an +officer under Napoleon, his horse dropped dead, one evening, and he +rang at the door of a castle where he was received by an old knight +of St. Louis. And, in the course of conversation with the old man, +he learnt that this castle, standing on the bank of the Creuse, was +called the Chateau de l'Aiguille, that it had been built and +christened by Louis XIV., and that, by his express order, it was +adorned with turrets and with a spire which represented the Needle. +As its date it bore, it must still bear, the figure 1680. + +1680! One year after the publication of the book and the +imprisonment of the Iron Mask! Everything was now explained: Louis +XIV., foreseeing that the secret might be noised abroad, had built +and named that castle so as to offer the quidnuncs a natural +explanation of the ancient mystery. The Hollow Needle! A castle with +pointed bell-turrets standing on the bank of the Creuse and +belonging to the King. People would at once think that they had the +key to the riddle and all enquiries would cease. + +The calculation was just, seeing that, more than two centuries +later, M. Beautrelet fell into the trap. And this, Sir, is what I +was leading up to in writing this letter. If Lupin, under the name +of Anfredi, rented from M. Valmeras the Chateau de l'Aiguille on the +bank of the Creuse; if, admitting the success of the inevitable +investigations of M. Beautrelet, he lodged his two prisoners there, +it was because he admitted the success of the inevitable researches +made by M. Beautrelet and because, with the object of obtaining the +peace for which he had asked, he laid for M. Beautrelet precisely +what we may call the historic trap of Louis XIV. + +And hence we come to this undeniable conclusion, that he, Lupin, by +his unaided lights, without possessing any other facts than those +which we possess, managed by means of the witchcraft of a really +extraordinary genius, to decipher the undecipherable document; and +that he, Lupin, the last heir of the Kings of France, knows the +royal mystery of the Hollow Needle! + + * * * * * + +Here ended the letter. But, for some minutes, from the passage that +referred to the Chateau de l'Aiguille onward, it was not +Beautrelet's but another voice that read it aloud. Realizing his +defeat, crushed under the weight of his humiliation, Isidore had +dropped the newspaper and sunk into his chair, with his face buried +in his hands. + +Panting, shaken with excitement by this incredible story, the crowd +had come gradually nearer and was now pressing round. + +With a thrill of anguish, they waited for the words which he would +say in reply, the objections which he would raise. + +He did not stir. + +Valmeras gently uncrossed his hands and raised his head. + +Isidore Beautrelet was weeping. + + + + +CHAPTER SEVEN + +THE TREATISE OF THE NEEDLE + + +It is four o'clock in the morning. Isidore has not returned to the +Lycee Janson. He has no intention of returning before the end of the +war of extermination which he has declared against Lupin. This much +he swore to himself under his breath, while his friends drove off +with him, all faint and bruised, in a cab. + +A mad oath! An absurd and illogical war! What can he do, a single, +unarmed stripling, against that phenomenon of energy and strength? +On which side is he to attack him? He is unassailable. Where to +wound him? He is invulnerable. Where to get at him? He is +inaccessible. + +Four o'clock in the morning. Isidore has again accepted his +schoolfellow's hospitality. Standing before the chimney in his +bedroom, with his elbows flat on the mantel-shelf and his two fists +under his chin, he stares at his image in the looking-glass. He is +not crying now, he can shed no more tears, nor fling himself about +on his bed, nor give way to despair, as he has been doing for the +last two hours and more. He wants to think, to think and understand. + +And he does not remove his eyes from those same eyes reflected in +the glass, as though he hoped to double his powers of thought by +contemplating his pensive image, as though he hoped to find at the +back of that mirrored Beautrelet the unsolvable solution of what he +does not find within himself. + +He stands thus until six o'clock, and, little by little, the +question presents itself to his mind with the strictness of an +equation, bare and dry and cleared of all the details that +complicate and obscure it. + +Yes, he has made a mistake. Yes, his reading of the document is all +wrong. The word aiguille does not point to the castle on the Creuse. +Also, the word demoiselles cannot be applied to Raymonde de Saint- +Veran and her cousin, because the text of the document dates back +for centuries. + +Therefore, all must be done over again, from the beginning. + +How? + +One piece of evidence alone would be incontestible: the book +published under Louis XIV. Now of those hundred copies printed by +the person who was presumed to be the Man with the Iron Mask only +two escaped the flames. One was purloined by the captain of the +guards and lost. The other was kept by Louis XIV., handed down to +Louis XV., and burnt by Louis XVI. But a copy of the essential page, +the page containing the solution of the problem, or at least a +cryptographic solution, was conveyed to Marie Antoinette, who +slipped it into the binding of her book of hours. What has become of +this paper? Is it the one which Beautrelet has held in his hands and +which Lupin recovered from him through Bredoux, the magistrate's +clerk? Or is it still in Marie Antoinette's book of hours? And the +question resolves itself into this: what has become of the Queen's +book of hours? + + * * * * * + +After taking a short rest, Beautrelet consulted his friend's father, +an old and experienced collector, who was often called upon +officially to give an expert opinion and who had quite lately been +invited to advise the director of one of our museums on the drawing +up of the catalogue. + +"Marie Antoinette's book of hours?" he exclaimed. "Why, the Queen +left it to her waiting-woman, with secret instructions to forward it +to Count Fersen. After being piously preserved in the count's +family, it has been, for the last five years, in a glass case--" + +"A glass case?" + +"In the Musee Carnavalet, quite simply." + +"When will the museum be open?" + +"At twenty minutes from now, as it is every morning." + + * * * * * + +Isidore and his friend jumped out of a cab at the moment when the +doors of Madame de Sevigne's old mansion were opening. + +"Hullo! M. Beautrelet!" + +A dozen voices greeted his arrival. To his great surprise, he +recognized the whole crowd of reporters who were following up "the +mystery of the Hollow Needle." And one of them exclaimed: + +"Funny, isn't it, that we should all have had the same idea? Take +care, Arsene Lupin may be among us!" + +They entered the museum together. The director was at once informed, +placed himself entirely at their disposal, took them to the glass +case and skewed them a poor little volume, devoid of all ornament, +which certainly had nothing royal about it. Nevertheless, they were +overcome by a certain emotion at the sight of this object which the +Queen had touched in those tragic days, which her eyes, red with +tears, had looked upon--And they dared not take it and hunt through +it: it was as though they feared lest they should be guilty of a +sacrilege-- + +"Come, M. Beautrelet, it's your business!" + +He took the book with an anxious gesture. The description +corresponded with that given by the author of the pamphlet. Outside +was a parchment cover, dirty, stained and worn in places, and under +it, the real binding, in stiff leather. With what a thrill +Beautrelet felt for the hidden pocket! Was it a fairy tale? Or would +he find the document written by Louis XVI. and bequeathed by the +queen to her fervent admirer? + +At the first page, on the upper side of the book, there was no +receptacle. + +"Nothing," he muttered. + +"Nothing," they echoed, palpitating with excitement. + +But, at the last page, forcing back the book a little, he at once +saw that the parchment was not stuck to the binding. He slipped his +fingers in between--there was something--yes, he felt something--a +paper-- + +"Oh!" he gasped, in an accent almost of pain. "Here--is it +possible?" + +"Quick, quick!" they cried. "What are you waiting for?" + +He drew out a sheet folded in two. + +"Well, read it!--There are words in red ink--Look!--it might be +blood--pale, faded blood--Read it!--" + + * * * * * + +He read: + +To you, Fersen. For my son. 16 October, 1793. + +MARIE ANTOINETTE. + + * * * * * + +And suddenly Beautrelet gave a cry of stupefaction. Under the +queen's signature there were--there were two words, in black ink, +underlined with a flourish--two words: + +ARSENE LUPIN. + +All, in turns, took the sheet of paper and the same cry escaped from +the lips of all of them: + +"Marie Antoinette!--Arsene Lupin!" + +A great silence followed. That double signature: those two names +coupled together, discovered hidden in the book of hours; that relic +in which the poor queen's desperate appeal had slumbered for more +than a century: that horrible date of the 16th of October, 1793, the +day on which the Royal head fell: all of this was most dismally and +disconcertingly tragic. + +"Arsene Lupin!" stammered one of the voices, thus emphasizing the +scare that underlay the sight of that demoniacal name at the foot of +the hallowed page. + +"Yes, Arsene Lupin," repeated Beautrelet. "The Queen's friend was +unable to understand her desperate dying appeal. He lived with the +keepsake in his possession which the woman whom he loved had sent +him and he never guessed the reason of that keepsake. Lupin +discovered everything, on the other hand--and took it." + +"Took what?" + +"The document, of course! The document written by Louis XVI.; and it +is that which I held in my hands. The same appearance, the same +shape, the same red seals. I understand why Lupin would not leave me +a document which I could turn to account by merely examining the +paper, the seals and so on." + +"And then?" + +"Well, then, since the document is genuine, since I have, with my +own eyes, seen the marks of the red seals, since Marie Antoinette +herself assures me, by these few words in her hand, that the whole +story of the pamphlet, as printed by M. Massiban, is correct, +because a problem of the Hollow Needle really exists, I am now +certain to succeed." + +"But how? Whether genuine or not, the document is of no use to you +if you do not manage to decipher it, because Louis XVI. destroyed +the book that gave the explanation." + +"Yes, but the other copy, which King Louis XVI.'s captain of the +guards snatched from the flames, was not destroyed." + +"How do you know?" + +"Prove the contrary." + +After uttering this defiance, Beautrelet was silent for a time and +then, slowly, with his eyes closed, as though trying to fix and sum +up his thoughts, he said: + +"Possessing the secret, the captain of the guards begins by +revealing it bit by bit in the journal found by his descendant. Then +comes silence. The answer to the riddle is withheld. Why? Because +the temptation to make use of the secret creeps over him little by +little and he gives way to it. A proof? His murder. A further proof? +The magnificent jewel found upon him, which he must undoubtedly have +taken from some royal treasure the hiding-place of which, unknown to +all, would just constitute the mystery of the Hollow Needle. Lupin +conveyed as much to me; Lupin was not lying." + +"Then what conclusion do you draw, Beautrelet?" + +"I draw this conclusion, my friends, that it be a good thing to +advertise this story as much as possible, so that people may know, +through all the papers, that we are looking for a book entitled The +Treatise of the Needle. It may be fished out from the back shelves +of some provincial library." + +The paragraph was drawn up forthwith; and Beautrelet set to work at +once, without even waiting for it to produce a result. A first scent +suggested itself: the murder was committed near Gaillon. He went +there that same day. Certainly, he did not hope to reconstruct a +crime perpetrated two hundred years ago. But, all the same, there +are crimes that leave traces in the memories, in the traditions of a +countryside. They are recorded in the local chronicles. One day, +some provincial archaeologist, some lover of old legends, some +student of the minor incidents of the life of the past makes them +the subject of an article in a newspaper or of a communication to +the academy of his departmental town. + +Beautreiet saw three or four of these archaeologists. With one of +them in particular, an old notary, he examined the prison records, +the ledgers of the old bailiwicks and the parish registers. There +was no entry referring to the murder of a captain of the guards in +the seventeenth century. + +He refused to be discouraged and continued his search in Paris, +where the magistrate's examination might have taken place. His +efforts came to nothing. + +But the thought of another track sent him off in a fresh direction. +Was there no chance of finding out the name of that captain whose +descendant served in the armies of the Republic and was quartered in +the Temple during the imprisonment of the Royal family? By dint of +patient working, he ended by making out a list in which two names at +least presented an almost complete resemblance: M. de Larbeyrie, +under Louis XIV., and Citizen Larbrie, under the Terror. + +This already was an important point. He stated it with precision in +a note which he sent to the papers, asking for any information +concerning this Larbeyrie or his descendants. + +It was M. Massiban, the Massiban of the pamphlet, the member of the +Institute, who replied to him: + + * * * * * + +SIR: + +Allow me to call your attention to the following passage of +Voltaire, which I came upon in his manuscript of Le Siecle de Louis +XIV. (Chapter XXV: Particularites et anecdotes du regne). The +passage has been suppressed in all the printed editions: + +"I have heard it said by the late M. de Caumartin, intendant of +finance, who was a friend of Chamillard the minister, that the King +one day left hurriedly in his carriage at the news that M. de +Larbeyrie had been murdered and robbed of some magnificent jewels. +He seemed greatly excited and repeated: + +"'All is lost--all is lost--' + +"In the following year, the son of this Larbeyrie and his daughter, +who had married the Marquis de Velines, were banished to their +estates in Provence and Brittany. We cannot doubt that there is +something peculiar in this." + + +I, in my turn, will add that we can doubt it all the less inasmuch +as M. de Chamillard, according to Voltaire, WAS THE LAST MINISTER +WHO POSSESSED THE STRANGE SECRET OF THE IRON MASK. + +You will see for yourself, Sir, the profit that can be derived from +this passage and the evident link established between the two +adventures. As for myself, I will not venture to imagine any very +exact surmise as regards the conduct, the suspicions, and the +apprehensions of Louis XIV. in these circumstances; but, on the +other hand, seeing that M. de Larbeyrie left a son, who was probably +the grandfather of Larbrie the citizen-officer, and also a daughter, +is it not permissible to suppose that a part of the papers left by +Larbeyrie came to the daughter and that among these papers was the +famous copy which the captain of the guards saved from the flames? + +I have consulted the Country-house Year-book. There is a Baron de +Velines living not far from Rennes. Could he be a descendant of the +marquis? At any rate, I wrote to him yesterday, on chance, to ask if +he had not in his possession a little old book bearing on its title- +page the word aiguille; and I am awaiting his reply. + +It would give me the greatest pleasure to talk of all these matters +with you. If you can spare the time, come and see me. + +I am, Sir, etc., etc. + +P.S.