He said, bitterly:

"Ah, Clotilde, why did I ever mix you up in my adventurous life? I ought to have remained the Maxime Bermond whom you loved five years ago and not have let you know ... the other man that I am."

She whispered very low!

"I love that other man too; and I regret nothing."

"Yes, you regret your past life, your life in the light of day."

"I regret nothing, when you are there!" she said, passionately. "There is no such thing as guilt, no such thing as crime, when my eyes see you. What do I care if I am unhappy away from you and if I suffer and cry and loathe all that I do! Your love wipes out everything.... I accept everything.... But you must love me!"

"I do not love you because I must, Clotilde, but simply because I love you."

"Are you sure?" she asked, trustingly.

"I am as sure of myself as I am of you. Only, Clotilde, my life is a violent and feverish one and I cannot always give you as much time as I should wish."

She at once grew terrified.

"What is it? A fresh danger? Tell me, quick!"

"Oh, nothing serious as yet. Still...."

"Still what...?"

"Well, he is on our track."

"Shears?"

"Yes. It was he who set Ganimard at me at the Restaurant Hongrois. It was he who posted the two policemen in the Rue Chalgrin last night. The proof is that Ganimard searched the house this morning and Shears was with him. Besides...."

"Besides what?"

"Well, there is something more: one of our men is missing, Jeanniot."

"The concierge?"

"Yes."

"Why, I sent him to the Rue Chalgrin this morning to pick up some garnets which had fallen from my brooch."

"There is no doubt about it, Shears has caught him in a trap."

"Not at all. The garnets were brought to the jeweler in the Rue de la Paix."

"Then what has become of Jeanniot since?"

"Oh, Maxime, I'm so frightened!"

"There's no cause for alarm. But I admit that the position is very serious. How much does he know? Where is he hiding? His strength lies in his isolation. There is nothing to betray him."

"Then what have you decided on?"

"Extreme prudence, Clotilde. Some time ago I made up my mind to move my things to the refuge you know of, the safe refuge. The intervention of Shears hastens the need. When a man like Shears is on a trail, we may take it that he is bound to follow that trail to the end. So I have made all my preparations. The removal will take place on the day after to-morrow, Wednesday. It will be finished by midday. By two o'clock I shall be able myself to leave, after getting rid of the last vestige of our occupation, which is no small matter. Until then ..."

"Yes...?"

"We must not see each other and no one must see you, Clotilde. Don't go out. I fear nothing for myself. But I fear everything where you're concerned."

"It is impossible for that Englishman to get at me."

"Everything is possible to him and I am not easy in my mind. Yesterday, when I was nearly caught by your father, I had come to search the cupboard which contains M. Destange's old ledgers. There is danger there. There is danger everywhere. I feel that the enemy is prowling in the shade and drawing nearer and nearer. I know that he is watching us ... that he is laying his nets around us. It is one of those intuitions which never fail me."

"In that case," said she, "go, Maxime, and think no more about my tears. I shall be brave and I will wait until the danger is over. Good-bye, Maxime."

She gave him a long kiss. And she herself pushed him outside. Shears heard the sound of their voices grow fainter in the distance.

Boldly, excited by the need of action, toward and against everything, which had been stimulating him since the day before, he made his way to a passage, at the end of which was a staircase. But, just as he was going down, he heard the sound of a conversation below and thought it better to follow a circular corridor which brought him to another staircase. At the foot of this staircase, he was greatly surprised to see furniture the shape and position of which he already knew. A door stood half open. He entered a large round room. It was M. Destange's library.

"Capital! Splendid!" he muttered. "I understand everything now. The boudoir of Clotilde, that is to say, the blonde lady, communicates with one of the flats in the next house and the door of that house is not in the Place Malesherbes, but in an adjoining street, the Rue Montchanin, if I remember right.... Admirable! And now I see how Clotilde Destange slips out to meet her sweetheart while keeping up the reputation of a person who never leaves the house. And I also see how Arsene Lupin popped out close to me, yesterday evening, in the gallery: there must be another communication between the flat next door and this library...." And he concluded, "Another faked house. Once again, no doubt, 'Destange, architect!' And what I must now do is to take advantage of my presence here to examine the contents of the cupboard ... and obtain all the information I can about the other faked houses."

Shears went up to the gallery and hid behind the hangings of the rail. He stayed there till the end of the evening. A man-servant came to put out the electric lights. An hour later, the Englishman pressed the spring of his lantern and went down to the cupboard. As he knew, it contained the architect's old papers, files, plans, estimates and account-books. At the back stood a row of ledgers, arranged in chronological order.

He took down the more recent volumes one by one and at once looked through the index-pages, more particularly under the letter H. At last, finding the word "Harmingeat" followed by the number 63, he turned up page 63 and read:

"Harmingeat, 40, Rue Chalgrin."

There followed a detailed statement of works executed for this customer, with a view to the installation of a central heating-apparatus in his property. And in the margin was this note:

"See file M. B."

"I knew it," muttered Shears. "File M. B. is the one I want. When I have been through that, I shall know the whereabouts of M. Lupin's present abode."

The small hours had struck before he found file M. B. It consisted of fifteen pages. One was a copy of the page concerning M. Harmingeat of the Rue Chalgrin. Another contained a detailed account of works executed for M. Vatinel, the owner of 25, Rue Clapeyron. A third was devoted to Baron d'Hautrec, 134, Avenue Henri-Martin; a fourth to the Chateau de Crozon; and the eleven others to different Paris landlords.

Shears took down the list of eleven names and addresses and then restored the papers to their place, opened a window and jumped out into the deserted square, taking care to close the shutters behind him.

On reaching his room at the hotel, he lit his pipe with the gravity which he always applied to that ceremony and, enveloped in clouds of smoke, studied the conclusions to be drawn from file M. B., or, to be more exact, the file devoted to Maxime Bermond, alias Arsene Lupin.

At eight o'clock, he sent Ganimard an express letter:

"I shall probably call on you in the Rue Pergolese this morning and place in your charge a person whose capture is of the highest importance. In any case, stay at home to-night and until twelve o'clock to-morrow, Wednesday, morning; and arrange to have thirty men at your disposal."

Then he went down the boulevard, picked out a motor-cab with a driver whose good-humoured but unintelligent face took his fancy and drove to the Place Malesherbes, fifty yards beyond the Hotel Destange.

"Close the hood, my man," he said, to the driver, "turn up the collar of your fur, for it's a cold wind, and wait for me patiently. Start your engine in an hour and a half from now. The moment I get in again, drive straight to the Rue Pergolese."

With his foot on the doorstep of the house, he had a last moment of hesitation. Was it not a mistake to take so much trouble about the blonde lady, when Lupin was completing his preparations for departure? And would he not have done better, with the aid of his list of houses, to begin by finding out where his adversary lived?

"Pooh!" he said. "When the blonde lady is my prisoner, I shall be master of the situation."

And he rang the bell.

* * * * *

He found M. Destange waiting in the library. They worked together for a little while and Shears was seeking a pretext to go up to Clotilde's room, when the girl entered, said good-morning to her father, sat down in the little drawing-room and began to write letters.

From where he was sitting, Shears could see her as she bent over the table and, from time to time, meditated with poised pen and a thoughtful face. He waited and then, taking up a volume, said to M. Destange:

"Oh, this is the book which Mlle. Destange asked me to give her when I found it."

He went into the little room, stood in front of Clotilde, in such a way that her father could not see her, and said:

"I am M. Stickmann, M. Destange's new secretary."

"Oh?" she said, without moving. "Has my father changed his secretary?"

"Yes, mademoiselle, and I should like to speak to you."

"Take a seat, monsieur; I have just finished."

She added a few words to her letter, signed it, sealed the envelope, pushed back her papers, took up the telephone, asked to be put on to her dressmaker, begged her to hurry on a travelling-cloak which she needed urgently and then, turning to Shears:

"I am at your service, monsieur. But cannot our conversation take place before my father?"

"No, mademoiselle, and I will even entreat you not to raise your voice. It would be better that M. Destange should not hear us."

"Better for whom?"

"For you, mademoiselle."

"I will not permit a conversation which my father cannot hear."

"And yet you must permit this one."

They both rose, with their eyes fixed on each other. And she said:

"Speak, monsieur."

Still standing, he began:

"You must forgive me if I am inaccurate in a few less important particulars. I will vouch for the general correctness of what I am going to say."

"No speeches, I beg. Facts."

He felt, from this abrupt interruption, that the girl was on her guard and he continued:

"Very well, I will come straight to the point. Five years ago, your father happened to meet a M. Maxime Bermond, who introduced himself as a contractor ... or an architect, I am not sure which. In any case, M. Destange took a liking to this young man and, as the state of his health no longer allowed him to attend to his business, he entrusted to M. Bermond the execution of a few orders which he had accepted to please some old customers and which appeared to him to come within the scope of his assistant's capacity."

Shears stopped. It seemed to him that the girl had grown paler. Still, she answered with the greatest calmness.

"I know nothing of the things about which you are talking, monsieur, and I am quite unable to see how they can interest me."

"They interest you in so far, mademoiselle, that M. Maxime Bermond's real name, which you know as well as I do, is Arsene Lupin."

She burst out laughing:

"Nonsense! Arsene Lupin? M. Maxime Bermond's name is Arsene Lupin?"

"As I have the honour to inform you, mademoiselle, and, since you refuse to understand me unless I speak plainly, I will add that Arsene Lupin, to accomplish his designs, has found in this house a friend, more than a friend, a blind and ... passionately devoted accomplice."

She rose and, betraying no emotion or, at least, so little emotion that Shears was impressed by her extraordinary self-control, said:

"I do not know the reason for your behaviour, monsieur, and I have no wish to know it. I will ask you, therefore, not to add another word and to leave the room."

"I had no intention, mademoiselle, of imposing my presence upon you indefinitely," said Shears, as calmly as herself. "Only I have resolved not to leave this house alone."

"And who is going with you, monsieur?"

"You!"

"I?"

"Yes, mademoiselle, we shall leave this house together, and you will accompany me without a word, without a protest."

The strange feature of this scene was the absolute coolness of the two adversaries. To judge by their attitudes and the tone of their voices, it might have been a courteous discussion between two people who differ in opinion, rather than an implacable duel between two powerful wills.

Through the great open recess, M. Destange could be seen in the round library, handling his books with leisurely movements.

Clotilde sat down again with a slight shrug of the shoulders. Holmlock Shears took out his watch:

"It is now half-past ten. We will start in five minutes."

"And, if I refuse?"

"If you refuse, I shall go to M. Destange and tell him ..."

"What?"

"The truth. I shall describe to him the false life led by Maxime Bermond and the double life of his accomplice."

"Of his accomplice?"

"Yes, of the one known as the blonde lady, the lady whose hair was once fair."

"And what proofs will you give him?"

"I shall take him to the Rue Chalgrin and show him the passage which Arsene Lupin, when managing the works, made his men construct between Nos. 40 and 42, the passage employed by the two of you on the night before last."

"Next?"

"Next, I shall take M. Destange to Maitre Detinan's. We will go down the servants' staircase which you ran down, with Arsene Lupin, to escape Ganimard. And we will both look for the doubtless similar means of communication with the next house, which has its entrance on the Boulevard des Batignolles and not in the Rue Clapeyron."

"Next?"

"Next, I shall take M. Destange to the Chateau de Crozon and it will be easy for him, who knows the nature of the works executed by Arsene Lupin at the time of the restoration of the Chateau, to discover the secret passages which Arsene Lupin made his men construct. He will find that these passages enabled the blonde lady to enter Madame de Crozon's room at night and take the blue diamond from the chimney and, a fortnight later, to enter Herr Bleichen's room and hide the blue diamond at the bottom of a flask ... a rather queer thing to do, I admit: perhaps it was a woman's petty vengeance; I do not know and it makes no difference."

"Next?"

"Next," said Holmlock Shears, in a more serious voice, "I shall take M. Destange to 134, Avenue Henri-Martin, and together we will try to discover how Baron d'Hautrec...."

"Hush, hush!" stammered the girl, in sudden dismay. "You must not...! Do you dare to say it was I...? Do you accuse me...?"

"I accuse you of killing Baron d'Hautrec."

"No, no; this is monstrous!"

"You killed Baron d'Hautrec, mademoiselle. You entered his service under the name of Antoinette Brehat, with the intention of robbing him of the blue diamond, and you killed him."

Again she murmured, breaking down and reduced to entreaties:

"Hush, monsieur, I beg.... As you know so much, you must also know that I did not murder the baron."

"I did not say that you murdered him, mademoiselle. Baron d'Hautrec was subject to fits of insanity which only Soeur Auguste was able to check. She has told me this herself. He must have thrown himself upon you in her absence; and it was in the course of the ensuing struggle that you struck at him, in self-defence. Appalled by what you had done, you rang the bell and fled, without even taking from his finger the blue diamond which you had come to secure. A moment later, you returned with one of Lupin's accomplices, a man-servant in the next house, lifted the baron on to his bed and arranged the room ... but still without daring to take the blue diamond. That's what happened. Therefore, I repeat, you did not murder the baron. And yet it was your hands that killed him."

She was holding them clasped before her forehead, her slim, white, delicate hands, and she kept them long like that, motionless. Then, uncrossing her fingers, she showed her sorrow-stricken face and said:

"And you mean to tell all this to my father?"

"Yes; and I shall tell him that I have as witnesses Mlle. Gerbois, who will recognize the blonde lady, Soeur Auguste, who will recognize Antoinette Brehat, the Comtesse de Crozon, who will recognize Mme. de Real. That is what I shall tell him."

"You will not dare!" she said, recovering her presence of mind, in the face of immediate danger.

He rose and took a step toward the library. Clotilde stopped him:

"One moment, monsieur."

She reflected and, now fully mistress of herself, asked, very calmly:

"You are Holmlock Shears, are you not?"