--Of course, I shall not communicate these little discoveries to +the press. Now that you are near the goal, discretion is essential. + + * * * * * + +Beautrelet absolutely agreed. He even went further: to two +journalists who were worrying him that morning he gave the most +fanciful particulars as to his plans and his state of mind. + +In the afternoon, he hurried round to see Massiban, who lived at 17, +Quai Voltaire. To his great surprise, he was told that M. Massiban +had gone out of town unexpectedly, leaving a note for him in case he +should call. Isidore opened it and read: + + I have received a telegram which gives me + some hope. So I am leaving town and shall sleep + at Rennes. You might take the evening train and, + without stopping at Rennes, go on to the little + station of Velines. We would meet at the castle, + which is two miles and a half from the station. + +The programme appealed to Beautrelet, and especially the idea that +he would reach the castle at almost the same time as Massiban, for +he feared some blunder on the part of that inexperienced man. He +went back to his friend and spent the rest of the day with him. In +the evening, he took the Brittany express and got out at Velines as +six o'clock in the morning. + +He did the two and a half miles, between bushy woods, on foot. He +could see the castle, perched on a height, from a distance: it was a +hybrid edifice, a mixture of the Renascence and Louis Philippe +styles, but it bore a stately air, nevertheless, with its four +turrets and its ivy-mantled draw-bridge. + +Isidore felt his heart beat as he approached. Was he really nearing +the end of his race? Did the castle contain the key to the mystery? + +He was not without fear. It all seemed too good to be true; and he +asked himself if he was not once more acting in obedience to some +infernal plan contrived by Lupin, if Massiban was not for instance, +a tool in the hands of his enemy. He burst out laughing: + +"Tut, tut, I'm becoming absurd! One would really think that Lupin +was an infallible person who foresees everything, a sort of divine +omnipotence against whom nothing can prevail! Dash it all, Lupin +makes his mistakes; Lupin, too, is at the mercy of circumstances; +Lupin has an occasional slip! And it is just because of his slip in +losing the document that I am beginning to have the advantage of +him. Everything starts from that. And his efforts, when all is said, +serve only to repair the first blunder." + +And blithely, full of confidence, Beautrelet rang the bell. + +"Yes, sir?" said the servant who opened the door. + +"Can I see the Baron de Velines?" + +And he gave the man his card. + +"Monsieur le baron is not up yet, but, if monsieur will wait--" + +"Has not some one else been asking for him, a gentleman with a white +beard and a slight stoop?" asked Beautrelet, who knew Massiban's +appearance from the photographs in the newspapers. + +"Yes, the gentleman came about ten minutes ago; I showed him into +the drawing room. If monsieur will come this way--" + +The interview between Massiban and Beautrelet was of the most +cordial character. Isidore thanked the old man for the first-rate +information which he owed to him and Massiban expressed his +admiration for Beautrelet in the warmest terms. Then they exchanged +impressions on the document, on their prospects of discovering the +book; and Massiban repeated what he had heard at Rennes regarding M. +de Velines. The baron was a man of sixty, who had been left a +widower many years ago and who led a very retired life with his +daughter, Gabrielle de Villemon. This lady had just suffered a cruel +blow through the loss of her husband and her eldest son, both of +whom had died as the result of a motor-car accident. + +"Monsieur le baron begs the gentlemen to be good enough to come +upstairs." + +The servant led the way to the first floor, to a large, bare-walled +room, very simply furnished with desks, pigeon-holes and tables +covered with papers and account-books. + +The baron received them very affably and with the volubility often +displayed by people who live too much alone. They had great +difficulty in explaining the object of their visit. + +"Oh, yes, I know, you wrote to me about it, M. Massiban. It has +something to do with a book about a needle, hasn't it, a book which +is supposed to have come down to me from my ancestors?" + +"Just so." + +"I may as well tell you that my ancestors and I have fallen out. +They had funny ideas in those days. I belong to my own time. I have +broken with the past." + +"Yes," said Beautrelet, impatiently, "but have you no recollection +of having seen the book?--" + +"Certainly, I said so in my telegram," he exclaimed, addressing M. +Massiban, who, in his annoyance, was walking up and down the room +and looking out of the tall windows. "Certainly--or, at least, my +daughter thought she had seen the title among the thousands of books +that lumber up the library, upstairs--for I don't care about reading +myself--I don't even read the papers. My daughter does, sometimes, +but only when there is nothing the matter with Georges, her +remaining son! As for me, as long as my tenants pay their rents and +my leases are kept up--! You see my account-books: I live in them, +gentlemen; and I confess that I know absolutely nothing whatever +about that story of which you wrote to me in your letter, M. +Massiban--" + +Isidore Beautrelet, nerve-shattered at all this talk, interrupted +him bluntly: + +"I beg your pardon, monsieur, but the book--" + +"My daughter has looked for it. She looked for it all day +yesterday." + +"Well?" + +"Well, she found it; she found it a few hours ago. When you +arrived--" + +"And where is it?" + +"Where is it? Why, she put it on that table--there it is--over +there--" + +Isidore gave a bound. At one end of the table, on a muddled heap of +papers, lay a little book bound in red morocco. He banged his fist +down upon it, as though he were forbidding anybody to touch it--and +also a little as though he himself dared not take it up. + +"Well!" cried Massiban, greatly excited. + +"I have it--here it is--we're there at last!" + +"But the title--are you sure?--" + +"Why, of course: look!" + +"Are you convinced? Have we mastered the secret at last?" + +"The front page--what does the front page say?" + +"Read: The Whole Truth now first exhibited. One hundred copies +printed by myself for the instruction of the Court." + +"That's it, that's it," muttered Massiban, in a hoarse voice. "It's +the copy snatched from the flames! It's the very book which Louis +XIV. condemned." + +They turned over the pages. The first part set forth the +explanations given by Captain de Larbeyrie in his journal. + +"Get on, get on!" said Beautrelet, who was in a hurry to come to the +solution. + +"Get on? What do you mean? Not at all! We know that the Man with the +Iron Mask was imprisoned because he knew and wished to divulge the +secret of the Royal house of France. But how did he know it? And why +did he wish to divulge it? Lastly, who was that strange personage? A +half-brother of Louis XIV., as Voltaire maintained, or Mattioli, the +Italian minister, as the modern critics declare? Hang it, those are +questions of the very first interest!" + +"Later, later," protested Beautrelet, feverishly turning the pages, +as though he feared that the book would fly out of his hands before +he had solved the riddle. + +"But--" said Massiban, who doted on historical details. + +"We have plenty of time--afterward--let's see the explanation first--" + +Suddenly Beautrelet stopped. The document! In the middle of a left- +hand page, his eyes saw the five mysterious lines of dots and +figures! He made sure, with a glance, that the text was identical +with that which he had studied so long; the same arrangement of the +signs, the same intervals that permitted of the isolation of the +word demoiselles and the separation of the two words aiguille and +creuse. + +A short note preceded it: + +All the necessary indications, it appears, were reduced by King +Louis XIII. into a little table which I transcribe below. + +Here followed the table of dots and figures. + +Then came the explanation of the document itself. Beautrelet read, +in a broken voice: + + * * * * * + +As will be seen, this table, even after we have changed the figures +into vowels, affords no light. One might say that, in order to +decipher the puzzle, we must first know it. It is, at most, a clue +given to those who know the paths of the labyrinth. + +Let us take this clue and proceed. I will guide you. + +The fourth line first. The fourth line contains measurements and +indications. By complying with the indications and noting the +measurements set down, we inevitably attain our object, on +condition, be it understood, that we know where we are and whither +we are going, in a word, that we are enlightened as to the real +meaning of the Hollow Needle. This is what we may learn from the +first three lines. The first is so conceived to revenge myself on +the King; I had warned him, for that matter-- + + * * * * * + +Beautrelet stopped, nonplussed. + +"What? What is it?" said Massiban. + +"The words don't make sense." + +"No more they do," replied Massiban. "'The first is so conceived to +revenge myself on the King--' What can that mean?" + +"Damn!" yelled Beautrelet. + +"Well?" + +"Torn! Two pages! The next two pages! Look at the marks!" + +He trembled, shaking with rage and disappointment. Massiban bent +forward. + +"It is true--there are the ends of two pages left, like bookbinders' +guards. The marks seem pretty fresh. They've not been cut, but torn +out--torn out with violence. Look, all the pages at the end of the +book have been rumpled." + +"But who can have done it? Who?" moaned Isidore, wringing his hands. +"A servant? An accomplice?" + +"All the same, it may date back to a few months since," observed +Massiban. + +"Even so--even so--some one must have hunted out and taken the book +--Tell me, monsieur," cried Beautrelet, addressing the baron, "is +there no one whom you suspect?" + +"We might ask my daughter." + +"Yes--yes--that's it--perhaps she will know." + +M. de Velines rang for the footman. A few minutes later, Mme. de +Villemon entered. She was a young woman, with a sad and resigned +face. Beautrelet at once asked her: + +"You found this volume upstairs, madame, in the library?" + +"Yes, in a parcel of books that had not been uncorded." + +"And you read it?" + +"Yes, last night." + +"When you read it, were those two pages missing? Try and remember: +the two pages following this table of figures and dots?" + +"No, certainly not," she said, greatly astonished. "There was no +page missing at all." + +"Still, somebody has torn--" + +"But the book did not leave my room last night." + +"And this morning?" + +"This morning, I brought it down here myself, when M. Massiban's +arrival was announced." + +"Then--?" + +"Well, I don't understand--unless--but no." + +"What?" + +"Georges--my son--this morning--Georges was playing with the book." + +She ran out headlong, accompanied by Beautrelet, Massiban and the +baron. The child was not in his room. They hunted in every +direction. At last, they found him playing behind the castle. But +those three people seemed so excited and called him so peremptorily +to account that he began to yell aloud. + +Everybody ran about to right and left. The servants were questioned. +It was an indescribable tumult. And Beautrelet received the awful +impression that the truth was ebbing away from him, like water +trickling through his fingers. + +He made an effort to recover himself, took Mme. de Villemon's arm, +and, followed by the baron and Massiban, led her back to the drawing +room and said: + +"The book is incomplete. Very well. There are two pages torn out; +but you read them, did you not, madame?" + +"Yes." + +"You know what they contained?" + +"Yes." + +"Could you repeat it to us?" + +"Certainly. I read the book with a great deal of curiosity, but +those two pages struck me in particular because the revelations were +so very interesting." + +"Well, then, speak madame, speak, I implore you! Those revelations +are of exceptional importance. Speak, I beg of you: minutes lost are +never recovered. The Hollow Needle--" + +"Oh, it's quite simple. The Hollow Needle means--" + +At that moment, a footman entered the room: + +"A letter for madame." + +"Oh, but the postman has passed!" + +"A boy brought it." + +Mme. de Villemon opened the letter, read it, and put her hand to her +heart, turning suddenly livid and terrified, ready to faint. + +The paper had slipped to the floor. Beautrelet picked it up and, +without troubling to apologize, read: + + Not a word! If you say a word, your son will + never wake again. + +"My son--my son!" she stammered, too weak even to go to the +assistance of the threatened child. + +Beautrelet reassured her: + +"It is not serious--it's a joke. Come, who could be interested?" + +"Unless," suggested Massiban, "it was Arsene Lupin." + +Beautrelet made him a sign to hold his tongue. He knew quite well, +of course, that the enemy was there, once more, watchful and +determined; and that was just why he wanted to tear from Mme. de +Villemon the decisive words, so long awaited, and to tear them from +her on the spot, that very moment: + +"I beseech you, madame, compose yourself. We are all here. There is +not the least danger." + +Would she speak? He thought so, he hoped so. She stammered out a few +syllables. But the door opened again. This time, the nurse entered. +She seemed distraught: + +"M. Georges--madame--M. Georges--!" + +Suddenly, the mother recovered all her strength. Quicker than any of +them, and urged by an unfailing instinct, she rushed down the +staircase, across the hall and on to the terrace. There lay little +Georges, motionless, on a wicker chair. + +"Well, what is it? He's asleep!--" + +"He fell asleep suddenly, madame," said the nurse. "I tried to +prevent him, to carry him to his room. But he was fast asleep and +his hands--his hands were cold." + +"Cold!" gasped the mother. "Yes--it's true. Oh dear, oh dear--IF HE +ONLY WAKES UP!" + +Beautrelet put his hand in his trousers pocket, seized the butt of +his revolver, cocked it with his forefinger, then suddenly produced +the weapon and fired at Massiban. + +Massiban, as though he were watching the boy's movements, had +avoided the shot, so to speak, in advance. But already Beautrelet +had sprung upon him, shouting to the servants: + +"Help! It's Lupin!" + +Massiban, under the weight of the impact, fell back into one of the +wicker chairs. In a few seconds, he rose, leaving Beautrelet +stunned, choking; and, holding the young man's revolver in his +hands: + +"Good!--that's all right!--don't stir--you'll be like that for two +or three minutes--no more. But, upon my word, you took your time to +recognize me! Was my make-up as old Massiban so good as all that?" + +He was now standing straight up on his legs, his body squared, in a +formidable attitude, and he grinned as he looked at the three +petrified footmen and the dumbfounded baron: + +"Isidore, you've missed the chance of a lifetime. If you hadn't told +them I was Lupin, they'd have jumped on me. And, with fellows like +that, what would have become of me, by Jove, with four to one +against me?" + +He walked up to them: + +"Come, my lads, don't be afraid--I shan't hurt you. Wouldn't you +like a sugar-stick apiece to screw your courage up? Oh, you, by the +way, hand me back my hundred-franc note, will you? Yes, yes, I know +you! You're the one I bribed just now to give the letter to your +mistress. Come hurry, you faithless servant." + +He took the blue bank-note which the servant handed him and tore it +into tiny shreds: + +"The price of treachery! It burns my fingers." + +He took off his hat and, bowing very low before Mme. de Villemon: + +"Will you forgive me, madame? The accidents of life--of mine +especially--often drive one to acts of cruelty for which I am the +first to blush. But have no fear for your son: it's a mere prick, a +little puncture in the arm which I gave him while we were +questioning him. In an hour, at the most, you won't know that it +happened. Once more, all my apologies. But I had to make sure of +your silence." He bowed again, thanked M. de Velines for his kind +hospitality, took his cane, lit a cigarette, offered one to the +baron, gave a circular sweep with his hat and, in a patronizing +tone, said to Beautrelet: + +"Good-bye, baby." + +And he walked away quietly, puffing the smoke of his cigarette into +the servants' faces. + +Beautrelet waited for a few minutes. Mme. de Villemon, now calmer, +was watching by her son. He went up to her, with the intention of +making one last appeal to her. Their eyes met. He said nothing. He +had understood that she would never speak now, whatever happened. +There, once more, in that mother's brain, the secret of the Hollow +Needle lay buried as deeply as in the night of the past. + +Then he gave up and went away. + +It was half-past ten. There was a train at eleven-fifty. He slowly +followed the avenue in the park and turned into the road that led to +the station. + +"Well, what do you say to that?" + +It was Massiban, or rather Lupin, who appeared out of the wood +adjoining the road. + +"Was it pretty well contrived, or was it not? Is your old friend +great on the tight-rope, or is he not? I'm sure that you haven't got +over it, eh, and that you're asking yourself whether the so-called +Massiban, member of the Academy of Inscriptions and Belles-Lettres, +ever existed. But, of course, he exists. I'll even show him to you, +if you're good. But, first, let me give you back your revolver. +You're looking to see if it's loaded? Certainly, my lad. There are +five charges left, one of which would be enough to send me ad +patres.--Well, so you're putting it in your pocket? Quite right. I +prefer that to what you did up there.--A nasty little impulse, that, +of yours!--Still, you're young, you suddenly see--in a flash!--that +you've once more been done by that confounded Lupin and that he is +standing there in front of you, at three steps from you--and bang! +You fire!--I'm not angry with you, bless your little heart! To prove +it, I offer you a seat in my 100 h.p. car. Will that suit you?" + +He put his fingers to his mouth and whistled. + +The contrast was delicious between the venerable appearance of this +elderly Massiban and the schoolboy ways and accent which Lupin was +putting on. Beautrelet could not help laughing. + +"He's laughed! He's laughed!" cried Lupin, jumping for joy. "You +see, baby, what you fall short in is the power of smiling; you're a +trifle serious for your age. You're a very likeable boy, you have a +charming candor and simplicity--but you have no sense of humor." He +placed himself in front of him. "Look here, bet you I make you cry! +Do you know how I was able to follow up all your inquiry, how I knew +of the letter Massiban wrote you and his appointment to meet you +this morning at the Chateau de Velines? Through the prattle of your +friend, the one you're staying with. You confide in that idiot and +he loses no time, but goes and tells everything to his best girl. +And his best girl has no secrets for Lupin.--What did I tell you? +I've made you feel, anyhow; your eyes are quite wet!--Friendship +betrayed: that upsets you, eh? Upon my word, you're wonderful! I +could take you in my arms and hug you! You always wear that look of +astonishment which goes straight to my heart.--I shall never forget +the other evening at Gaillon, when you consulted me.--Yes, I was the +old notary!--But why don't you laugh, youngster? As I said, you have +no sense of a joke. Look here, what you want is--what shall I call +it?--imagination, imaginative impulse. Now, I'm full of imaginative +impulse." + +A motor was heard panting not far off. Lupin seized Beautrelet +roughly by the arm and in a cold voice, looking him straight in the +eyes: + +"You're going to keep quiet now, aren't you? You can see there's +nothing to be done. Then what's the use of wasting your time and +energy? There are plenty of highway robbers in the world. Run after +them and let me be--if not!