"Yes."

"What do you want with me?"

"What do I want? I have entered upon a contest with Arsene Lupin from which I must emerge the winner. Pending a result which cannot be far distant, I am of opinion that a hostage as valuable as yourself will give me a considerable advantage over my adversary. You shall go with me, therefore, mademoiselle, and I will place you under the care of a friend of mine. As soon as my object is attained, you shall be set free."

"Is that all?"

"That is all. I do not belong to the police of your country and consequently I claim no ... no justiciary rights."

Her mind appeared made up. However, she asked for a moment's delay. Her eyelids closed and Shears stood watching her, suddenly grown calm, almost indifferent to the perils that threatened her.

"I wonder," thought the Englishman, "if she believes herself to be in danger? Probably not, with Lupin to protect her. With Lupin there, nothing can happen to her, she thinks: Lupin is omnipotent, Lupin is infallible.... Mademoiselle," he said aloud, "I spoke of five minutes: it is now more than thirty."

"May I go to my room, monsieur, and fetch my things?"

"If you like, mademoiselle, I will go and wait for you in the Rue Montchanin. I am a great friend of Jeanniot, the concierge."

"Ah, so you know...!" she said, with visible dismay.

"I know a great many things."

"Very well. Then I will ring."

The servant brought her hat and cloak and Shears said:

"You must give M. Destange some reason to explain our departure and the reason must be enough, in case of need, to explain your absence for two or three days."

"That is unnecessary. I shall be back presently."

Again, they exchanged a defiant glance, skeptical, both of them, and smiling.

"How you trust him!" said Shears.

"Blindly."

"Whatever he does is right, is it not? Whatever he wishes is realized. And you approve of everything and are prepared to do everything for his sake."

"I love him," she said, with a tremor of passion.

"And you believe that he will save you?"

She shrugged her shoulders and, going up to her father, told him:

"I am robbing you of M. Stickmann. We are going to the National Library."

"Will you be back to lunch?"

"Perhaps ... or more likely not ... but don't worry about me, in any case...."

And, in a firm voice, she said to Shears:

"I am ready, monsieur."

"Without reserve?" he whispered.

"With my eyes closed."

"If you try to escape, I shall shout and call for help, you will be arrested and it will mean prison. Don't forget that there is a warrant out against the blonde lady."

"I swear to you on my honour that I will make no attempt to escape."

"I believe you. Let us go."

They left the house together, as he had foretold.

* * * * *

The motor-cab had turned round and was waiting in the square. They could see the driver's back and his cap, which was almost covered by the upturned collar of his fur. As they approached, Shears heard the humming of the engine. He opened the door, asked Clotilde to step in and sat down beside her.

The car started with a jerk and soon reached the outer boulevards, the Avenue Hoche, the Avenue de la Grande-Armee.

Shears was thinking out his plans:

"Ganimard is at home.... I shall leave the girl with him.... Shall I tell him who she is? No, he would take her straight to the police-station, which would put everything out. As soon as I am alone, I will consult the M. B. list and set out on my chase. And, to-night, or to-morrow morning at latest, I shall go to Ganimard, as arranged, and deliver Arsene Lupin and his gang to him."

He rubbed his hands, glad to feel that his object was at last within his reach and to see that there was no serious obstacle in the way. And, yielding to a need for expansion, which was not in keeping with his usual nature, he said:

"Forgive me, mademoiselle, for displaying so much satisfaction. It was a difficult fight and I find my success particularly agreeable."

"A legitimate success, monsieur, in which you have every right to rejoice."

"Thank you. But what a funny way we are going! Didn't the man understand?"

At that moment, they were leaving Paris by the Porte de Neuilly. What on earth!... After all, the Rue Pergolese was not outside the fortifications!

Shears let down the glass:

"I say, driver, you're going wrong.... Rue Pergolese!..."

The man made no reply. Shears repeated, in a louder voice:

"I'm telling you to go to the Rue Pergolese."

The man took no notice.

"Look here, my man, are you deaf? Or are you doing it on purpose?... This isn't where I told you to go.... Rue Pergolese, do you hear!... Turn round at once and look sharp about it!"

Still no reply. The Englishman began to be alarmed. He looked at Clotilde: a queer smile was playing on the girl's lips.

"What are you laughing at?" he stormed. "This doesn't affect ... it has nothing to say to...."

"Nothing in the very least," she replied.

Suddenly, he was taken aback by an idea. Half rising from his seat, he attentively scrutinized the man on the box. His shoulders were slimmer, his movements easier.... A cold sweat broke out on Shears's forehead, his hands contracted, while the most hideous conviction forced itself upon his mind: the man was Arsene Lupin.

* * * * *

"Well, Mr. Shears, what do you think of this little drive?"

"It's delightful, my dear sir, really delightful," replied Shears.

Perhaps he had never in his life made a more tremendous effort than it cost him to utter those words without a tremor in his voice, without anything that could betray the exasperation that filled his whole being. But, the minute after, he was carried away by a sort of formidable reaction; and a torrent of rage and hatred burst its banks, overcame his will, and made him suddenly draw his revolver and point it at Mlle. Destange.

"Lupin, if you don't stop this minute, this second, I fire at mademoiselle!"

"I advise you to aim at the cheek if you want to hit the temple," said Lupin, without turning his head.

Clotilde called out:

"Don't go too fast, Maxime! The pavement is very slippery, and you know how timid I am!"

She was still smiling, with her eyes fixed on the cobbles with which the road bristled in front of the car.

"Stop him, tell him to stop!" shouted Shears beside himself with fury. "You can see for yourself that I am capable of anything!"

The muzzle of the revolver grazed her hair.

"How reckless Maxime is!" she murmured. "We are sure to skid, at this rate."

Shears replaced the revolver in his pocket and seized the handle of the door, preparing to jump out, in spite of the absurdity of the act.

"Take care, Mr. Shears," said Clotilde. "There's a motor-car behind us."

He leant out. A car was following them, an enormous car, fierce-looking, with its pointed bonnet, blood-red in colour, and the four men in furs inside it.

"Ah," he said, "I'm well guarded! We must have patience!"

He crossed his arms on his chest, with the proud submission of those who bow and wait when fate turns against them. And while they crossed the Seine and tore through Suresnes, Rueil and Chatou, motionless and resigned, without anger or bitterness, he thought only of discovering by what miracle Arsene Lupin had put himself in the driver's place. That the decent fellow whom he had picked out that morning on the boulevard could be an accomplice, posted there of set purpose, he refused to admit. And yet Arsene Lupin must have received a warning and that only after the moment when he, Shears, had threatened Clotilde, for no one suspected his plan before. Now from that moment Clotilde and he had not left each other's presence.

Suddenly, he remembered the girl's telephoning to her dressmaker. And, all at once, he understood. Even before he spoke, at the very moment when he asked for an interview as M. Destange's new secretary, she had scented danger, guessed the visitor's name and object and, coolly, naturally, as though she were really doing what she appeared to do, had summoned Lupin to her aid, under the pretense of speaking to one of her tradespeople and by means of a formula known to themselves alone.

How Arsene Lupin had come, how that motor-cab in waiting, with its throbbing engine, had aroused his suspicion, how he had bribed the driver: all this mattered little. What interested Shears almost to the point of calming his rage was the recollection of that moment in which a mere woman, a woman in love, it is true, mastering her nerves, suppressing her instinct, controlling the features of her face and the expression of her eyes, had humbugged old Holmlock Shears.

What was he to do against a man served by such allies, a man who, by the sheer ascendancy of his authority, inspired a woman with such a stock of daring and energy?

They re-crossed the Seine and climbed the slope of Saint-Germain; but, five hundred yards beyond the town, the cab slowed down. The other car came up with it and the two stopped alongside. There was no one about.

"Mr. Shears," said Lupin, "may I trouble you to change cars? Ours is really so very slow!..."

"Certainly," said Shears, all the more politely, as he had no choice.

"Will you also permit me to lend you this fur, for we shall be going pretty fast, and to offer you a couple of sandwiches?... Yes, yes, take them: there's no telling when you will get any dinner."

The four men had alighted. One of them came up and, as he had taken off the goggles which disguised him, Shears recognized the gentleman in the frock-coat whom he had seen at the Restaurant Hongrois. Lupin gave him his instructions:

"Take the cab back to the driver from whom I hired it. You will find him waiting in the first wine-shop on the right in the Rue Legendre. Pay him the second thousand francs I promised him. Oh, I was forgetting: you might give Mr. Shears your goggles!"

He spoke a few words to Mlle. Destange, then took his seat at the wheel and drove off, with Shears beside him and one of his men behind.

Lupin had not exaggerated when saying that they would go "pretty fast." They travelled at a giddy pace from the first. The horizon rushed toward them, as though attracted by a mysterious force, and disappeared at the same moment, as though swallowed up by an abyss into which other things—trees, houses, plains and forests—plunged with the tumultuous speed of a torrent rushing down to the pool below.

Shears and Lupin did not exchange a word. Above their heads, the leaves of the poplars made a great noise as of waves, punctuated by the regular spacing of the trees. And town after town vanished from sight: Mantes, Vernon, Gaillon. From hill to hill, from Bon-Secours to Canteleu, Rouen, with her suburbs, her harbour, her miles upon miles of quays, Rouen seemed no more than the high-street of a market-town. And they rushed through Duclair, through Caudebec, through the Pays de Caux, skimming over its hills and plains in their powerful flight, through Lillebonne, through Quille-beuf. And, suddenly, they were on the bank of the Seine, at the end of a small quay, alongside which lay a steam-yacht, built on sober and powerful lines, with black smoke curling up from her funnel.

The car stopped. They had covered over a hundred miles in two hours.

* * * * *

A man dressed in a blue pea-jacket came forward and touched his gold-laced cap.

"Well done, captain!" said Lupin. "Did you get my telegram?"

"Yes, sir."

"Is the Hirondelle ready?"

"Quite ready, sir."

"In that case, Mr. Shears...?"

The Englishman looked around him, saw a group of people seated outside a cafe, another a little nearer, hesitated for a moment and then, realizing that, before any one could interfere, he would be seized, forced on board and packed off at the bottom of the hold, he crossed the foot-plank and followed Lupin into the captain's cabin.

It was roomy, specklessly clean and shone brightly with its varnished wainscoting and gleaming brass.

Lupin closed the door and, without beating about the bush, said to Shears, almost brutally:

"Tell me exactly how much you know."

"Everything."

"Everything? I want details."

His voice had lost the tone of politeness, tinged with irony, which he adopted toward the Englishman. Instead, it rang with the imperious accent of the master who is accustomed to command and accustomed to see every one bow before his will, even though it be a Holmlock Shears.

They eyed each other now from head to foot as enemies, declared and passionate enemies.

Lupin resumed, with a touch of nervousness:

"You have crossed my path, sir, on several occasions. Each occasion has been one too many; and I am tired of wasting my time avoiding the traps you lay for me. I warn you, therefore, that my conduct toward you will depend upon your answer. How much exactly do you know?"

"Everything, I tell you."

Arsene Lupin mastered his annoyance and jerked out:

"I will tell you what you know. You know that, under the name of Maxime Bermond, I ... 'touched up' fifteen houses built by M. Destange."

"Yes."

"Of those fifteen houses, you know four."

"Yes."

"And you have a list of the eleven others."

"Yes."

"You made out the list at M. Destange's, last night, no doubt."

"Yes."

"And, as you presume that, among those eleven properties, there must inevitably be one which I keep for my own needs and those of my friends, you have instructed Ganimard to take the field and discover my retreat."

"No."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I am acting alone and that I intended to take the field alone."

"So I have nothing to fear, seeing that I have you in my hands."

"You have nothing to fear so long as I remain in your hands."

"You mean to say that you will not remain?"

"I do."

Arsene Lupin went up to Holmlock Shears and placed his hand very gently on the Englishman's shoulder:

"Listen to me, sir. I am not in the mood for argument and you, unfortunately for yourself, are not in a position to check me. Let us put an end to this."

"Yes, let us."

"You shall give me your word of honour not to attempt to escape from this boat until she reaches English waters."

"I give you my word of honour that I shall attempt to escape by every means in my power," said Shears, nothing daunted.

"But, dash it all, you know I have only to speak a word to reduce you to helplessness! All these men obey me blindly. At a sign from me, they will put a chain round your neck...."

"Chains can be broken."

"And throw you overboard at ten miles from the coast."

"I can swim."

"Well said," cried Lupin, laughing. "Heaven forgive me, but I lost my temper! Accept my apology, maitre ... and let us conclude. Will you allow me to seek the necessary measures for my safety and that of my friends?"

"Any measures you like. But they are useless."

"Agreed. Still, you will not mind if I take them?"

"It's your duty."

"To work, then."

Lupin opened the door and called the captain and two of the crew. The latter seized the Englishman and, after searching him, bound his legs together and tied him down in the captain's berth.

"That will do," ordered Lupin. "Really, sir, nothing short of your obstinancy and the exceptional gravity of the circumstances would have allowed me to venture...."

The sailors withdrew. Lupin said to the captain:

"Captain, one of the crew must remain in the cabin to wait on Mr. Shears and you yourself must keep him company as much as you can. Let him be treated with every consideration. He is not a prisoner, but a guest. What is the time by your watch, captain?"

"Five minutes past two."

Lupin looked at his own watch and at a clock which hung on the cabin-wall:

"Five minutes past two?... Our watches agree. How long will it take you to reach Southampton?"

"Nine hours, without hurrying."

"Make it eleven. You must not touch land before the departure of the steamer which leaves Southampton at midnight and is due at the Havre at eight in the morning. You understand, captain, do you not? I repeat: it would be exceedingly dangerous for us all if this gentleman returned to France by the steamer; and you must not arrive at Southampton before one o'clock in the morning."

"Very well, sir."

"Good-bye, maitre," said Lupin, turning to Shears. "We shall meet next year, in this world or another."