--It's settled, isn't it?" + +He shook him as though to enforce his will upon him. Then he +grinned: + +"Fool that I am! You leave me alone? You're not one of those who let +go! Oh, I don't know what restrains me! In half a dozen turns of the +wrist, I could have you bound and gagged--and, in two hours, safe +under lock and key, for some months to come. And then I could twist +my thumbs in all security, withdraw to the peaceful retreat prepared +for me by my ancestors, the Kings of France, and enjoy the treasures +which they have been good enough to accumulate for me. But no, it is +doomed that I must go on blundering to the end. I can't help it, we +all have our weaknesses--and I have one for you. Besides, it's not +done yet. From now until you put your finger into the hollow of the +Needle, a good deal of water will flow under the bridges. Dash it +all, it took me ten days! Me! Lupin! You will want ten years, at +least! There's that much distance between us, after all!" + +The motor arrived, an immense closed car. Lupin opened the door and +Beautreiet gave a cry. There was a man inside and that man was +Lupin, or rather Massiban. Suddenly understanding, he burst out +laughing. Lupin said: + +"Don't be afraid, he's sound asleep. I promised that you should see +him. Do you grasp the situation now? At midnight, I knew of your +appointment at the castle. At seven in the morning, I was there. +When Massiban passed, I had only to collect him--give him a tiny +prick with a needle--and the thing--was done. Sleep old chap, sleep +away. We'll set you down on the slope. That's it--there--capital-- +right in the sun, then you won't catch cold--good! And our hat in +our hand.--Spare a copper, kind gentleman!--Oh. my dear old +Massiban, so you were after Arsene Lupin!" + +It was really a huge joke to see the two Massibans face to face, one +asleep with his head on his chest, the other seriously occupied in +paying him every sort of attention and respect: + +"Pity a poor blind man! There, Massiban, here's two sous and my +visiting-card. And now, my lads, off we go at the fourth speed. Do +you hear, driver? You've got to do seventy-five miles an hour. Jump +in, Isidore. There's a full sitting of the Institute to-day, and +Massiban is to read a little paper, on I don't know what, at half- +past three. Well, he'll read them his little paper. I'll dish them +up a complete Massiban, more real than the real one, with my own +ideas, on the lacustrine inscriptions. I don't have an opportunity +of lecturing at the Institute ever day!--Faster, chauffeur: we're +only doing seventy-one and a half!--Are you afraid? Remember you're +with Lupin!--Ah, Isidore, and then people say that life is +monotonous! Why, life's an adorable thing, my boy; only one has to +know--and I know--. Wasn't it enough to make a man jump out of his +skin for joy, just now, at the castle, when you were chattering with +old Velines and I, up against the window, was tearing out the pages +of the historic book? And then, when you were questioning the Dame +de Villemon about the Hollow Needle! Would she speak? Yes, she +would--no, she wouldn't--yes--no. It gave me gooseflesh, I assure +you.--If she spoke, I should have to build up my life anew, the +whole scaffolding was destroyed.--Would the footman come in time? +Yes--no--there he is.--But Beautrelet will unmask me! Never! He's +too much of a flat! Yes, though--no--there, he's done it--no, he +hasn't--yes--he's eyeing me--that's it--he's feeling for his +revolver!--Oh, the delight of it!--Isidore, you're talking too much, +you'll hurt yourself!--Let's have a snooze, shall we?--I'm dying of +sleep.--Good night." + +Beautrelet looked at him. He seemed almost asleep already. He slept. + +The motor-car, darting through space, rushed toward a horizon that +was constantly reached and as constantly retreated. There was no +impression of towns, villages, fields or forests; simply space, +space devoured, swallowed up. + +Beautrelet looked at his traveling companion, for a long time, with +eager curiosity and also with a keen wish to fathom his real +character through the mask that covered it. And he thought of the +circumstances that confined them, like that, together, in the close +contact of that motor car. But, after the excitement and +disappointment of the morning, tired in his turn, he too fell +asleep. + +When he woke, Lupin was reading. Beautrelet leant over to see the +title of the book. It was the Epistolae ad Lucilium of Seneca the +philosopher. + + + + +CHAPTER EIGHT + +FROM CAESAR TO LUPIN + + +Dash it all, it took me ten days! Me! Lupin! + +You will want ten years, at least!-- + +These words, uttered by Lupin after leaving the Chateau de Velines, +had no little influence on Beautrelet's conduct. + +Though very calm in the main and invariably master of himself, +Lupin, nevertheless, was subject to moments of exaltation, of a more +or less romantic expansiveness, at once theatrical and good-humored, +when he allowed certain admissions to escape him, certain imprudent +speeches which a boy like Beautrelet could easily turn to profit. + +Rightly or wrongly, Beautrelet read one of these involuntary +admissions into that phrase. He was entitled to conclude that, if +Lupin drew a comparison between his own efforts and Beautrelet's in +pursuit of the truth about the Hollow Needle, it was because the two +of them possessed identical means of attaining their object, because +Lupin had no elements of success different from those possessed by +his adversary. The chances were alike. Now, with the same chances, +the same elements of success, the same means, ten days had been +enough for Lupin. + +What were those elements, those means, those chances? They were +reduced, when all was said, to a knowledge of the pamphlet published +in 1815, a pamphlet which Lupin, no doubt, like Massiban, had found +by accident and thanks to which he had succeeded in discovering the +indispensable document in Marie Antoinette's book of hours. + +Therefore, the pamphlet and the document were the only two +fundamental facts upon which Lupin had relied. With these he had +built up the whole edifice. He had had no extraneous aid. The study +of the pamphlet and the study of the document--full stop--that was +all. + +Well, could not Beautrelet confine himself to the same ground? What +was the use of an impossible struggle? What was the use of those +vain investigations, in which, even supposing that he avoided the +pitfalls that were multiplied under his feet, he was sure, in the +end, to achieve the poorest of results? + +His decision was clear and immediate; and, in adopting it, he had +the happy instinct that he was on the right path. He began by +leaving his Janson-de-Sailly schoolfellow, without indulging in +useless recriminations, and, taking his portmanteau with him, went +and installed himself, after much hunting about, in a small hotel +situated in the very heart of Paris. This hotel he did not leave for +days. At most, he took his meals at the table d'hote. The rest of +the time, locked in his room, with the window-curtains close-drawn, +he spent in thinking. + +"Ten days," Arsene Lupin had said. + +Beautrelet, striving to forget all that he had done and to remember +only the elements of the pamphlet and the document, aspired eagerly +to keep within the limit of those ten days. However the tenth day +passed and the eleventh and the twelfth; but, on the thirteenth day, +a gleam lit up his brain and, very soon, with the bewildering +rapidity of those ideas which develop in us like miraculous plants, +the truth emerged, blossomed, gathered strength. On the evening of +the thirteenth day, he certainly did not know the answer to the +problem, but he knew, to a certainty, one of the methods which Lupin +had, beyond a doubt, employed. + +It was a very simple method, hinging on this one question: Is there +a link of any sort uniting all the more or less important historic +events with which the pamphlet connects the mystery of the Hollow +Needle? + +The great diversity of these events made the question difficult to +answer. Still, the profound examination to which Beautrelet applied +himself ended by pointing to one essential characteristic which was +common to them all. Each one of them, without exception, had +happened within the boundaries of the old kingdom of Neustria, which +correspond very nearly with those of our present-day Normandy. All +the heroes of the fantastic adventure are Norman, or become Norman, +or play their part in the Norman country. + +What a fascinating procession through the ages! What a rousing +spectacle was that of all those barons, dukes and kings, starting +from such widely opposite points to meet in this particular corner +of the world! Beautrelet turned the pages of history at haphazard: +it was Rolf, or Rou, or Rollo, first Duke of Normandy, who was +master of the secret of the Needle, according to the treaty of +Saint-Clair-sur-Epte! + +It was William the Conqueror, Duke of Normandy and King of England, +whose bannerstaff was pierced like a needle! + +It was at Rouen that the English burnt Joan of Arc, mistress of the +secret! + +And right at the beginning of the adventure, who is that chief of +the Caleti who pays his ransom to Caesar with the secret of the +Needle but the chief of the men of the Caux country, which lies in +the very heart of Normandy? + +The supposition becomes more definite. The field narrows. Rouen, the +banks of the Seine, the Caux country: it really seems as though all +roads lead in that direction. Two kings of France are mentioned more +particularly, after the secret is lost by the Dukes of Normandy and +their heirs, the kings of England, and becomes the royal secret of +France; and these two are King Henry IV., who laid siege to Rouen +and won the battle of Arques, near Dieppe, and Francis I., who +founded the Havre and uttered that suggestive phrase: + +"The kings of France carry secrets that often decide the fate of +towns!" + +Rouen, Dieppe, the Havre: the three angles of the triangle, the +three large towns that occupy the three points. In the centre, the +Caux country. + +The seventeenth century arrives. Louis XIV. burns the book in which +a person unknown reveals the truth. Captain de Larbeyrie masters a +copy, profits by the secret thus obtained, steals a certain number +of jewels and dies by the hand of highway murderers. Now at which +spot is the ambush laid? At Gaillon! At Gaillon, a little town on +the road leading from Havre, Rouen or Dieppe to Paris! + +A year later, Louis XIV. buys a domain and builds the Chateau de +l'Aiguille. Where does he select his site? In the Midlands of +France, with the result that the curious are thrown off the scent +and do not hunt about in Normandy. + +Rouen, Dieppe, the Havre--the Cauchois triangle--everything lies +there. On one side, the sea; on another, the Seine: on the third, +the two valleys that lead from Rouen to Dieppe. + +A light flashed across Beautrelet's mind. That extent of ground, +that country of the high tablelands which run from the cliffs of the +Seine to the cliffs of the Channel almost invariably constituted the +field of operations of Arsene Lupin. For ten years, it was just this +district which he parcelled out for his purposes, as though he had +his haunt in the very centre of the region with which, the legend of +the Hollow Needle was most closely connected. + +The affair of Baron Cahorn? [Footnote: The Seven of Hearts, by +Maurice Leblanc. II; Arsene Lupin in Prison] Or the banks of the +Seine, between Rouen and the Havre. + +The Thibermenil case? [Footnote: The Seven of Hearts. IX: Holmlock +Shears Arrives Too Late.] At the other end of the tableland, between +Rouen and Dieppe. + +The Gruchet, Montigny, Crasville burglaries? In the midst of the +Caux country. + +Where was Lupin going when he was attacked and bound hand and foot, +in his compartment by Pierre Onfrey, the Auteuil murderer? +[Footnote: The Seven of Hearts. IV: The Mysterious Railway- +passenger.] To Rouen. + +Where was Holmlock Shears, Lupin's prisoner, put on board ship? +[Footnote: Arsene Lupin versus Holmlock Shears, by Maurice Leblanc, +Chapter V: Kidnapped.] Near the Havre. + +And what was the scene of the whole of the present tragedy? +Ambrumesy, on the road between the Havre and Dieppe. + +Rouen, Dieppe, the Havre: always the Cauchois triangle. + +And so, a few years earlier, possessing the pamphlet and knowing the +hiding-place in which Marie Antoinette had concealed the document, +Arsene Lupin had ended by laying his hand on the famous book of +hours. Once in possession of the document, he took the field, +"found" and settled down as in a conquered country. + +Beautrelet took the field. + +He set out in genuine excitement, thinking of the same journey which +Lupin had taken, of the same hopes with which he must have throbbed +when he thus went in search of the tremendous secret which was to +arm him with so great a power. Would his, Beautrelet's efforts have +the same victorious results? + +He left Rouen early in the morning, on foot, with his face very much +disguised and his bag at the end of a stick on his shoulder, like an +apprentice doing his round of France. He walked straight to Duclair, +where he lunched. On leaving this town, he followed the Seine and +practically did not lose sight of it again. His instinct, +strengthened, moreover, by numerous influences, always brought him +back to the sinuous banks of the stately river. When the Chateau du +Malaquis was robbed, the objects stolen from Baron Cahorn's +collection were sent by way of the Seine. The old carvings removed +from the chapel at Ambrumesy were carried to the Seine bank. He +pictured the whole fleet of pinnaces performing a regular service +between Rouen and the Havre and draining the works of art and +treasures from a countryside to dispatch them thence to the land of +millionaires. + +"I'm burning! I'm burning!" muttered the boy, gasping under the +truth, which came to him in a mighty series of shocks and took away +his breath. + +The checks encountered on the first few days, did not discourage +him. He had a firm and profound belief in the correctness of the +supposition that was guiding him. It was bold, perhaps, and +extravagant; no matter: it was worthy of the adversary pursued. The +supposition was on a level with the prodigious reality that bore the +name of Lupin. With a man like that, of what good could it be to +look elsewhere than in the domain of the enormous, the exaggerated, +the superhuman? + +Jumieges, the Mailleraye, Saint-Wandrille, Caudebec, Tancarville, +Quillebeuf were places filled with his memories. How often he must +have contemplated the glory of their Gothic steeples or the splendor +of their immense ruins! + +But the Havre, the neighborhood of the Havre drew Isidore like a +beacon-fire. + +"The kings of France carry secrets that often decide the fate of +towns!" + +Cryptic words which, suddenly, for Beautrelet, shone bright with +clearness! Was this not an exact statement of the reasons that +determined Francis I. to create a town on this spot and was not the +fate of the Havre-de-Grace linked with the very secret of the +Needle? + +"That's it, that's it," stammered Beautrelet, excitedly. "The old +Norman estuary, one of the essential points, one of the original +centres around which our French nationality was formed, is completed +by those two forces, one in full view, alive, known to all, the new +port commanding the ocean and opening on the world; the other dim +and obscure, unknown and all the more alarming, inasmuch as it is +invisible and impalpable. A whole side of the history of France and +of the royal house is explained by the Needle, even as it explains +the whole story of Arsene Lupin. The same sources of energy and +power supply and renew the fortunes of kings and of the adventurer." + +Beautrelet ferreted and snuffed from village to village, from the +river to the sea, with his nose in the wind, his ears pricked, +trying to compel the inanimate things to surrender their deep +meaning. Ought this hill-slope to be questioned? Or that forest? Or +the houses of this hamlet? Or was it among the insignificant phrases +spoken by that peasant yonder that he might hope to gather the one +little illuminating word? + +One morning, he was lunching at an inn, within sight of Honfleur, +the old city of the estuary. Opposite him was sitting one of those +heavy, red-haired Norman horse-dealers who do the fairs of the +district, whip in hand and clad in a long smock-frock. After a +moment, it seemed to Beautrelet that the man was looking at him with +a certain amount of attention, as though he knew him or, at least, +was trying to recognize him. + +"Pooh," he thought, "there's some mistake: I've never seen that +merchant before, nor he me." + +As a matter of fact, the man appeared to take no further interest in +him. He lit his pipe, called for coffee and brandy, smoked and +drank. + +When Beautrelet had finished his meal, he paid and rose to go. A +group of men entered just as he was about to leave and he had to +stand for a few seconds near the table at which the horse-dealer +sat. He then heard the man say in a low voice: + +"Good-afternoon, M. Beautrelet." + +Without hesitation, Isidore sat down beside the man and said: + +"Yes, that is my name--but who are you? How did you know me?" + +"That's not difficult--and yet I've only seen your portrait in the +papers. But you are so badly--what do you call it in French--so +badly made-up." + +He had a pronounced foreign accent and Beautrelet seemed to +perceive, as he looked at him, that he too wore a facial disguise +that entirely altered his features. + +"Who are you?" he repeated. "Who are you?" + +The stranger smiled: + +"Don't you recognize me?" + +"No, I never saw you before." + +"Nor I you. But think. The papers print my portrait also--and pretty +often. Well, have you got it?" + +"No." + +"Holmlock Shears." + +It was an amusing and, at the same time, a significant meeting. The +boy at once saw the full bearing of it. After an exchange of +compliments, he said to Shears: + +"I suppose that you are here--because of 'him'?" + +"Yes." + +"So--so--you think we have a chance--in this direction." + +"I'm sure of it." + +Beautrelet's delight at finding that Shears's opinion agreed with +his own was not unmingled with other feelings. If the Englishman +attained his object, it meant that, at the very best, the two would +share the victory; and who could tell that Shears would not attain +it first? + +"Have you any proofs? Any