"Let's say to-morrow."

A few minutes later, Shears heard the car drive away and the engines of the Hirondelle at once began to throb with increased force. The yacht threw off her moorings. By three o'clock they had left the estuary of the Seine and entered the Channel. At that moment, Holmlock Shears lay sound asleep in the berth to which he was fastened down.

* * * * *

On the following morning, the tenth and last day of the war between the two great rivals, the Echo de France published this delicious paragraph:

"A decree of expulsion was pronounced by Arsene Lupin yesterday against Holmlock Shears, the English detective. The decree was published at noon and executed on the same day. Shears was landed at Southampton at one o'clock this morning."



CHAPTER VI

THE SECOND ARREST OF ARSENE LUPIN

By eight o'clock on Wednesday morning, a dozen pantechnicon vans were blocking the Rue Crevaux from the Avenue du Bois de Boulogne to the Avenue Bougeaud. M. Felix Davey was leaving the flat which he occupied on the fourth floor of No. 8. And, by a sheer coincidence—for the two gentlemen were not acquainted—M. Dubreuil, the expert, who had knocked into one the fifth-floor flat of No. 8 and the fifth-floor flats of the two adjoining houses, had selected the same day on which to send off the collection of furniture and antiques which used to be visited daily by one or other of his many foreign correspondents.

A peculiarity which attracted notice in the neighbourhood, but which was not mentioned until later, was that none of the twelve vans bore the name and address of the firm of removers and that none of the men in charge of them loitered in the wine-shops round about. They worked to such good purpose that all was over by eleven o'clock. Nothing remained but those piles of old papers and rags which are always left behind in the corners of empty rooms.

M. Felix Davey was a young man of smart appearance, dressed in the latest fashion, but carrying a heavily-weighted cane which seemed to indicate unusual muscular strength on the part of its owner. He walked away quietly and sat down on a bench in the cross alley which intersects the Avenue du Bois, opposite the Rue Pergolese. Beside him sat a young woman, clad in the costume of the lower middle-class and reading her paper, while a child played with its spade in the sand beside her.

Presently, Felix Davey said to the woman, without turning his head:

"Ganimard?"

"Went out at nine o'clock this morning."

"Where to?"

"Police headquarters."

"Alone?"

"Yes."

"No telegram last night?"

"No."

"Do they still trust you at the house?"

"Yes. I do odd work for Madame Ganimard and she tells me all her husband does.... We spent the morning together."

"Good. Continue to come here at eleven every morning, until further orders."

He rose and walked to the Pavillon Chinois, near the Porte Dauphine, where he took a frugal meal: two eggs, some vegetables and a little fruit. Then he returned to the Rue Crevaux and said to the concierge:

"I am going to have a look round upstairs and then I'll give you the keys."

He finished his inspection with the room which he used as a study. There he took hold of the end of a jointed gas-bracket which was fixed beside the chimney, unscrewed the brass nozzle, fitted a little funnel-shaped instrument to it and blew up the pipe.

A faint whistle sounded in reply. Putting the pipe to his mouth, he whispered:

"Any one there, Dubreuil?"

"No."

"Can I come up?"

"Yes."

He replaced the bracket, saying, as he did so:

"Where will progress stop? Our age teems with little inventions that make life really charming and picturesque. And so amusing too ... especially when a man knows the game of life as I know it!"

He touched one of the marble mouldings of the mantel-piece and made it swing round on a pivot. The marble slab itself moved and the mirror above it slid between invisible grooves, revealing a yawning gap which contained the lower steps of a staircase built in the body of the chimney itself. It was all very clean, in carefully-polished iron and white porcelain tiles.

He climbed up to the fifth floor, which had a similar opening over the mantel-piece, and found M. Dubreuil awaiting him:

"Is everything finished here?"

"Everything."

"All cleared up?"

"Quite."

"The staff?"

"All gone, except the three men keeping watch."

"Let's go up."

They climbed by the same way to the servants' floor and emerged in a garret where they found three men, one of whom was looking out of the window.

"Any news?"

"No, governor."

"Is the street quiet?"

"Absolutely."

"I shall leave for good in ten minutes.... You will go too. In the meantime, if you notice the least suspicious movement in the street, let me know."

"I've got my finger on the alarm-bell governor."

"Dubreuil, did you remember to tell the removers not to touch the bell-wires?"

"Yes. They work perfectly."

"That's all right, then."

The two gentlemen returned to Felix Davey's flat. And Davey, after readjusting the marble moulding, exclaimed, gaily:

"Dubreuil, I should love to see the faces of those who discover all these wonderful contrivances: alarm-bells, a network of electric wires and speaking-tubes, invisible passages, sliding floor-boards, secret staircases!... regular pantomime machinery!"

"What an advertisement for Arsene Lupin!"

"We could very well have done without the advertisement. It seems a pity to leave so fine an installation. We shall have to begin all over again, Dubreuil ... and upon a new plan, of course, for it never does to repeat one's self. Confound that Shears!"

"He's not come back, I suppose?"

"How could he? There's only one boat from Southampton, which leaves at midnight. From the Havre, there's only one train, which leaves at eight in the morning and arrives at eleven three. Once he has not taken the midnight steamer—and he has not, for my orders to the captain were formal—he can't reach France till this evening, via Newhaven and Dieppe."

"If he comes back!"

"Shears never throws up the game. He will come back, but it will be too late. We shall be far away."

"And Mlle. Destange?"

"I am to meet her in an hour."

"At her house?"

"No, she won't go home for a few days, until the storm has blown over ... and I am able to look after her more thoroughly.... But you must hurry, Dubreuil. It will take a long time to ship all the cases and you will be wanted on the wharf."

"You're sure we are not being watched?"

"Whom by? I was never afraid of any one but Shears."

Dubreuil went away. Felix Davey took a last walk round the flat, picked up a torn letter or two and then, seeing a piece of chalk, he took it, drew a large circle on the dark wall-paper of the dining room, and wrote, after the style of a commemorative tablet:

....... .-'' '-.. ,-' '-. ,' '. ,' ' / ARSENE LUPIN, ' / '. / GENTLEMAN BURGLAR, LIVED HERE FOR 5 YEARS .' AT THE COMMENCEMENT .' OF / ,' ' THE TWENTIETH CENTURY / '. ,' '-. ,' '-. ,-' '' ...... -'

This little joke seemed to cause him a lively satisfaction. He whistled gaily as he looked at it and cried:

"Now that I have put myself right with the historians of the future generations, let's be off! Hurry up, Maitre Holmlock Shears! In three minutes I shall have left my lair, and your defeat will be absolute.... Two minutes more! You're keeping me waiting, maitre!... One minute more! Aren't you coming? Very well, I proclaim your downfall and my apotheosis.... With which last words I proceed to make myself scarce. Farewell, O Kingdom of Arsene Lupin! I shall not look upon you again. Farewell, ye five-and-fifty rooms of the six flats over which I reigned! Farewell, austere and humble dwelling!"