clues?" + +"Don't be afraid," grinned the Englishman, who understood his +uneasiness. "I am not treading on your heels. With you, it's the +document, the pamphlet: things that do not inspire me with any great +confidence." + +"And with you?" + +"With me, it's something different." + +"Should I be indiscreet, if--?" + +"Not at all. You remember the story of the coronet, the story of the +Duc de Charmerac?" [Footnote: Arsene Lupin, play in four acts, by +Maurice Leblanc and Francis de Croisset.] + +"Yes." + +"You remember Victoire, Lupin's old foster-mother, the one whom my +good friend Ganimard allowed to escape in a sham prison-van?" + +"Yes." + +"I have found Victoire's traces. She lives on a farm, not far from +National Road No. 25. National Road No. 25 is the road from the +Havre to Lille. Through Victoire I shall easily get at Lupin." + +"It will take long." + +"No matter! I have dropped all my cases. This is the only one I care +about. Between Lupin and me, it's a fight--a fight to the death." + +He spoke these words with a sort of ferocity that betrayed all his +bitterness at the humiliations which he had undergone, all his +fierce hatred of the great enemy who had tricked him so cruelly. + +"Go away, now," he whispered, "we are observed. It's dangerous. But +mark my words: on the day when Lupin and I meet face to face, it +will be--it will be tragic." + +Beautrelet felt quite reassured on leaving Shears: he need not fear +that the Englishman would gain on him. And here was one more proof +which this chance interview had brought him: the road from the Havre +to Lille passes through Dieppe! It is the great seaside road of the +Caux country, the coast road commanding the Channel cliffs! And it +was on a farm near this road that Victoire was installed, Victoire, +that is to say, Lupin, for one did not move without the other, the +master without the blindly devoted servant. + +"I'm burning! I'm burning!" he repeated to himself. "Whenever +circumstances bring me a new element of information, it confirms my +supposition. On the one hand, I have the absolute certainty of the +banks of the Seine; on the other, the certainty of the National +Road. The two means of communication meet at the Havre, the town of +Francis I., the town of the secret. The boundaries are contracting. +The Caux country is not large; and, even so, I have only the western +portion of the Caux country to search." + +He set to work with renewed stubbornness: + +"Anything that Lupin has found," he kept on saying to himself, +"there is no reason for my not finding." + +Certainly, Lupin had some great advantage over him, perhaps a +thorough acquaintance with the country, a precise knowledge of the +local legends, or less than that, a memory: invaluable advantages +these, for he, Beautrelet, knew nothing, was totally ignorant of the +country, which he had first visited at the time of the Ambrumesy +burglary and then only rapidly, without lingering. + +But what did it matter? Though he had to devote ten years of his +life to this investigation, he would carry it to a successful issue. +Lupin was there. He could see him, he could feel him there. He +expected to come upon him at the next turn of the road, on the skirt +of the next wood, outside the next village. And, though continually +disappointed, he seemed to find in each disappointment a fresh +reason for persisting. + +Often, he would fling himself on the slope by the roadside and +plunge into wild examination of the copy of the document which he +always carried on him, a copy, that is to say, with vowels taking +the place of the figures: + +e . a . a . . e . . e . a . . a . . + a . . . e . e . . e . oi . e . . e . + . ou . . e . o . . . e . . e . o . . e + + +[Illustration: drawing of an outline of paper with writing and +drawing on it--numbers, dots, some letters, signs and symbols...] + +ai . ui . . e . . eu . e + +Often, also, according to his habit, he would lie down flat on his +stomach in the tall grass and think for hours. He had time enough. +The future belonged to him. + +With wonderful patience, he tramped from the Seine to the sea, and +from the sea to the Seine, going gradually farther, retracing his +steps and never quitting the ground until, theoretically speaking, +there was not a chance left of gathering the smallest particle upon +it. + +He studied and explored Montivilliers and Saint-Romani and Octeville +and Gonneville and Criquetot. + +At night, he knocked at the peasants' doors and asked for a lodging. +After dinner, they smoked together and chatted. He made them tell +him the stories which they told one another on the long winter +nights. And he never omitted to insinuate, slily: + +"What about the Needle? The legend of the Hollow Needle? Don't you +know that?" + +"Upon my word, I don't--never heard of it--" + +"Just think--an old wives' tale--something that has to do with a +needle. An enchanted needle, perhaps.--I don't know--" + +Nothing. No legend, no recollection. And the next morning he walked +blithely away again. + +One day, he passed through the pretty village of Saint-Jouin, which +overlooks the sea, and descending among the chaos of rocks that have +slipped from cliffs, he climbed up to the tableland and went in the +direction of the dry valley of Bruneval, Cap d'Antifer and the +little creek of Belle-Plage. He was walking gaily and lightly, +feeling a little tired, perhaps, but glad to be alive, so glad, +even, that he forgot Lupin and the mystery of the Hollow Needle and +Victoire and Shears, and interested himself in the sight of nature: +the blue sky, the great emerald sea, all glittering in the sunshine. + +Some straight slopes and remains of brick walls, in which he seemed +to recognize the vestiges of a Roman camp, interested him. Then his +eyes fell upon a sort of little castle, built in imitation of an +ancient fort, with cracked turrets and Gothic windows. It stood on a +jagged, rugged, rising promontory, almost detached from the cliff. A +barred gate, flanked by iron hand-rails and bristling spikes, +guarded the narrow passage. + +Beautrelet succeeded in climbing over, not without some difficulty. +Over the pointed door, which was closed with an old rusty lock, he +read the words: + +FORT DE FREFOSSE + +He did not attempt to enter, but, turning to the right, after going +down a little slope, he embarked upon a path that ran along a ridge +of land furnished with a wooden handrail. Right at the end was a +cave of very small dimensions, forming a sort of watch-tower at the +point of the rock in which it was hollowed out, a rock falling +abruptly into the sea. + +There was just room to stand up in the middle of the cave. +Multitudes of inscriptions crossed one another on the walls. An +almost square hole, cut in the stone, opened like a dormer window on +the land side, exactly opposite Fort Frefosse, the crenellated top +of which appeared at thirty or forty yards' distance. + +Beautrelet threw off his knapsack and sat down. He had had a hard +and tiring day. He fell asleep for a little. Then the cool wind that +blew inside the cave woke him up. He sat for a few minutes without +moving, absent-minded, vague-eyed. He tried to reflect, to recapture +his still torpid thoughts. And, as he recovered his consciousness, +he was on the point of rising, when he received the impression that +his eyes, suddenly fixed, suddenly wide-open, saw-- + +A thrill shook him from head to foot. His hands clutched +convulsively and he felt the beads of perspiration forming at the +roots of his hair: + +"No, no," he stammered. "It's a dream, an hallucination. Let's look: +it's not possible!" + +He plunged down on his knees and stooped over. Two huge letters, +each perhaps a foot long, appeared cut in relief in the granite of +the floor. Those two letters, clumsily, but plainly carved, with +their corners rounded and their surface smoothed by the wear and +tear of centuries, were a D and an F. + +D and F! Oh, bewildering miracle! D and F: just two letters of the +document! Oh, Beautrelet had no need to consult it to bring before +his mind that group of letters in the fourth line, the line of the +measurements and indications! He knew them well! They were inscribed +for all time at the back of his pupils, encrusted for good and all +in the very substance of his brain! + +He rose to his feet, went down the steep road, climbed back along +the old fort, hung on to the spikes of the rail again, in order to +pass, and walked briskly toward a shepherd whose flock was grazing +some way off on a dip in the tableland: + +"That cave, over there--that cave--" + +His lips trembled and he tried to find the words that would not +come. The shepherd looked at him in amazement. At last, Isidore +repeated: + +"Yes, that cave--over there--to the right of the fort. Has it a +name?" + +"Yes, I should think so. All the Etretat folk like to call it the +Demoiselles." + +"What?--What?--What's that you say?" + +"Why, of course--it's the Chambre des Demoiselles." + +Isidore felt like flying at his throat, as though all the truth +lived in that man and he hoped to get it from him at one swoop, to +tear it from him. + +The Demoiselles! One of the words, one of the only three known words +of the document! + +A whirlwind of madness shook Beautrelet where he stood. And it rose +all around him, blew upon him like a tempestuous squall that came +from the sea, that came from the land, that came from every +direction and whipped him with great lashes of the truth. + +He understood. The document appeared to him in its real sense. The +Chambre des Demoiselles--Etretat-- + +"That's it," he thought, his brain filled with light, "it must be +that. But why didn't I guess earlier?" + +He said to the shepherd, in a low voice: + +"That will do--go away--you can go--thank you." + +The man, not knowing what to think, whistled to his dog and went. + +Left alone, Beautrelet returned to the fort. He had almost passed it +when, suddenly, he dropped to the ground and lay cowering against a +piece of wall. And, wringing his hands, he thought: + +"I must be mad! If 'he' were to see me! Or his accomplices! I've +been moving about for an hour--!" + +He did not stir another limb. + +The sun went down. Little by little, the night mingled with the day, +blurring the outline of things. + +Then, with little imperceptible movements, flat on his stomach, +gliding, crawling, he crept along one of the points of the +promontory to the extreme edge of the cliff. + +He reached it. Stretching out his hands, he pushed aside some tufts +of grass and his head appeared over the precipice. + +Opposite him, almost level with the cliff, in the open sea rose an +enormous rock, over eighty yards high, a colossal obelisk, standing +straight on its granite base, which showed at the surface of the +water, and tapering toward the summit, like the giant tooth of a +monster of the deep. White with the dirty gray white of the cliff, +the awful monolith was streaked with horizontal lines marked by +flint and displaying the slow work of the centuries, which had +heaped alternate layers of lime and pebble-stone one atop of the +other. + +Here and there, a fissure, a break; and, wherever these occurred, a +scrap of earth, with grass and leaves. + +And all this was mighty and solid and formidable, with the look of +an indestructible thing against which the furious assault of the +waves and storms could not prevail. And it was definite and +permanent and grand, despite the grandeur of the cliffy rampart that +commanded it, despite the immensity of the space in which it stood. + +Beautrelet's nails dug into the soil like the claws of an animal +ready to leap upon its prey. His eyes penetrated the wrinkled +texture of the rock, penetrated its skin, so it seemed to him, its +very flesh. He touched it, felt it, took cognizance and possession +of it, absorbed and assimilated it. + +The horizon turned crimson with all the flames of the vanished sun; +and long, red clouds, set motionless in the sky, formed glorious +landscapes, fantastic lagoons, fiery plains, forests of gold, lakes +of blood, a whole glowing and peaceful phantasmagoria. + +The blue of the sky grew darker. Venus shone with a marvelous +brightness; then other stars lit up, timid as yet. + +And Beautrelet suddenly closed his eyes and convulsively pressed his +folded arms to his forehead. Over there--oh, he felt as though he +would die for joy, so great was the cruel emotion that wrung his +heart!--over there, almost at the top of the Needle of Etretat, a +little below the extreme point round which the sea-mews fluttered, a +thread of smoke came filtering through a crevice, as though from an +invisible chimney, a thread of smoke rose in slow spirals in the +calm air of the twilight. + + + + +CHAPTER NINE + +OPEN, SESAME! + + +The Etretat Needle was hollow! + +Was it a natural phenomenon, an excavation produced by internal +cataclysms or by the imperceptible action of the rushing sea and the +soaking rain? Or was it a superhuman work executed by human beings, +Gauls, Celts, prehistoric men? + +These, no doubt, were insoluble questions; and what did it matter? +The essence of the thing was contained in this fact: The Needle was +hollow. At forty or fifty yards from that imposing arch which is +called the Porte d'Aval and which shoots out from the top of the +cliff, like the colossal branch of a tree, to take root in the +submerged rocks, stands an immense limestone cone; and this cone is +no more than the shell of a pointed cap poised upon the empty +waters! + +A prodigious revelation! After Lupin, here was Beautrelet +discovering the key to the great riddle that had loomed over more +than twenty centuries! A key of supreme importance to whoever +possessed it in the days of old, in those distant times when hordes +of barbarians rode through and overran the old world! A magic key +that opens the cyclopean cavern to whole tribes fleeing before the +enemy! A mysterious key that guards the door of the most inviolable +shelter! An enchanted key that gives power and ensures +preponderance! + +Because he knows this key, Caesar is able to subdue Gaul. Because +they know it, the Normans force their sway upon the country and, +from there, later, backed by that support, conquer the neighboring +island, conquer Sicily, conquer the East, conquer the new world! + +Masters of the secret, the Kings of England lord it over France, +humble her, dismember her, have themselves crowned at Paris. They +lose the secret; and the rout begins. + +Masters of the secret, the Kings of France push back and overstep +the narrow limits of their dominion, gradually founding a great +nation and radiating with glory and power. They forget it or know +not how to use it; and death, exile, ruin follow. + +An invisible kingdom, in mid-water and at ten fathoms from land! An +unknown fortress, taller than the towers of Notre Dame and built +upon a granite foundation larger than a public square! What strength +and what security! From Paris to the sea, by the Seine. There, the +Havre, the new town, the necessary town. And, sixteen miles thence, +the Hollow Needle, the impregnable sanctuary! + +It is a sanctuary and also a stupendous hiding-place. All the +treasures of the kings, increasing from century to century, all the +gold of France, all that they extort from the people, all that they +snatch from the clergy, all the booty gathered on the battle-fields +of Europe lie heaped up in the royal cave. Old Merovingian gold +sous, glittering crown-pieces, doubloons, ducats, florins, guineas; +and the precious stones and the diamonds; and all the jewels and all +the ornaments: everything is there. Who could discover it? Who could +ever learn the impenetrable secret of the Needle? Nobody. + +And Lupin becomes that sort of really disproportionate being whom we +know, that miracle incapable of explanation so long as the truth +remains in the shadow. Infinite though the resources of his genius +be, they cannot suffice for the mad struggle which he maintains +against society. He needs other, more material resources. He needs a +sure place of retreat, he needs the certainty of impunity, the peace +that allows of the execution of his plans. + +Without the Hollow Needle, Lupin is incomprehensible, a myth, a +character in a novel, having no connection with reality. + +Master of the secret--and of such a secret!--he becomes simply a man +like another, but gifted with the power of wielding in a superior +manner the extraordinary weapon with which destiny has endowed him. + + * * * * * + +So the Needle was hollow. + +It remained to discover how one obtained access to it. + +From the sea, obviously. There must be, on the side of the offing, +some fissure where boats could land at certain hours of the tide. + +But on the side of the land? + +Beautrelet lay until ten o'clock at night hanging over the +precipice, with his eyes riveted on the shadowy mass formed by the +pyramid, thinking and pondering with all the concentrated effort of +his mind. + +Then he went down to Etretat, selected the cheapest hotel, dined, +went up to his room and unfolded the document. + +It was the merest child's play to him now to establish its exact +meaning. He at once saw that the three vowels of the word Etretat +occurred in the first line, in their proper order and at the +necessary intervals. This first line now read as follows: + +e . a . a .. etretat . a .. + +What words could come before Etretat? Words, no doubt, that referred +to the position of the Needle with regard to the town. Now the +Needle stood on the left, on the west--He ransacked his memory and, +recollecting that westerly winds are called vents d'aval on the +coast and that the nearest porte was known as the Porte d'Aval, he +wrote down: + +"En aval d'Etretat . a .." + +The second line was that containing the word Demoiselles and, at +once seeing, in front of that word, the series of all the vowels +that form part of the words la chambre des, he noted the two +phrases: + +"En aval d'Etretat. La Chambre des Demoiselles." + +The third line gave him more trouble; and it was not until some +groping that, remembering the position, near the Chambre des +Demoiselles, of the Fort de Frefosse, he ended by almost completely +reconstructing the document: + +"En aval d'Etretat. La Chambre des Demoiselles. Sous le Fort de +Frefosse. L'Aiguille creuse." + +These were the four great formulas, the essential and general +formulas which you had to know. By means of them, you turned en +aval, that is to say, below or west of Etretat, entered the Chambre +des Demoiselles, in all probability passed under Fort Frefosse and +thus arrived at the Needle. + +How? By means of the indications and measurements that constituted +the fourth line: + +[Illustration: drawing of an outline of paper with writing and +drawing on it--numbers, dots, some letters, signs and symbols...] + +These were evidently the more special formulas to enable you to find +the outlet through which you made your way and the road that led to +the Needle. + +Beautrelet at once presumed--and his surmise was no more than the +logical consequence of the document--that, if there really was a +direct communication between the land and the obelisk of the Needle, +the underground passage must start from the Chambre des Demoiselles, +pass under Fort Frefosse, descend perpendicularly the three hundred +feet of cliff and, by means of a tunnel contrived under the rocks of +the sea, end at the Hollow Needle. + +Which was the entrance to the underground passage? Did not the two +letters D and F, so plainly cut, point to it and admit to it, with +the aid, perhaps, of some ingenious piece of mechanism? + +The whole of the next morning, Isidore strolled about Etretat and +chatted with everybody he met, in order to try and pick up useful +information. At last, in the afternoon, he went up the cliff. +Disguised as a sailor, he had made himself still younger and, in a +pair of trousers too short for him and a fishing jersey, he looked a +mere scape-grace of twelve or thirteen. + +As soon as he entered the cave, he knelt down before the letters. +Here a disappointment awaited him. It was no use his striking them, +pushing them, manipulating them in every way: they refused to move. +And it was not long, in fact, before he became aware that they were +really unable to move and that, therefore, they controlled no +mechanism. + +And yet--and yet they must mean something! Inquiries which he had +made in the village went to show that no one had ever been able to +explain their existence and that the Abbe Cochet, in his valuable +little book on Etretat, [Footnote: Les Origines d'Etretat. The Abbe +Cochet seems to conclude, in the end, that the two letters are the +initials of a passer-by. The revelations now made prove the fallacy +of the theory.] had also tried in vain to solve this little puzzle. +But Isidore knew what the learned Norman archaeologist did not know, +namely, that the same two letters figured in the document, on the +line containing the indications. Was it a chance coincidence: +Impossible. Well, then--? + +An idea suddenly occurred to him, an idea so reasonable, so simple +that he did not doubt its correctness for a second. Were not that D +and that F the initials of the two most important words in the +document, the words that represented--together with the Needle--the +essential stations on the road to be followed: the Chambre des +Demoiselles and Fort Frefosse: D for Demoiselles, F for Frefosse: +the connection was too remarkable to be a mere accidental fact. + +In that case, the problem stood thus: the two letters D F represent +the relation that exists between the Chambre des Demoiselles and +Fort Frefosse, the single letter D, which begins the line, +represents the Demoiselles, that is to say, the cave in which you +have to begin by taking up your position, and the single letter F, +placed in the middle of the line, represents Frefosse, that is to +say, the probable entrance to the underground passage. + +Between these various signs, are two more: first, a sort of +irregular rectangle, marked with a stripe in the left bottom corner, +and, next, the figure 19, signs which obviously indicate to those +inside the cave the means of penetrating beneath the fort. + +The shape of this rectangle puzzled Isidore. Was there around him, +on the walls of the cave, or at any rate within reach of his eyes, +an inscription, anything whatever, affecting a rectangular shape? + +He looked for a long time and was on the point of abandoning that +particular scent when his eyes fell upon the little opening, pierced +in the rock, that acted as a window to the chamber. + +Now the edges of this opening just formed a rectangle: corrugated, +uneven, clumsy, but still a rectangle; and Beautrelet at once saw +that, by placing his two feet on the D and the F carved in the stone +floor--and this explained the stroke that surmounted the two letters +in the document--he found himself at the exact height of the window! + +He took up his position in this place and gazed out. The window +looking landward, as we know, he saw, first, the path that connected +the cave with the land, a path hung between two precipices; and, +next, he caught sight of the foot of the hillock on which the fort +stood. To try and see the fort, Beautrelet leaned over to the left +and it was then that he understood the meaning of the curved stripe, +the comma that marked the left bottom corner in the document: at the +bottom on the left-hand side of the window, a piece of flint +projected and the end of it was curved like a claw. It suggested a +regular shooter's mark. And, when a man applied his eye to this +mark, he saw cut out, on the slope of the mound facing him, a +restricted surface of land occupied almost entirely by an old brick +wall, a remnant of the original Fort Frefosse or of the old Roman +oppidum built on this spot. + +Beautrelet ran to this piece of wall, which was, perhaps, ten yards +long. It was covered with grass and plants. There was no indication +of any kind visible. And yet that figure 19? + +He returned to the cave, took from his pocket a ball of string and a +tape-measure, tied the string to the flint corner, fastened a pebble +at the nineteenth metre and flung it toward the land side. The +pebble at most reached the end of the path. + +"Idiot that I am!" thought Beautrelet. "Who reckoned by metres in +those days? The figure 19 means 19 fathoms [Footnote: The toise, or +fathom, measured 1.949 metres.--Translator's Note.] or nothing!" + +Having made the calculation, he ran out the twine, made a knot and +felt about on the piece of wall for the exact and necessarily one +point at which the knot, formed at 37 metres from the window of the +Demoiselles, should touch the Frefosse wall. In a few moments, the +point of contact was established. With his free hand, he moved aside +the leaves of mullein that had grown in the interstices. A cry +escaped him. The knot, which he held pressed down with his fore- +finger, was in the centre of a little cross carved in relief on a +brick. And the sign that followed on the figure 19 in the document +was a cross! + +It needed all his will-power to control the excitement with which he +was overcome. Hurriedly, with convulsive fingers, he clutched the +cross and, pressing upon it, turned it as he would have turned the +spokes of a wheel. The brick heaved. He redoubled his effort; it +moved no further. Then, without turning, he pressed harder. He at +once felt the brick give way. And, suddenly, there was the click of +a bolt that is released, the sound of a lock opening and, on the +right of the brick, to the width of about a yard, the wall swung +round on a pivot and revealed the orifice of an underground passage. + +Like a madman, Beautrelet seized the iron door in which the bricks +were sealed, pulled it back, violently and closed it. Astonishment, +delight, the fear of being surprised convulsed his face so as to +render it unrecognizable. He beheld the awful vision of all that had +happened there, in front of that door, during twenty centuries; of +all those people, initiated into the great secret, who had +penetrated through that issue: Celts, Gauls, Romans, Normans, +Englishmen, Frenchmen, barons, dukes, kings--and, after all of them, +Arsene Lupin--and, after Lupin, himself, Beautrelet. He felt that +his brain was slipping away from him. His eyelids fluttered. He fell +fainting and rolled to the bottom of the slope, to the very edge of +the precipice. + + * * * * * + +His task was done, at least the task which he was able to accomplish +alone, with his unaided resources. + +That evening, he wrote a long letter to the chief of the detective +service, giving a faithful account of the results of his +investigations and revealing the secret of the Hollow Needle. He +asked for assistance to complete his work and gave his address. + +While waiting for the reply, he spent two consecutive nights in the +Chambre des Demoiselles. He spent them overcome with fear, his +nerves shaken with a terror which was increased by the sounds of the +night. At every moment, he thought he saw shadows approach in his +direction. People knew of his presence in the cave--they were +coming--they were murdering him! + +His eyes, however, staring madly before them, sustained by all the +power of his will, clung to the piece of wall. + +On the first night, nothing stirred; but, on the second, by the +light of the stars and a slender crescent-moon, he saw the door open +and figures emerge from the darkness: he counted two, three, four, +five of them. + +It seemed to him that those five men were carrying fairly large +loads. He followed them for a little way. They cut straight across +the fields to the Havre road; and he heard the sound of a motor car +driving away. + +He retraced his steps, skirting a big farm. But, at the turn of the +road that ran beside it, he had only just time to scramble up a +slope and hide behind some trees. More men passed--four, five men-- +all carrying packages. And, two minutes later, another motor +snorted. + +This time, he had not the strength to return to his post; and he +went back to bed. + +When he woke and had finished dressing, the hotel waiter brought him +a letter. He opened it. It contained Ganimard's card. + +"At last!" cried Beautrelet, who, after so hard a campaign, was +really feeling the need of a comrade-in-arms. + +He ran downstairs with outstretched hands. Ganimard took them, +looked at him for a moment and said: + +"You're a fine fellow, my lad!" + +"Pooh!" he said. "Luck has served me." + +"There's no such thing as luck with 'him,'" declared the inspector, +who always spoke of Lupin in a solemn tone and without mentioning +his name. + +He sat down: + +"So we've got him!" + +"Just as we've had him twenty times over," said Beautrelet, +laughing. + +"Yes, but to-day--" + +"To-day, of course, the case is different. We know his retreat, his +stronghold, which means, when all is said, that Lupin is Lupin. He +can escape. The Etretat Needle cannot." + +"Why do you suppose that he will escape?" asked Ganimard, anxiously. + +"Why do you suppose that he requires to escape?" replied Beautrelet. +"There is nothing to prove that he is in the Needle at present. Last +night, eleven of his men left it. He may be one of the eleven." + +Ganimard reflected: + +"You are right. The great thing is the Hollow Needle. For the rest, +let us hope that chance will favor us. And now, let us talk." + +He resumed his serious voice, his self-important air and said: + +"My dear Beautrelet, I have orders to recommend you to observe the +most absolute discretion in regard to this matter." + +"Orders from whom?" asked Beautrelet, jestingly. "The prefect of +police?" + +"Higher than that." + +"The prime minister?" + +"Higher." + +"Whew!" + +Ganimard lowered his voice: + +"Beautrelet, I was at the Elysee last night. They look upon this +matter as a state secret of the utmost gravity. There are serious +reasons for concealing the existence of this citadel--reasons of +military strategy, in particular. It might become a revictualling +centre, a magazine for new explosives, for lately-invented +projectiles, for anything of that sort: the secret arsenal of +France, in fact." + +"But how can they hope to keep a secret like this? In the old days, +one man alone held it: the king. To-day, already, there are a good +few of us who know it, without counting Lupin's gang." + +"Still, if we gained only ten years', only five years' silence! +Those five years may be--the saving of us." + +"But, in order to capture this citadel, this future arsenal, it will +have to be attacked, Lupin must be dislodged. And all this cannot be +done without noise." + +"Of course, people will guess something, but they won't know. +Besides, we can but try." + +"All right. What's your plan?" + +"Here it is, in two words. To begin with, you are not Isidore +Beautrelet and there's no question of Arsene Lupin either. You are +and you remain a small boy of Etretat, who, while strolling about +the place, caught some fellows coming out of an underground passage. +This makes you suspect the existence of a flight of steps which cuts +through the cliff from top to bottom." + +"Yes, there are several of those flights of steps along the coast. +For instance, to the right of Etretat, opposite Benouville, they +showed me the Devil's Staircase, which every bather knows. And I say +nothing of the three or four tunnels used by the fishermen." + +"So you will guide me and one-half of my men. I shall enter alone, +or accompanied, that remains to be seen. This much is certain, that +the attack must be delivered that way. If Lupin is not in the +Needle, we shall fix up a trap in which he will be caught sooner or +later. If he is there--" + +"If he is there, he will escape from the Needle by the other side, +the side overlooking the sea." + +"In that case, he will at once be arrested by the other half of my +men." + +"Yes, but if, as I presume, you choose a moment when the sea is at +low ebb, leaving the base of the Needle uncovered, the chase will be +public, because it will take place before all the men and women +fishing for mussels, shrimps and shell-fish who swarm on the rocks +round about." + +"That is why I just mean to select the time when the sea is full." + +"In that case, he will make off in a boat." + +"Ah, but I shall have a dozen fishing-smacks, each of which will be +commanded by one of my men, and we shall collar him--" + +"If he doesn't slip through your dozen smacks, like a fish through +the meshes." + +"All right, then I'll sink him." + +"The devil you will! Shall you have guns?" + +"Why, of course! There's a torpedo-boat at the Havre at this moment. +A telegram from me will bring her to the Needle at the appointed +hour." + +"How proud Lupin will be! A torpedo-boat! Well, M. Ganimard, I see +that you have provided for everything. We have only to go ahead. +When do we deliver the assault?" + +"To-morrow." + +"At night?" + +"No, by daylight, at the flood-tide, as the clock strikes ten in the +morning." + +"Capital." + + * * * * * + +Under his show of gaiety, Beautrelet concealed a real anguish of +mind. He did not sleep until the morning, but lay pondering over the +most impracticable schemes, one after the other. + +Ganimard had left him in order to go to Yport, six or seven miles +from Etretat, where, for prudence's sake, he had told his men to +meet him, and where he chartered twelve fishing smacks, with the +ostensible object of taking soundings along the coast. + +At a quarter to ten, escorted by a body of twelve stalwart men, he +met Isidore at the foot of the road that goes up the cliff. + +At ten o'clock exactly, they reached the skirt of wall. It was the +decisive moment. + +At ten o'clock exactly. + +"Why, what's the matter with you, Beautrelet?" jeered Ganimard. +"You're quite green in the face!" + +"It's as well you can't see yourself, Ganimard," the boy retorted. +"One would think your last hour had come!" + +They both had to sit down and Ganimard swallowed a few mouthfuls of +rum. + +"It's not funk," he said, "but, by Jove, this is an exciting +business! Each time that I'm on the point of catching him, it takes +me like that in the pit of the stomach. A dram of rum?" + +"No." + +"And if you drop behind?" + +"That will mean that I'm dead." + +"B-r-r-r-r! However, we'll see. And now, open, sesame! No danger of +our being observed, I suppose?" + +"No. The Needle is not so high as the cliff, and, besides, there's a +bend in the ground where we are." + +Beautrelet went to the wall and pressed upon the brick. The bolt was +released and the underground passage came in sight. + +By the gleam of the lanterns which they lit, they saw that it was +cut in the shape of a vault and that both the vaulting and the floor +itself were entirely covered with bricks. + +They walked for a few seconds and, suddenly, a staircase appeared. +Beautrelet counted forty-five brick steps, which the slow action of +many footsteps had worn away in the middle. + +"Blow!" said Ganimard, holding his head and stopping suddenly, as +though he had knocked against something. + +"What is it?" + +"A door." + +"Bother!" muttered Beautrelet, looking at it. "And not an easy one +to break down either. It's just a solid block of iron." + +"We are done," said Ganimard. "There's not even a lock to it." + +"Exactly. That's what gives me hope." + +"Why?" + +"A door is made to open; and, as this one has no lock, that means +that there is a secret way of opening it." + +"And, as we don't know the secret--" + +"I shall know it in a minute." + +"How?" + +"By means of the document. The fourth line has no other object but +to solve each difficulty as and when it crops up. And the solution +is comparatively easy, because it's not written with a view to +throwing searchers off the scent, but to assisting them." + +"Comparatively easy! I don't agree with you," cried Ganimard, who +had unfolded the document. "The number 44 and a triangle with a dot +in it: that doesn't tell us much!" + +"Yes, yes, it does! Look at the door. You see it's strengthened, at +each corner, with a triangular slab of iron; and the slabs are fixed +with big nails. Take the left-hand bottom slab and work the nail in +the corner: I'll lay ten to one we've hit the mark." + +"You've lost your bet," said Ganimard, after trying. + +"Then the figure 44 must mean--" + +In a low voice, reflecting as he spoke, Beautrelet continued: + +"Let me see--Ganimard and I