A bell cut short his lyrical effusion, a short, shrill, strident bell, twice interrupted, twice resumed and then ceasing. It was the alarm-bell.

What could it mean? Some unexpected danger? Ganimard? Surely not!...

He was on the point of making for his study and escaping. But first he turned to the window. There was no one in the street. Was the enemy already in the house, then? He listened and seemed to distinguish confused sounds. Without further hesitation he ran to his study and, as he crossed the threshold, heard the sound of a latchkey fumbling at the lock of the hall-door.

"By Jove!" he muttered. "I have only just time. The house may be surrounded.... No use trying the servants' staircase.... Fortunately, the chimney...."

He pushed the moulding smartly: it did not move. He exerted greater force: it did not move.

At the same moment, he received the impression that the outer door was opening and that steps sounded.

"Curse it all!" he swore. "I'm lost, if this confounded spring...."

His fingers clutched the moulding; he bore upon it with all his weight. Nothing moved, nothing! By some incredible bad luck, by a really bewildering piece of malice on the part of fate, the spring, which was working only a moment before, now refused to work!

He persisted madly, convulsively. The block of marble remained inert, motionless. Curse it! Was it conceivable that this stupid obstacle should bar his way? He struck the marble, struck it furious blows with his fists, hammered it, insulted it....

"Why, M. Lupin, is something not going as you wish?"

Lupin turned round, terror-stricken. Holmlock Shears stood before him.

* * * * *

Holmlock Shears! Lupin gazed at him, blinking his eyes, as though smarting under a cruel vision. Holmlock Shears in Paris! Holmlock Shears, whom he had packed off to England the day before, as he might a compromising parcel, stood there before him, triumphant and free! Ah, for this impossible miracle to be performed in despite of Arsene Lupin's will there must have been a revolution of the laws of nature, a victory of all that is illogical and abnormal! Holmlock Shears standing opposite him!

And the Englishman, resorting to irony in his turn, said, with that supercilious politeness with which his adversary had so often lashed him:

"M. Lupin, believe me, from this minute I shall cease to remember the night you made me spend in Baron d'Hautrec's house, cease to remember my friend Wilson's mishaps, cease to remember how I was kidnapped by motor-car, cease to remember the sea-voyage which I have just taken, fastened down, by your orders, to an uncomfortable berth. This minute wipes out all. I forget everything. I am rewarded, amply rewarded."

Lupin did not speak. The Englishman added:

"Don't you think so yourself?"

He appeared to be insisting, as though demanding an assent, a sort of receipt with regard to the past.

After a moment's reflection, during which the Englishman felt himself searched and fathomed to the very bottom of his soul, Lupin said:

"I presume, sir, that your present action rests upon serious motives?"

"Extremely serious motives."

"The fact of your escaping from my captain and his crew is only a secondary incident in our struggle. But the fact of your being here, before me, alone, do you understand, alone in the presence of Arsene Lupin, makes me believe that your revenge is as complete as possible."

"It is as complete as possible."

"This house...?"

"Surrounded."

"The two next houses...?"

"Surrounded."

"The flat above this...?"

"The three flats on the fifth floor which were occupied by M. Dubreuil are invested."

"So that...?"

"So that you are caught, M. Lupin, irredeemably caught."

Lupin now experienced the same feelings that had stirred Shears during his motor-car drive: the same concentrated rage, the same rebellion; but also, when all was said and done, the same sense of loyalty which compelled him to bow before the force of circumstances. Both were equally strong: both alike were bound to accept defeat as a temporary evil, to be received with resignation.

"We are quits, sir," he said, bluntly.

* * * * *

The Englishman seemed delighted at this confession. The two men were silent. Then Lupin, already master of himself, resumed with a smile:

"And I am not sorry. It was becoming wearisome to win every thrust. I had only to put out my arm to hit you full in the chest. This time, you score one. Well, hit, maitre!" He laughed whole-heartedly. "At last we shall have some fun! Lupin is caught in the trap. How will he get out?... Caught in the trap!... What an adventure!... Ah, maitre, I have to thank you for a grand emotion. This is what I call life!"

He pressed his clenched fists to his temples as though to restrain the ungovernable joy that was bubbling up within him; and he also had gestures like those of a child amusing itself beyond its power of endurance.

At last, he went up to the Englishman:

"And now, what are you here for?"

"What am I here for?"

"Yes. Ganimard is outside, with his men. Why does he not come in?"

"I asked him not to."

"And he consented?"

"I called in his services only on the express condition that he would be led by me. Besides, he believes that M. Felix Davey is merely an accomplice of Lupin's."

"Then I will repeat my question under another form. Why did you come in alone?"

"I wanted to speak to you first."

"Aha! You want to speak to me!"

The idea seemed to please Lupin greatly. There are circumstances in life in which we much prefer words to deeds.

"Mr. Shears, I am sorry not to have a chair to offer you. Does this broken box suit you? Or the window-ledge? I am sure a glass of beer would be acceptable.... Do you like it light or dark?... But do sit down, I beg...."

"Never mind that: let us talk."

"I am listening."

"I shall not be long. The object of my stay in France was not to effect your arrest. I was obliged to pursue you, because no other means offered of attaining my real object."

"Which was?"

"To recover the blue diamond."

"The blue diamond!"

"Certainly; because the one discovered in Herr Bleichen's tooth-powder flask was not the real one."

"Just so. The real one was posted by the blonde lady. I had an exact copy made; and as, at that time, I had designs upon the Comtesse de Crozon's other jewels and as the Austrian consul was already under suspicion, the aforesaid blonde lady, lest she should be suspected in her turn, slipped the imitation diamond into the aforesaid consul's luggage."

"While you kept the real one."

"Quite right."

"I want that diamond."

"Impossible. I'm sorry."

"I have promised it to the Comtesse de Crozon. I mean to have it."

"How can you have it, seeing that it's in my possession?"

"I mean to have it just because it is in your possession."

"You mean that I shall give it back to you?"

"Yes."

"Voluntarily?"

"I will buy it of you."

Lupin had a fit of merriment:

"Any one can tell what country you come from! You treat this as a matter of business."

"It is a matter of business."

"And what price do you offer?"

"The liberty of Mlle. Destange."

"Her liberty? But I am not aware that she is under arrest."

"I shall give M. Ganimard the necessary information. Once deprived of your protection, she will be taken also."

Lupin burst out laughing again:

"My dear sir, you are offering me what you do not possess. Mlle. Destange is safe and fears nothing. I want something else."

The Englishman hesitated, obviously embarrassed and flushing slightly. Then he put his hand brusquely on his adversary's shoulder:

"And, if I offered you...?"

"My liberty?"

"No ... but, still, I might leave the room, to arrange with M. Ganimard...."

"And leave me to think things over?"

"Yes."

"Well, what on earth would be the good of that? This confounded spring won't work," said Lupin, irritably pushing the moulding of the mantel.

He stifled an exclamation of surprise: this time, freakish chance had willed that the block of marble should move under his fingers! Safety, flight became possible. In that case, why submit to Holmlock Shears's conditions?