are both standing on the bottom step of +the staircase--there are 45. Why 45, when the figure in the document +is 44? A coincidence? No. In all this business, there is no such +thing as a coincidence, at least not an involuntary one. Ganimard, +be so good as to move one step higher up. That's it, don't leave +this forty-fourth step. And now I will work the iron nail. And the +trick's done, or I'll eat my boots!" + +The heavy door turned on its hinges. A fairly spacious cavern +appeared before their eyes. + +"We must be exactly under Fort Frefosse," said Beautrelet. "We have +passed through the different earthy layers by now. There will be no +more brick. We are in the heart of the solid limestone." + +The room was dimly lit by a shaft of daylight that came from the +other end. Going up to it, they saw that it was a fissure in the +cliff, contrived in a projecting wall and forming a sort of +observatory. In front of them, at a distance of fifty yards, the +impressive mass of the Needle loomed from the waves. On the right, +quite close, was the arched buttress of the Porte d'Aval and, on the +left, very far away, closing the graceful curve of a large inlet, +another rocky gateway, more imposing still, was cut out of the +cliff; the Manneporte, [Footnote: Magna porta.] which was so wide +and tall that a three-master could have passed through it with all +sail set. Behind and everywhere, the sea. + +"I don't see our little fleet," said Beautrelet. + +"I know," said Ganimard. "The Porte d'Aval hides the whole of the +coast of Etretat and Yport. But look, over there, in the offing, +that black line, level with the water--" + +"Well?" + +"That's our fleet of war, Torpedo-boat No. 25. With her there, Lupin +is welcome to break loose--if he wants to study the landscape at the +bottom of the sea." + +A baluster marked the entrance to the staircase, near the fissure. +They started on their way down. From time to time, a little window +pierced the wall of the cliff; and, each time, they caught sight of +the Needle, whose mass seemed to them to grow more and more +colossal. + +A little before reaching high-water level, the windows ceased and +all was dark. + +Isidore counted the steps aloud. At the three hundred and fifty- +eight, they emerged into a wider passage, which was barred by +another iron door strengthened with slabs and nails. + +"We know all about this," said Beautrelet. "The document gives us +357 and a triangle dotted on the right. We have only to repeat the +performance." + +The second door obeyed like the first. A long, a very long tunnel +appeared, lit up at intervals by the gleam of a lantern swung from +the vault. The walls oozed moisture and drops of water fell to the +ground, so that, to make walking easier a regular pavement of planks +had been laid from end to end. + +"We are passing under the sea," said Beautrelet. "Are you coming, +Ganimard?" + +Without replying, the inspector ventured into the tunnel, followed +the wooden foot-plank and stopped before a lantern, which he took +down. + +"The utensils may date back to the Middle Ages, but the lighting is +modern," he said. "Our friends use incandescent mantles." + +He continued his way. The tunnel ended in another and a larger cave, +with, on the opposite side, the first steps of a staircase that led +upward. + +"It's the ascent of the Needle beginning," said Ganimard. "This is +more serious." + +But one of his men called him: + +"There's another flight here, sir, on the left." + +And, immediately afterward, they discovered a third, on the right. + +"The deuce!" muttered the inspector. "This complicates matters. If +we go by this way, they'll make tracks by that." + +"Shall we separate?" asked Beautrelet. + +"No, no--that would mean weakening ourselves. It would be better for +one of us to go ahead and scout." + +"I will, if you like--" + +"Very well, Beautrelet, you go. I will remain with my men--then +there will be no fear of anything. There may be other roads through +the cliff than that by which we came and several roads also through +the Needle. But it is certain that, between the cliff and the +Needle, there is no communication except the tunnel. Therefore they +must pass through this cave. And so I shall stay here till you come +back. Go ahead, Beautrelet, and be prudent: at the least alarm, +scoot back again." + +Isidore disappeared briskly up the middle staircase. At the +thirtieth step, a door, an ordinary wooden door, stopped him. He +seized the handle turned it. The door was not locked. + +He entered a room that seemed to him very low owing to its immense +size. Lit by powerful lamps and supported by squat pillars, with +long vistas showing between them, it had nearly the same dimensions +as the Needle itself. It was crammed with packing cases and +miscellaneous objects--pieces of furniture, oak settees, chests, +credence-tables, strong-boxes--a whole confused heap of the kind +which one sees in the basement of an old curiosity shop. + +On his right and left, Beautrelet perceived the wells of two +staircases, the same, no doubt, that started from the cave below. He +could easily have gone down, therefore, and told Ganimard. But a new +flight of stairs led upward in front of him and he had the curiosity +to pursue his investigations alone. + +Thirty more steps. A door and then a room, not quite so large as the +last, Beautrelet thought. And again, opposite him, an ascending +flight of stairs. + +Thirty steps more. A door. A smaller room. + +Beautrelet grasped the plan of the works executed inside the Needle. +It was a series or rooms placed one above the other and, therefore, +gradually decreasing in size. They all served as store-rooms. + +In the fourth, there was no lamp. A little light filtered in through +clefts in the walls and Beautrelet saw the sea some thirty feet +below him. + +At that moment, he felt himself so far from Ganimard that a certain +anguish began to take hold of him and he had to master his nerves +lest he should take to his heels. No danger threatened him, however, +and the silence around him was even so great that he asked himself +whether the whole Needle had not been abandoned by Lupin and his +confederates. + +"I shall not go beyond the next floor," he said to himself. + +Thirty stairs again and a door. This door was lighter in +construction and modern in appearance. He pushed it open gently, +quite prepared for flight. There was no one there. But the room +differed from the others in its purpose. There were hangings on the +walls, rugs on the floor. Two magnificent sideboards, laden with +gold and silver plate, stood facing each other. The little windows +contrived in the deep, narrow cleft were furnished with glass panes. + +In the middle of the room was a richly-decked table, with a lace- +edged cloth, dishes of fruits and cakes, champagne in decanters and +flowers, heaps of flowers. + +Three places were laid around the table. + +Beautrelet walked up. On the napkins were cards with the names of +the party. He read first: + +"Arsene Lupin." + +"Mme. Arsene Lupin." + +He took up the third card and started back with surprise. It bore +his own name: + +"Isidore Beautrelet!" + + + + +CHAPTER TEN + +THE TREASURES OF THE KINGS OF FRANCE + + +A curtain was drawn back. + +"Good morning, my dear Beautrelet, you're a little late. Lunch was +fixed for twelve. However, it's only a few minutes--but what's the +matter? Don't you know me? Have I changed so much?" + +In the course of his fight with Lupin, Beautrelet had met with many +surprises and he was still prepared, at the moment of the final +catastrophe, to experience any number of further emotions; but the +shock which he received this time was utterly unexpected. It was not +astonishment, but stupefaction, terror. The man who stood before +him, the man whom the brutal force of events compelled him to look +upon as Arsene Lupin, was--Valmeras! Valmeras, the owner of the +Chateau de l'Aiguille! Valmeras, the very man to whom he had applied +for assistance against Arsene Lupin! Valmeras, his companion on the +expedition to Crozant! Valmeras, the plucky friend who had made +Raymonde's escape possible by felling one of Lupin's accomplices, or +pretending to fell him, in the dusk of the great hall! And Valmeras +was Lupin! + +"You--you--So it's you!" he stammered. + +"Why not?" exclaimed Lupin. "Did you think that you knew me for good +and all because you had seen me in the guise of a clergyman or under +the features of M. Massiban? Alas, when a man selects the position +in society which I occupy, he must needs make use of his little +social gifts! If Lupin were not able to change himself, at will, +into a minister of the Church of England or a member of the Academy +of Inscriptions and Belles-Lettres, it would be a bad lookout for +Lupin! Now Lupin, the real Lupin, is here before you, Beautrelet! +Take a good look at him." + +"But then--if it's you--then--Mademoiselle--" + +"Yes, Beautrelet, as you say--" + +He again drew back the hanging, beckoned and announced: + +"Mme. Arsene Lupin." + +"Ah," murmured the lad, confounded in spite of everything, "Mlle. de +Saint-Veran!" + +"No, no," protested Lupin. "Mme. Arsene Lupin, or rather, if you +prefer, Mme. Louis Valmeras, my wedded wife, married to me in +accordance with the strictest forms of law; and all thanks to you, +my dear Beautrelet." + +He held out his hand to him. + +"All my acknowledgements--and no ill will on your side, I trust?" + +Strange to say, Beautrelet felt no ill will at all, no sense of +humiliation, no bitterness. He realized so strongly the immense +superiority of his adversary that he did not blush at being beaten +by him. He pressed the offered hand. + +"Luncheon is served, ma'am." + +A butler had placed a tray of dishes on the table. + +"You must excuse us, Beautrelet: my chef is away and we can only +give you a cold lunch." + +Beautrelet felt very little inclined to eat. He sat down, however, +and was enormously interested in Lupin's attitude. How much exactly +did he know? Was he aware of the danger he was running? Was he +ignorant of the presence of Ganimard and his men? + +And Lupin continued: + +"Yes, thanks to you, my dear friend. Certainly, Raymonde and I loved +each other from the first. Just so, my boy--Raymonde's abduction, +her imprisonment, were mere humbug: we loved each other. But neither +she nor I, when we were free to love, would allow a casual bond at +the mercy of chance, to be formed between us. The position, +therefore, was hopeless for Lupin. Fortunately, it ceased to be so +if I resumed my identity as the Louis Valmeras that I had been from +a child. It was then that I conceived the idea, as you refused to +relinquish your quest and had found the Chateau de l'Aiguille, of +profiting by your obstinacy." + +"And my silliness." + +"Pooh! Any one would have been caught as you were!" + +"So you were really able to succeed because I screened you and +assisted you?" + +"Of course! How could any one suspect Valmeras of being Lupin, when +Valmeras was Beautrelet's friend and after Valmeras had snatched +from Lupin's clutches the girl whom Lupin loved? And how charming it +was! Such delightful memories! The expedition to Crozant! The +bouquets we found! My pretended love letter to Raymonde! And, later, +the precautions which I, Valmeras, had to take against myself, +Lupin, before my marriage! And the night of your great banquet, +Beautrelet, when you fainted in my arms! Oh, what memories!" + +There was a pause. Beautrelet watched Raymonde. She had listened to +Lupin without saying a word and looked at him with eyes in which he +read love, passion and something else besides, something which the +lad could not define, a sort of anxious embarrassment and a vague +sadness. But Lupin turned his eyes upon her and she gave him an +affectionate smile. Their hands met over the table. + +"What do you say to the way I have arranged my little home, +Beautrelet?" cried Lupin. "There's a style about it, isn't there? I +don't pretend that it's as comfortable as it might be. And yet, some +have been quite satisfied with it; and not the least of mankind, +either!--Look at the list of distinguished people who have owned the +Needle in their time and who thought it an honor to leave a mark of +their sojourn." + +On the walls, one below the other, were carved the following names: + +JULIUS CAESAR +CHARLEMAGNE ROLLO +WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR +RICHARD COEUR-DE-LEON +LOUIS XI. +FRANCIS I. +HENRY IV. +LOUIS XIV. +ARSENE LUPIN + +"Whose name will figure after ours?" he continued. "Alas, the list +is closed! From Caesar to Lupin--and there it ends. Soon the +nameless mob will come to visit the strange citadel. And to think +that, but for Lupin, all this would have remained for ever unknown +to men! Ah Beautrelet, what a feeling of pride was mine on the day +when I first set foot on this abandoned soil. To have found the lost +secret and become its master, its sole master! To inherit such an +inheritance! To live in the Needle, after all those kings!--" + +He was interrupted by a gesture of his wife's. She seemed greatly +agitated. + +"There is a noise," she said. "Underneath us.--You can hear it." + +"It's the lapping of the water," said Lupin. + +"No, indeed it's not. I know the sound of the waves. This is +something different." + +"What would you have it be, darling?" said Lupin, smiling. "I +invited no one to lunch except Beautrelet." And, addressing the +servant, "Charolais, did you lock the staircase doors behind the +gentleman?" + +"Yes, sir, and fastened the bolts." + +Lupin rose: + +"Come, Raymonde, don't shake like that. Why, you're quite pale!" + +He spoke a few words to her in an undertone, as also to the servant, +drew back the curtain and sent them both out of the room. + +The noise below grew more distinct. It was a series of dull blows, +repeated at intervals. Beautrelet thought: + +"Ganimard has lost patience and is breaking down the doors." + +Lupin resumed the thread of his conversation, speaking very calmly +and as though he had really not heard: + +"By Jove, the Needle was badly damaged when I succeeded in +discovering it! One could see that no one had possessed the secret +for more than a century, since Louis XVI. and the Revolution. The +tunnel was threatening to fall in. The stairs were in a shocking +state. The water was trickling in from the sea. I had to prop up and +strengthen and rebuild the whole thing." + +Beautrelet could not help asking: + +"When you arrived, was it empty?" + +"Very nearly. The kings did not use the Needle, as I have done, as a +warehouse." + +"As a place of refuge, then?" + +"Yes, no doubt, in times of invasion and during the civil wars. But +its real destination was to be--how shall I put it?--the strong-room +or the bank of the kings of France." + +The sound of blows increased, more distinctly now. Ganimard must +have broken down the first door and was attacking the second. There +was a short silence and then more blows, nearer still. It was the +third door. Two remained. + +Through one of the windows, Beautrelet saw a number of fishing- +smacks sailing round the Needle and, not far away, floating on the +waters like a great black fish, the torpedo-boat. + +"What a row!" exclaimed Lupin. "One can't hear one's self speak! +Let's go upstairs, shall we? It may interest you to look over the +Needle." + +They climbed to the floor above, which was protected, like the +others, by a door which Lupin locked behind him. + +"My picture gallery," he said. + +The walls were covered with canvases on which Beautrelet recognized +the most famous signatures. There were Raphael's Madonna of the +Agnus Dei, Andrea del Sarto's Portrait of Lucrezia Fede, Titian's +Salome, Botticelli's Madonna and Angels and numbers of Tintorettos, +Carpaccios, Rembrandts, Velasquez. + +"What fine copies!" said Beautrelet, approvingly. + +Lupin looked at him with an air of stupefaction: + +"What! Copies! You must be mad! The copies are in Madrid, my dear +fellow, in Florence, Venice, Munich, Amsterdam." + +"Then these--" + +"Are the original pictures, my lad, patiently collected in all the +museums of Europe, where I have replaced them, like an honest man, +with first-rate copies." + +"But some day or other--" + +"Some day or other, the fraud will be discovered? Well, they will +find my signature on each canvas--at the back--and they will know +that it was I who have endowed my country with the original +masterpieces. After all, I have only done what Napoleon did in +Italy.--Oh, look, Beautrelet: here are M. de Gesvres's four +Rubenses!--" + +The knocking continued within the hollow of the Needle without +ceasing. + +"I can't stand this!" said Lupin. "Let's go higher." + +A fresh staircase. A fresh door. + +"The tapestry-room," Lupin announced. + +The tapestries were not hung on the walls, but rolled, tied up with +cord, ticketed; and, in addition, there were parcels of old fabrics +which Lupin unfolded: wonderful brocades, admirable velvets, soft, +faded silks, church vestments woven with silver and gold-- + +They went higher still and Beautrelet saw the room containing the +clocks and other time-pieces, the book-room--oh, the splendid +bindings, the precious, undiscoverable volumes, the unique copies +stolen from the great public libraries--the lace-room, the +knicknack-room. + +And each time the circumference of the room grew smaller. + +And each time, now, the sound of knocking was more distant. Ganimard +was losing ground. + +"This is the last room," said Lupin. "The treasury." + +This one was quite different. It was round also, but very high and +conical in shape. It occupied the top of the edifice and its floor +must have been fifteen or twenty yards below the extreme point of +the Needle. + +On the cliff side there was no window. But on the side of the sea, +whence there were no indiscreet eyes to fear, two glazed openings +admitted plenty of light. + +The ground was covered with a parqueted flooring of rare wood, +forming concentric patterns. Against the walls stood glass cases and +a few pictures. + +"The pearls of my collection," said Lupin. "All that you have seen +so far is for sale. Things come and things go. That's business. But +here, in this sanctuary, everything is sacred. There is nothing here +but choice, essential pieces, the best of the best, priceless +things. Look at these jewels, Beautrelet: Chaldean amulets, Egyptian +necklaces, Celtic bracelets, Arab chains. Look at these statuettes, +Beautrelet, at this Greek Venus, this Corinthian Apollo. Look at +these Tanagras, Beautrelet: all the real Tanagras are here. Outside +this glass case, there is not a single genuine Tanagra statuette in +the whole wide world. What a delicious thing to be able to say!-- +Beautrelet, do you remember Thomas and his gang of church-pillagers +in the South--agents of mine, by the way? Well, here is the Ambazac +reliquary, the real one, Beautrelet! Do you remember the Louvre +scandal, the tiara which was admitted to be false, invented and +manufactured by a modern artist? Here is the tiara of Saitapharnes, +the real one, Beautrelet! Look, Beautrelet, look with all your eyes: +here is the marvel of marvels, the supreme masterpiece, the work of +no mortal brain; here is Leonardo's Gioconda, the real one! Kneel, +Beautrelet, kneel; all womankind stands before you in this picture." + +There was a long silence between them. Below, the sound of blows +drew nearer. Two or three doors, no more, separated them from +Ganimard. In the offing, they saw the black back of the torpedo-boat +and the fishing-smacks cruising to and fro. + +The boy asked: + +"And the treasure?" + +"Ah, my little man, that's what interests you most! None of those +masterpieces of human art can compete with the contemplation of the +treasure as a matter of curiosity, eh?--And the whole crowd will be +like you!--Come, you shall be satisfied." + +He stamped his foot, and, in so doing, made one of the discs +composing the floor-pattern turn right over. Then, lifting it as +though it were the lid of a box, he uncovered a sort of large round +bowl, dug in the thickness of the rock. It was empty. + +A little farther, he went through the same performance. Another +large bowl appeared. It was also empty. + +He did this three times over again. The three other bowls were +empty. + +"Eh," grinned Lupin. "What a disappointment! Under Louis XL, under +Henry IV., under Richelieu, the five bowls were full. But think of +Louis XIV., the folly of Versailles, the wars, the great disasters +of the reign! And think of Louis XV., the spendthrift king, with his +Pompadour and his Du Barry! How they must have drawn on the treasure +in those days! With what thieving claws they must have scratched at +the stone. You see, there's nothing left." + +He stopped. + +"Yes, Beautrelet, there is something--the sixth hiding-place! This +one was intangible. Not one of them dared touch it. It was the very +last resource, the nest-egg, the something put by for a rainy day. +Look, Beautrelet!" + +He stooped and lifted up the lid. An iron box filled the bowl. Lupin +took from his pocket a key with a complicated bit and wards and +opened the box. + +A dazzling sight presented itself. Every sort of precious stone +sparkled there, every color gleamed, the blue of the sapphires, the +red of the rubies, the green of the emeralds, the yellow of the +topazes. + +"Look, look, little Beautrelet! They have squandered all the cash, +all the gold, all the silver, all the crown pieces and all the +ducats and all the doubloons; but the chest with the jewels has +remained intact. Look at the settings. They belong to every period, +to every century, to every country. The dowries of the queens are +here. Each brought her share: Margaret of Scotland and Charlotte of +Savoy; duchesses of Austria: Eleonore, Elisabeth, Marie-Therese, +Mary of England and Catherine de Medicis; and all the arch--Marie +Antoinette. Look at those pearls, Beautrelet! And those diamonds: +look at the size of the diamonds! Not one of them but is worthy of +an empress! The Pitt Diamond is no finer!" + +He rose to his feet and held up his hand as one taking an oath: + +"Beautrelet, you shall tell the world that Lupin has not taken a +single one of the stones that were in the royal chest, not a single +one, I swear it on my honor! I had no right to. They are the fortune +of France." + +Below them, Ganimard was making all speed. It was easy to judge by +the reverberation of the blows that his men were attacking the last +door but one, the door that gave access to the knicknack-room. + +"Let us leave the chest open," said Lupin, "and all the cavities, +too, all those little empty graves." + +He went round the room, examined some of the glass cases, gazed at +some of the pictures and, as he walked, said, pensively: + +"How sad it is to leave all this! What a wrench! The happiest hours +of my life have been spent here, alone, in the presence of these +objects which I loved. And my eyes will never behold them again and +my hands will never touch them again--" + +His drawn face bore such an expression of lassitude upon it that +Beautrelet felt a vague sort of pity for him. Sorrow in that man +must assume larger proportions than in another, even as joy did, or +pride, or humiliation. He was now standing by the window, and, with +his finger pointing to the horizon, said: + +"What is sadder still is that I must abandon that, all that! How +beautiful it is! The boundless sea--the sky.--On either side, the +cliffs of Etretat with their three natural archways: the Porte +d'Armont, the Porte d'Aval, the Manneporte--so many triumphal arches +for the master. And the master was I! I was the king of the story, +the king of fairyland, the king of the Hollow Needle! A strange and +supernatural kingdom! From Caesar to Lupin: what a destiny!" He +burst out laughing. "King of fairyland! Why not say King of Yvetot +at once? What nonsense! King of the world, yes, that's more like it! +From this topmost point of the Needle, I ruled the globe! I held it +in my claws like a prey! Lift the tiara of Saitapharnes, +Beautrelet.--You see those two telephones? The one on the right +communicates with Paris: a private line; the one on the left with +London: a private line. Through London, I am in touch with America, +Asia, Australia, South Africa. In all those continents, I have my +offices, my agents, my jackals, my scouts! I drive an international +trade. I hold the great market in art and antiquities, the world's +fair! Ah, Beautrelet, there are moments when my power turns my head! +I feel intoxicated with strength and authority." + +The door gave way below. They heard Ganimard and his men running +about and searching. + +After a moment, Lupin continued, in a low voice: + +"And now it's over. A little girl crossed my path, a girl with soft +hair and wistful eyes and an honest, yes, an honest soul--and it's +over. I myself am demolishing the mighty edifice.--All the rest +seems absurd and childish to me--nothing counts but her hair--and +her wistful eyes--and her honest little soul--" + +The men came up the staircase. A blow shook the door, the last door-- + +Lupin seized the boy sharply by the arm: + +"Do you understand, Beautrelet, why I let you have things your own +way when I could have crushed you, time after time, weeks ago? Do +you understand how you succeeded in getting as far as this? Do you +understand that I had given each of my men his share of the plunder +when you met them the other night on the cliff? You do understand, +don't you? The Hollow Needle is the great adventure. As long as it +belongs to me, I remain the great adventurer. Once the Needle is +recaptured, it means that the past and I are parted and that the +future begins, a future of peace and happiness, in which I shall +have no occasion to blush when Raymonde's eyes are turned upon me, a +future--" + +He turned furiously toward the door: + +"Stop that noise, Ganimard, will you? I haven't finished my speech!" + +The blows came faster. It was like the sound of a beam that was +being hurled against the door. Beautrelet, mad with curiosity, stood +in front of Lupin and awaited events, without understanding what +Lupin was doing or contemplating. To give up the Needle was all very +well; but why was he giving up himself? What was his plan? Did he +hope to escape from Ganimard? And, on the other hand, where was +Raymonde? + +Lupin, meantime, was murmuring, dreamily: + +"An honest man.--Arsene Lupin an honest man--no more robbery-- +leading the life of everybody else.--And why not? There is no reason +why I should not meet with the same success.--But do stop that now, +Ganimard! Don't you know, you ass, that I'm uttering historic words +and that Beautrelet is taking them in for the benefit of posterity?" +He laughed. "I am wasting my time. Ganimard will never grasp the use +of my historic words." + +He took a piece of red chalk, put a pair of steps to the wall and +wrote, in large letters: + + Arsene Lupin gives and bequeaths to France + all the treasures contained in the Hollow Needle, + on the sole condition that these treasures be housed + at the Musee du Louvre in rooms which shall be + known as the Arsene Lupin Rooms. + +"Now," he said, "my conscience is at ease. France and I are quits." + +The attackers were striking with all their might. One of the panels +burst in two. A hand was put through and fumbled for the lock. + +"Thunder!" said Lupin. "That idiot of a Ganimard is capable of +effecting his purpose for once in his life." + +He rushed to the lock and removed the key. + +"Sold, old chap!--The door's tough.--I have plenty of time-- +Beautrelet, I must say good-bye. And thank you!--For really you +could have complicated the attack--but you're so tactful!" + +While speaking, he moved toward a large triptych by Van der Weyden, +representing the Wise Men of the East. He shut the right-hand panel +and, in so doing, exposed a little door concealed behind it and +seized the handle. + +"Good luck to your hunting, Ganimard! And kind regards at home!" + +A pistol-shot resounded. Lupin jumped back: "Ah, you rascal, full in +the heart! Have you been taking lessons? You've done for the Wise +Man! Full in the heart! Smashed to smithereens, like a pipe at the +fair!--" + +"Lupin, surrender!" roared Ganimard, with his eyes glittering and +his revolver showing through the broken panel of the door. +"Surrender, I say!" + +"Did the old guard surrender?" + +"If you stir a limb, I'll blow your brains out!" + +"Nonsense! You can't get me here!" + +As a matter of fact, Lupin had moved away; and, though Ganimard was +able to fire straight in front of him through the breach in the +door, he could not fire, still less take aim, on the side where +Lupin stood. Lupin's position was a terrible one for all that, +because the outlet on which he was relying, the little door behind +the triptych, opened right in front of Ganimard. To try to escape +meant to expose himself to the detective's fire; and there were five +bullets left in the revolver. + +"By Jove," he said, laughing, "there's a slump in my shares this +afternoon! You've done a nice thing. Lupin, old fellow: you wanted a +last sensation and you've gone a bit too far. You shouldn't have +talked so much." + +He flattened himself against the wall. A further portion of the +panel had given way under the men's pressure and Ganimard was less +hampered in his movements. Three yards, no more, separated the two +antagonists. But Lupin was protected by a glass case with a gilt- +wood framework. + +"Why don't you help, Beautrelet?" cried the old detective, gnashing +his teeth with rage. "Why don't you shoot him, instead of staring at +him like that?" + +Isidore, in fact, had not budged, had remained, till that moment, an +eager, but passive spectator. He would have liked to fling himself +into the contest with all his strength and to bring down the prey +which he held at his mercy. He was prevented by some inexplicable +sentiment. + +But Ganimard's appeal for assistance shook him. His hand closed on +the butt of his revolver: + +"If I take part in it," he thought, "Lupin is lost. And I have the +right--it's my duty." + +Their eyes met. Lupin's were calm, watchful, almost inquisitive, as +though, in the awful danger that threatened him, he were interested +only in the moral problem that held the young man in its clutches. +Would Isidore decide to give the finishing stroke to the defeated +enemy? + +The door cracked from top to bottom. + +"Help, Beautrelet, we've got him!" Ganimard bellowed. + +Isidore raised his revolver. + +What happened was so quick that he knew of it, so to speak, only by +the result. He saw Lupin bob down and run along the wall, skimming +the door right under the weapon which Ganimard was vainly +brandishing; and he felt himself suddenly flung to the ground, +picked up the next moment and lifted by an invincible force. + +Lupin held him in the air, like a living shield, behind which he hid +himself. + +"Ten to one that I escape, Ganimard! Lupin, you see, has never quite +exhausted his resources--" + +He had taken a couple of brisk steps backward to the triptych. +Holding Beautrelet with one hand flat against his chest, with the +other he cleared the passage and closed the little door behind them. + +A steep staircase appeared before their eyes. + +"Come along," said Lupin, pushing Beautrelet before him. "The land +forces are beaten--let us turn our attention to the French fleet.-- +After Waterloo, Trafalgar.--You're having some fun for your money, +eh, my lad?--Oh, how good: listen to them knocking at the triptych +now!--It's too late, my children.--But hurry along, Beautrelet!" + +The staircase, dug out in the wall of the Needle, dug in its very +crust, turned round and round the pyramid, encircling it like the +spiral of a tobogganslide. Each hurrying the other, they clattered +down the treads, taking two or three at a bound. Here and there, a +ray of light trickled through a fissure; and Beautrelet carried away +the vision of the fishing-smacks hovering a few dozen fathoms off, +and of the black torpedo-boat. + +They went down and down, Isidore in silence, Lupin still bubbling +over with merriment: + +"I should like to know what Ganimard is doing? Is he tumbling down +the other staircases to bar the entrance to the tunnel against me? +No, he's not such a fool as that. He must have left four men there-- +and four men are sufficient--" He stopped. "Listen--they're shouting +up above. That's it, they've opened the window and are calling to +their fleet.--Why, look, the men are busy on board the smacks-- +they're exchanging signals.--The torpedo-boat is moving.--Dear old +torpedo-boat! I know you, you're from the Havre.--Guns' crews to the +guns!--Hullo, there's the commander!--How are you, Duguay-Trouin?" + +He put his arm through a cleft and waved his handkerchief. Then he +continued his way downstairs: + +"The enemy's fleet have set all sail," he said. "We shall be boarded +before we know where we are. Heavens, what fun!" + +They heard the sound of voices below them. They were just then +approaching the level of the sea and they emerged, almost at once, +into a large cave into which two lanterns were moving about in the +dark. + +A woman's figure appeared and threw itself on Lupin's neck: + +"Quick, quick, I was so nervous about you. What have you been +doing?--But you're not alone!--" + +Lupin reassured her: + +"It's our friend Beautrelet.--Just think, Beautrelet had the tact-- +but I'll talk about that later--there's no time now.--Charolais are +you there? That's right!--And the boat?" + +"The boat's ready, sir," Charolais replied, + +"Fire away," said Lupin. + +In a moment, the noise of a motor crackled and Beautrelet, whose +eyes were gradually becoming used to the gloom, ended by perceiving +that they were on a sort of quay, at the edge of the water, and that +a boat was floating before them. + +"A motor boat," said Lupin, completing Beautrelet's observations. +"This knocks you all of a heap, eh, Isidore, old chap?--You don't +understand.--Still, you have only to think.