He walked to and fro, as though reflecting upon his answer. Then he, in his turn, put his hand on the Englishman's shoulder:

"After due consideration, Mr. Shears, I prefer to settle my little affairs alone."

"Still...."

"No, I don't want anybody's help."

"When Ganimard has you, it will be up with you. They won't let you go again."

"Who knows?"

"Come, this is madness. Every outlet is watched."

"One remains."

"Which one?"

"The one I shall select."

"Words! Your arrest may be looked upon as effected."

"It is not effected."

"So...?"

"So I shall keep the blue diamond."

Shears took out his watch:

"It is ten minutes to three. At three o'clock, I call Ganimard."

"That gives us ten minutes to chat in. Let us make the most of our time, Mr. Shears, and tell me, to satisfy the curiosity by which I am devoured: how did you procure my address and my name of Felix Davey?"

Keeping a watchful eye on Lupin, whose good-humour made him feel uneasy, Shears gladly consented to give this little explanation, which flattered his vanity, and said:

"I had your address from the blonde lady."

"Clotilde?"

"Yes. You remember ... yesterday morning ... when I meant to carry her off in the motor-cab, she telephoned to her dressmaker."

"So she did."

"Well, I understood later that the dressmaker was yourself. And, last night, in the boat, thanks to an effort of memory which is perhaps one of the things of which I am most proud, I succeeded in recollecting the last two figures of your telephone number: 73. In this way, as I possessed the list of the houses which you had 'touched up,' it was easy for me, on my arrival in Paris at eleven o'clock this morning, to look through the telephone directory until I discovered the name and address of M. Felix Davey. The name and address once known, I called in the aid of M. Ganimard."

"Admirable! First-rate! I make you my bow! But what I can't quite grasp is that you took the train at the Havre. How did you manage to escape from the Hirondelle?"

"I did not escape."

"But ..."

"You gave the captain orders not to reach Southampton until one o'clock. Well, they landed me at twelve and I caught the Havre boat."

"The captain played me false? Impossible."

"He did not play you false."

"What then...?"

"It was his watch."

"His watch?"

"Yes, I put his watch on an hour."

"How?"

"The only way in which one can put a watch on, by turning the winder. We were sitting together chatting and I told him things that interested him.... By Jove, he noticed nothing!"

"Well done; well done! It's a good trick and I must remember it. But what about the cabin clock?"

"Oh, the clock was more difficult, for my legs were bound: but the sailor who was put in charge of me whenever the captain went on deck kindly consented to give the hands a push."

"The sailor? Nonsense! Do you mean to say, he consented...?"

"Oh, he did not know the importance of what he was doing! I told him I must, at all costs, catch the first train to London and ... he allowed himself to be persuaded...."

"In consideration...."

"In consideration of a little present ... which the decent fellow, however, intends faithfully to send to you."

"What present?"

"A mere nothing."

"Well, but what?"

"The blue diamond."

"The blue diamond!"

"Yes, the imitation one, which you substituted for the countess's diamond and which she left in my hands...."

Arsene Lupin gave a sudden and tumultuous burst of laughter. He seemed ready to die: his eyes were wet with tears:

"Oh, what a joke! My faked diamond handed back to the sailor! And the captain's watch! And the hands of the clock!..."

Never before had Holmlock Shears felt the struggle between Arsene Lupin and himself grow so intense as now. With his prodigious intuition, he guessed that, under this excessive gaiety, Lupin was concentrating his formidable mind and collecting all his faculties.

Lupin had gradually drawn closer. The Englishman stepped back and slipped his fingers, as though absent-mindedly, into his pocket:

"It's three o'clock, M. Lupin."

"Three o'clock already? What a pity!... We were having such fun!"

"I am waiting for your answer."

"My answer? Goodness me, what a lot you want! So this finishes the game. With my liberty for the stakes!"

"Or the blue diamond."

"Very well.... It's your lead. What do you do?"

"I mark the king," said Shears, firing a shot with his revolver.

"And here's my hand," retorted Arsene, hurling his fist at the Englishman.

Shears had fired at the ceiling, to summon Ganimard, the need for whose intervention now seemed urgent. But Arsene's fist caught him full in the wind and he turned pale and staggered back. Lupin gave one bound toward the chimney and the marble slab moved.... Too late! The door opened.

"Surrender, Lupin! If not...."

Ganimard, who had doubtless been posted nearer than Lupin thought, stood there, with his revolver aimed at him. And, behind Ganimard, ten men, twenty men crowded upon one another's heels, powerful, ruthless fellows, prepared to beat Lupin down like a dog at the least sign of resistance.

He made a quiet gesture:

"Hands off there! I surrender."

And he crossed his arms over his chest.

* * * * *

A sort of stupor followed. In the room stripped of its furniture and hangings, Arsene Lupin's words seemed drawn-out like an echo:

"I surrender!"

The words sounded incredible. The others were expecting to see him vanish suddenly down a trap or a panel of the wall to fall back and once more to hide him from his assailants. And he surrendered!

Ganimard stepped forward and, greatly excited, with all the gravity that the act demanded, brought his hand slowly down upon his adversary's shoulder and enjoyed the infinite satisfaction of saying:

"Lupin, I arrest you."

"Brrrrr!" shivered Lupin. "You make me feel quite overcome, my dear Ganimard. What a solemn face! One would think you were making a speech over a friend's grave. Come, drop these funereal airs!"

"I arrest you."

"You seem quite flabbergasted! In the name of the law, of which he is a faithful limb, Chief-Inspector Ganimard arrests wicked Arsene Lupin. It is an historic moment and you grasp its full importance.... And this is the second time a similar fact occurs. Bravo, Ganimard; you will do well in your career!"

And he held out his wrists for the handcuffs....

They were fastened on almost solemnly. The detectives, in spite of their usual roughness and the bitterness of their resentment against Lupin, acted with reserve and discretion, astounded as they were at being allowed to touch that intangible being.

"My poor Lupin," he sighed, "what would your smart friends say if they saw you humbled like this!"

He separated his wrists with a growing and continuous effort of every muscle. The veins on his forehead swelled. The links of the chain dug into his skin.

"Now then!" he said.

The chain snapped and broke in two.

"Another, mates: this one's no good."

They put two pairs on him. He approved:

"That's better. You can't be too careful."

Then, counting the detectives, he continued:

"How many of you are there, my friends? Twenty-five? Thirty? That's a lot.... I can't do anything against thirty. Ah, if there had been only fifteen of you!"

* * * * *

He really had a manner about him, the manner of a great actor playing his instinctive, spirited part impertinently and frivolously. Shears watched him as a man watches a fine sight of which he is able to appreciate every beauty and every shade. And he absolutely received the strange impression that the struggle was an equal one between those thirty men on the one hand, backed up by all the formidable machinery of the law, and that single being on the other, fettered and unarmed. The two sides were evenly matched.

"Well, maitre," said Lupin, "this is your work. Thanks to you, Lupin is going to rot on the damp straw of the cells. Confess that your conscience is not quite easy and that you feel the pangs of remorse."