--As the water before +your eyes is no other than the water of the sea, which filters into +this excavation each high tide, the result is that I have a safe +little private roadstead all to myself." + +"But it's closed," Beautrelet protested. "No one can get in or out." + +"Yes, I can," said Lupin; "and I'm going to prove it to you." + +He began by handing Raymonde in. Then he came back to fetch +Beautrelet. The lad hesitated. + +"Are you afraid?" asked Lupin. + +"What of?" + +"Of being sunk by the torpedo-boat." + +"No." + +"Then you're considering whether it's not your duty to stay with +Ganimard, law and order, society and morality, instead of going off +with Lupin, shame, infamy and disgrace." + +"Exactly." + +"Unfortunately, my boy, you have no choice. For the moment, they +must believe the two of us dead--and leave me the peace to which a +prospective honest man is entitled. Later on, when I have given you +your liberty, you can talk as much as you please--I shall have +nothing more to fear." + +By the way in which Lupin clutched his arm, Beautrelet felt that all +resistance was useless. Besides, why resist? Had he not discovered +and handed over the Hollow Needle? What did he care about the rest? +Had he not the right to humor the irresistible sympathy with which, +in spite of everything, this man inspired him? + +The feeling was so clear in him that he was half inclined to say to +Lupin: + +"Look here, you're running another, a more serious danger; Holmlock +Shears is on your track." + +"Come along!" said Lupin, before Isidore had made up his mind to +speak. + +He obeyed and let Lupin lead him to the boat, the shape of which +struck him as peculiar and its appearance quite unexpected. + +Once on deck, they went down a little steep staircase, or rather a +ladder hooked on to a trap door, which closed above their heads. At +the foot of the ladder, brightly lit by a lamp, was a very small +saloon, where Raymonde was waiting for them and where the three had +just room to sit down. + +Lupin took the mouthpiece of a speaking tube from a hook and gave +the order: + +"Let her go, Charolais!" + +Isidore had the unpleasant sensation which one feels when going down +in a lift: the sensation of the ground vanishing beneath you, the +impression of emptiness, space. This time, it was the water +retreating; and space opened out, slowly. + +"We're sinking, eh?" grinned Lupin. "Don't be afraid--we've only to +pass from the upper cave where we were to another little cave, +situated right at the bottom and half open to the sea, which can be +entered at low tide. All the shellfish-catchers know it. Ah, ten +seconds' wait! We're going through the passage and it's very narrow, +just the size of the submarine." + +"But," asked Beautrelet, "how is it that the fishermen who enter the +lower cave don't know that it's open at the top and that it +communicates with another from which a staircase starts and runs +through the Needle? The facts are at the disposal of the first- +comer." + +"Wrong, Beautrelet! The top of the little public cave is closed, at +low tide, by a movable platform, painted the color of the rock, +which the sea, when it rises, shifts and carries up with it and, +when it goes down, fastens firmly over the little cave. That is why +I am able to pass at high tide. A clever notion, what? It's an idea +of my own. True, neither Caesar nor Louis XIV., nor, in short, any +of my distinguished predecessors could have had it, because they did +not possess submarines. They were satisfied with the staircase, +which then ran all the way down to the little bottom cave. I did +away with the last treads of the staircase and invented the trick of +the movable ceiling: it's a present I'm making to France--Raymonde, +my love, put out the lamp beside you--we shan't want it now--on the +contrary--" + +A pale light, which seemed to be of the same color as the water, met +them as they left the cave and made its way into the cabin through +the two portholes and through a thick glass skylight that projected +above the planking of the deck and allowed the passengers to inspect +the upper layers of the sea. And, suddenly, a shadow glided over +their heads. + +"The attack is about to take place. The fleet is investing the +Needle. But, hollow as the Needle is, I don't see how they propose +to enter it." + +He took up the speaking tube: + +"Don't leave the bottom, Charolais. Where are we going? Why, I told +you: to Port-Lupin. And at full speed, do you hear? We want water to +land by--there's a lady with us." + +They skimmed over the rocky bed. The seaweed stood up on end like a +heavy, dark vegetation and the deep currents made it wave +gracefully, stretching and billowing like floating hair. + +Another shadow, a longer one. + +"That's the torpedo-boat," said Lupin. "We shall hear the roar of +the guns presently. What will Duguay-Trouin do? Bombard the Needle? +Think of what we're missing, Beautrelet, by not being present at the +meeting of Duguay-Trouin and Ganimard! The juncture of the land and +naval forces! Hi, Charolais, don't go to sleep, my man!" + +They were moving very fast, for all that. The rocks had been +succeeded by sand-fields and then, almost at once, they saw more +rocks, which marked the eastern extremity of Etretat, the Porte +d'Amont. Fish fled at their approach. One of them, bolder than the +rest, fastened on to a porthole and looked at the occupants of the +saloon with its great, fixed, staring eyes. + +"That's better," cried Lupin. "We're going now. What do you think of +my cockle-shell, Beautrelet? Not so bad, is she? Do you remember the +story of the Seven of Hearts, [Footnote: The Exploits of Arsene +Lupin. By Maurice Leblanc. VI: The Seven of Hearts.] the wretched +end of Lacombe, the engineer, and how, after punishing his +murderers, I presented the State with his papers and his plans for +the construction of a new submarine: one more gift to France? Well, +among the plans, I kept those of a submersible motor boat and that +is how you come to have the honor of sailing in my company." + +He called to Charolais: + +"Take us up, Charolais--there's no danger now--" + +They shot up to the surface and the glass skylight emerged above the +water. + +They were a mile from the coast, out of sight, therefore, and +Beautrelet was now able to realize more fully at what a headlong +pace they were traveling. First Fecamp passed before them, then all +the Norman seaside places: Saint-Pierre, the Petits--Dalles, +Veulettes, Saint-Valery, Veules, Quiberville. Lupin kept on jesting +and Isidore never wearied of watching and listening to him, amazed +as he was at the man's spirits, at his gaiety, his mischievous ways, +his careless chaff, his delight in life. + +He also noticed Raymonde. The young woman sat silent, nestling up +against the man she loved. She had taken his hands between her own +and kept on raising her eyes to him; and Beautrelet constantly +observed that her hands were twitching and that the wistful sadness +of her eyes increased. And, each time, it was like a dumb and +sorrowful reply to Lupin's sallies. One would have thought that his +frivolous words, his sarcastic outlook on life, caused her physical +pain. + +"Hush!" she whispered. "It's defying destiny to laugh--so many +misfortunes can reach us still!" + +Opposite Dieppe, they had to dive lest they should be seen by the +fishing-craft. And twenty minutes later, they shot at an angle +toward the coast and the boat entered a little submarine harbor +formed by a regular gap between the rocks, drew up beside a jetty +and rose gently to the surface. + +Lupin announced: + +"Port-Lupin!" + +The spot, situated at sixteen miles from Dieppe and twelve from the +Treport and protected, moreover, by the two landslips of cliff, was +absolutely deserted. A fine sand carpeted the rounded slope of the +tiny beach. + +"Jump on shore, Beautrelet--Raymonde, give me your hand. You, +Charolais, go back to the Needle, see what happens between Ganimard +and Duguay-Trouin and come back and tell me at the end of the day. +The thing interests me tremendously." + +Beautrelet asked himself with a certain curiosity how they were +going to get out of this hemmed-in creek which was called Port- +Lupin, when, at the foot of the cliff, he saw the uprights of an +iron ladder. + +"Isidore," said Lupin, "if you knew your geography and your history, +you would know that we are at the bottom of the gorge of Parfonval, +in the parish of Biville. More than a century ago, on the night of +the twenty-third of August, 1803, Georges Cadoudal and six +accomplices, who had landed in France with the intention of +kidnapping the first consul, Bonaparte, scrambled up to the top by +the road which I will show you. Since then, this road has been +demolished by landslips. But Louis Valmeras, better known by the +name of Arsene Lupin, had it restored at his own expense and bought +the farm of the Neuvillette, where the conspirators spent the first +night and where, retired from business and withdrawing from the +affairs of this world, he means to lead the life of a respectable +country squire with his wife and his mother by his side. The +gentleman-burglar is dead! Long live the gentleman-farmer!" + +After the ladder came a sort of gully, an abrupt ravine hollowed +out, apparently, by the rains, at the end of which they laid hold of +a makeshift staircase furnished with a hand-rail. As Lupin +explained, this hand-rail had been placed where it was in the stead +of the estamperche, a long rope fastened to stakes, by which the +people of the country, in the old days, used to help themselves down +when going to the beach. + +After a painful climb of half an hour, they emerged on the +tableland, not far from one of those little cabins, dug out of the +soil itself, which serve as shelters for the excisemen. And, as it +happened, two minutes later, at a turn in the path, one of these +custom-house officials appeared. + +He drew himself up and saluted. + +Lupin asked: + +"Any news, Gomel?" + +"No, governor." + +"You've met no one at all suspicious-looking?" + +"No, governor--only--" + +"What?" + +"My wife--who does dressmaking at the Neuvillette--" + +"Yes, I know--Cesarine--my mother spoke of her. Well?" + +"It seems a sailor was prowling about the village this morning." + +"What sort of face had he?" + +"Not a natural face--a sort of Englishman's face." + +"Ah!" said Lupin, in a tone preoccupied. "And you have given +Cesarine orders--" + +"To keep her eyes open. Yes, governor." + +"Very well. Keep a lookout for Charolais's return in two or three +hours from now. If there's anything, I shall be at the farm." + +He walked on and said to Beautrelet: + +"This makes me uneasy--is it Shears? Ah, if it's he, in his present +state of exasperation, I have everything to fear!" + +He hesitated a moment: "I wonder if we hadn't better turn back. Yes, +I have a nasty presentiment of evil." + +Gently undulating plains stretched before them as far as the eye +could see. A little to the left, a series of handsome avenues of +trees led to the farm of the Neuvillette, the buildings of which +were now in view. It was the retreat which he had prepared, the +haven of rest which he had promised Raymonde. Was he, for the sake +of an absurd idea, to renounce happiness at the very moment when it +seemed within his reach? + +He took Isidore by the arm and, calling his attention to Raymonde, +who was walking in front of them: + +"Look at her. When she walks, her figure has a little swing at the +waist which I cannot see without quivering. But everything in her +gives me that thrill of emotion and love: her movements and her +repose, her silence and the sound of her voice. I tell you, the mere +fact that I am walking in the track of her footsteps makes me feel +in the seventh heaven. Ah, Beautrelet, will she ever forget that I +was once Lupin? Shall I ever be able to wipe out from her memory the +past which she loathes and detests?" He mastered himself and, with +obstinate assurance. "She will forget!" he declared. "She will +forget, because I have made every sacrifice for her sake. I have +sacrificed the inviolable sanctuary of the Hollow Needle, I have +sacrificed my treasures, my power, my pride--I will sacrifice +everything--I don't want to be anything more--but just a man in +love--and an honest man, because she can only love an honest man. +After all, why should I not be honest? It is no more degrading than +anything else!" + +The quip escaped him, so to speak, unawares. His voice remained +serious and free of all chaff. And he muttered, with restrained +violence: + +"Ah, Beautrelet, you see, of all the unbridled joys which I have +tasted in my adventurous life, there is not one that equals the joy +with which her look fills me when she is pleased with me. I feel +quite weak then, and I should like to cry--" Was he crying? +Beautrelet had an intuition that his eyes were wet with tears. Tears +in Lupin's eyes!--Tears of love! + +They were nearing an old gate that served as an entrance to the +farm. Lupin stopped for a moment and stammered: + +"Why am I afraid?--I feel a sort of weight on my chest. Is the +adventure of the Hollow Needle not over? Has destiny not accepted +the issue which I selected?" + +Raymonde turned round, looking very anxious. + +"Here comes Cesarine. She's running." + +The exciseman's wife was hurrying from the farm as fast as she +could. Lupin rushed up to her: + +"What is it? What has happened? Speak!" + +Choking, quite out of breath, Cesarine stuttered: + +"A man--I saw a man this morning! + +"A man--I saw a man in the sitting-room." + +"The Englishman of this morning?" + +"Yes--but in a different disguise." + +"Did he see you?" + +"No. He saw your mother. Mme. Valmeras caught him as he was just +going away." + +"Well?" + +"He told her that he was looking for Louis Valmeras, that he was a +friend of yours." + +"Then?" + +"The madame said that her son had gone abroad--for years." + +"And he went away?" + +"No, he made signs through the window that overlooks the plain--as +if he were calling to some one." + +Lupin seemed to hesitate. A loud cry tore the air. Raymonde moaned: + +"It's your mother--I recognize--" + +He flung himself upon her and, dragging her away, in a burst of +fierce passion: + +"Come--let us fly--you first." + +But, suddenly, he stopped, distraught, overcome: + +"No, I can't do it--it's too awful. Forgive me--Raymonde--that poor +woman down there--Stay here. Beautrelet, don't leave her." + +He darted along the slope that surrounds the farm, turned and +followed it, at a run, till he came to the gate that opens on the +plain. + +Raymonde, whom Beautrelet had been unable to hold back, arrived +almost as soon as he did; and Beautrelet, hiding behind the trees, +saw, in the lonely walk that led from the farm to the gate, three +men, of whom one, the tallest, went ahead, while the two others were +holding by the arms a woman who tried to resist and who uttered +moans of pain. + +The daylight was beginning to fade. Nevertheless, Beautrelet +recognized Holmlock Shears. The woman seemed of a certain age. Her +livid features were set in a frame of white hair. + +They all four came up. + +They reached the gate. Shears opened one of the folding leaves. + +Then Lupin strode forward and stood in front of him. + +The encounter appeared all the more terrible inasmuch as it was +silent, almost solemn. + +For long moments, the two enemies took each other's measure with +their eyes. An equal hatred distorted the features of both of them. +Neither moved. + +Then Lupin spoke, in a voice of terrifying calmness: + +"Tell your men to leave that woman alone." + +"No." + +It was as though both of them feared to engage in the supreme +struggle, as though both were collecting all their strength. And +there were no words wasted this time, no insults, no bantering +challenges. Silence, a deathlike silence. + +Mad with anguish, Raymonde awaited the issue of the duel. Beautrelet +had caught her arms and was holding her motionless. + +After a second, Lupin repeated: + +"Order your men to leave that woman alone." + +"No." + +Lupin said: + +"Listen, Shears--" + +But he interrupted himself, realizing the silliness of the words. In +the face of that colossus of pride and will-power which called +itself Holmlock Shears, of what use were threats? + +Resolved upon the worst, suddenly he put his hand to his jacket +pocket. The Englishman anticipated his movement and, leaping upon +his prisoner, thrust the barrel of his revolver within two inches of +her temple: + +"If you stir a limb, I fire!" + +At the same time his two satellites drew their weapons and aimed +them at Lupin. + +Lupin drew himself up, stifled the rage within him and, coolly, with +his hands in his pockets and his breast exposed to the enemy, began +once more: + +"Shears, for the third time, let that woman be--" + +The Englishman sneered: + +"I have no right to touch her, I suppose? Come, come, enough of this +humbug! Your name isn't Valmeras any more than it's Lupin: you stole +the name just as you stole the name of Charmerace. And the woman +whom you pass off as your mother is Victoire, your old accomplice, +the one who brought you up--" [FOOTNOTE: Arsene Lupin, play in four +acts, by Maurice Leblanc and Francis de Croisset.] + +Shears made a mistake. Carried away by his longing for revenge, he +glanced across at Raymonde, whom these revelations filled with +horror. Lupin took advantage of his imprudence. With a sudden +movement, he fired. + +"Damnation!" bellowed Shears, whose arm, pierced by a bullet, fell +to his side. And, addressing his men, "Shoot, you two! Shoot him +down!" + +But already Lupin was upon them: and not two seconds had elapsed +before the one on the right was sprawling on the ground, with his +chest smashed, while the other, with his jaw broken, fell back +against the gate. + +"Hurry up, Victoire. Tie them down. And now, Mr. Englishman, it's +you and I." + +He ducked with an oath: + +"Ah, you scoundrel!" + +Shears had picked up his revolver with his left hand and was taking +aim at him. + +A shot--a cry of distress--Raymonde had flung herself between the +two men, facing the Englishman. She staggered back, brought her hand +to her neck, drew herself up, spun round on her heels and fell at +Lupin's feet. + +"Raymonde!--Raymonde!" + +He threw himself upon her, took her in his arms and pressed her to +him. + +"Dead--" he said. + +There was a moment of stupefaction. Shears seemed confounded by his +own act. Victoire stammered: + +"My poor boy--my poor boy--" + +Beautrelet went up to the young woman and stooped to examine her. +Lupin repeated: + +"Dead--dead--" + +He said it in a reflective tone, as though he did not yet +understand. But his face became hollow, suddenly transformed, +ravaged by grief. And then he was seized with a sort of madness, +made senseless gestures, wrung his hands, stamped his feet, like a +child that suffers more than it is able to bear. + +"You villain!" he cried, suddenly, in an access of hatred. + +And, flinging Shears back with a formidable blow, he took him by the +throat and dug his twitching fingers into his flesh. + +The Englishman gasped, without even struggling. + +"My boy--my boy--" said Victoire, in a voice of entreaty. + +Beautrelet ran up. But Lupin had already let go and stood sobbing +beside his enemy stretched upon the ground. + +O pitiful sight! Beautrelet never forgot its tragic horror, he who +knew all Lupin's love for Raymonde and all that the great adventurer +had sacrificed of his own being to bring a smile to the face of his +well-beloved. + +Night began to cover the field of battle with a shroud of darkness. +The three Englishmen lay bound and gagged in the tall grass. Distant +songs broke the vast silence of the plain. It was the farm-hands +returning from their work. + +Lupin drew himself up. He listened to the monotonous voices. Then he +glanced at the happy homestead of the Neuvillette, where he had +hoped to live peacefully with Raymonde. Then he looked at her, the +poor, loving victim, whom love had killed and who, all white, was +sleeping her last, eternal sleep. + +The men were coming nearer, however. + +Then Lupin bent down, took the dead woman in his powerful arms, +lifted the corpse with a single effort and, bent in two, stretched +it across his back: + +"Let us go, Victoire." + +"Let us go, dear." + +"Good-bye, Beautrelet," he said. + +And, bearing his precious and awful burden followed by his old +servant, silent and fierce he turned toward the sea and plunged into +the darkness of the night. + +THE END + + + +The Project Gutenberg Etext of The Hollow Needle, by Maurice Leblanc + |