The Englishman gave an involuntary shrug, as though to say:

"You had the chance...."

"Never! Never!" exclaimed Lupin. "Give you back the blue diamond? Ah, no, it has cost me too much trouble already! I value it, you see. At the first visit I have the honour of paying you in London, next month, I daresay, I will tell you why.... But shall you be in London next month? Would you rather I met you in Vienna? Or St. Petersburg?"

He started. Suddenly, an electric bell rang just below the ceiling. And, this time, it was not the alarm-bell, but the bell of the telephone, which had not been removed and which stood between the two windows.

The telephone! Ah, who was going to fall into the trap laid by an odious chance? Arsene Lupin made a furious move toward the instrument, as though he would have smashed it to atoms and, in so doing, stifled the unknown voice that wished to speak to him. But Ganimard took the receiver from its hook and bent down:

"Hullo!... Hullo!... 648.73.... Yes, that's right."

With a brisk gesture of authority, Shears pushed him aside, took the two receivers and put his handkerchief over the mouthpiece to make the sound of his voice less distinct.

At that moment, he glanced at Lupin. And the look which they exchanged showed them that the same thought had struck them both and that they both foresaw to the end the consequences of that possible, probable, almost certain supposition: it was the blonde lady telephoning. She thought that she was telephoning to Felix Davey, or, rather, Maxime Bermond; and she was about to confide in Holmlock Shears!

And the Englishman repeated:

"Hullo!... Hullo!..."

A pause and Shears:

"Yes, it's I; Maxime."

The drama took shape forthwith, with tragic precision. Lupin, the mocking, indomitable Lupin, no longer even thought of concealing his anxiety and, with features pale as death, strove to hear, to guess. And Shears continued, in reply to the mysterious voice:

"Yes, yes, it's all finished and I was just getting ready to come on to you, as arranged.... Where? Why, where you are.... Isn't that best?"

He hesitated, seeking his words, and then stopped. It was evident that he was trying to draw out the girl without saying too much himself and that he had not the least idea where she was. Besides, Ganimard's presence seemed to hinder him.... Oh, if some miracle could have cut the thread of that diabolical conversation! Lupin called for it with all his might, with all his strained nerves!

And Shears went on:

"Hullo!... Hullo!... Can't you hear?... It's very bad at this end too ... and I can hardly make out.... Can you hear me now? Well ... on second thoughts ... you had better go home.... Oh, no, there's no danger at all.... Why, he's in England! I've had a telegram from Southampton!"

The irony of the words! Shears uttered them with an inexpressible sense of satisfaction. And he added.

"So go at once, dear, and I shall be with you soon."

He hung up the receivers.

"M. Ganimard, I propose to borrow three of your men."

"It's for the blonde lady, I suppose?"

"Yes."

"Do you know who she is, where she is?"

"Yes."

"By Jove! A fine capture! She and Lupin ... that completes the day's work. Folenfant, take two men and go with Mr. Shears."

The Englishman walked away, followed by the three detectives.

The end had come. The blonde lady also was about to fall into Shears's hands. Thanks to his wonderful persistency, thanks to the aid of fortunate events, the battle was turning to victory for him and irreparable disaster for Lupin.

"Mr. Shears!"

The Englishman stopped:

"Yes, M. Lupin?"

Lupin seemed completely crushed by this last blow. His forehead was wrinkled; he was worn-out and gloomy. Yet he drew himself up, with a revival of energy; and, in spite of all, exclaimed, in a voice of glad unconcern:

"You must admit that fate is dead against me. Just now, it prevented me from escaping by the chimney and delivered me into your hands. This moment, it has made use of the telephone to make you a present of the blonde lady. I bow before its decrees."

"Meaning...?"

"Meaning that I am prepared to reopen negotiations."

Shears took the inspector aside and begged permission, but in a tone that allowed of no refusal, to exchange a few words with Lupin. Then he walked across to him. The momentous conversation took place. It opened in short, nervous phrases:

"What do you want?"

"Mlle. Destange's liberty."

"You know the price?"

"Yes."

"And you agree?"

"I agree to all your conditions."

"Ah!" exclaimed the astonished Englishman. "But ... you refused just now ... for yourself...."

"It was a question of myself, Mr. Shears. Now it involves a woman ... and a woman whom I love. You see, we have very peculiar ideas about these things in France, and it does not follow that, because a man's name is Lupin, he will act differently: on the contrary!"

He said this quite simply. Shears gave him an imperceptible nod and whispered:

"Where is the blue diamond?"

"Take my cane, over there, in the chimney corner. Hold the knob in one hand and turn the iron ferrule with the other."

Shears took the cane, turned the ferrule and, as he turned it, perceived that the knob became unscrewed. Inside the knob was a ball of putty. Inside the putty a diamond.

He examined it. It was the blue diamond.

"Mlle. Destange is free, M. Lupin."

"Free in the future as in the present? She has nothing to fear from you?"

"Nor from any one else."

"Whatever happens?"

"Whatever happens. I have forgotten her name and where she lives."

"Thank you. And au revoir. For we shall meet again, Mr. Shears, shall we not?"

"I have no doubt we shall."

A more or less heated explanation followed between the Englishman and Ganimard and was cut short by Shears with a certain roughness:

"I am very sorry, M. Ganimard, that I can't agree with you. But I have no time to persuade you now. I leave for England in an hour."

"But ... the blonde lady?"

"I know no such person."

"Only a moment ago...."

"You must take it or leave it. I have already caught Lupin for you. Here is the blue diamond ... which you may have the pleasure of handing to the countess yourself. I can't see that you have anything to complain of."

"But the blonde lady?"

"Find her."

He settled his hat on his head and walked away with a brisk step, like a gentleman who has no time to loiter once his business is done.

* * * * *

"Good-bye, maitre!" cried Lupin. "And a pleasant journey! I shall always remember the cordial relations between us. My kind regards to Mr. Wilson!"

He received no reply and chuckled:

"That's what we call taking English leave. Ah, those worthy islanders do not possess that elegant courtesy which distinguishes us. Just think, Ganimard, of the exit which a Frenchman would have made in similar circumstances! Under what exquisite politeness would he not have concealed his triumph!... But, Lord bless my soul, Ganimard, what are you doing? Well, I never: a search! But there's nothing left, my poor friend, not a scrap of paper! My archives have been moved to a place of safety."

"One can never tell."

Lupin looked on in resignation. Held by two inspectors and surrounded by all the rest, he patiently watched the various operations. But, after twenty minutes, he sighed:

"Come along, Ganimard; you'll never be finished, at this rate."

"Are you in a great hurry?"

"Yes, I should think I was! I have an important engagement!"

"At the police-station?"

"No, in town."

"Tut, tut! At what time?"

"At two o'clock."

"It's past three."

"Exactly: I shall be late; and there's nothing I detest so much as being late."

"Will you give me five minutes?"

"Not a minute longer."

"You're too good.... I'll try...."

"Don't talk so much.... What, that cupboard too? Why, it's empty!"

"There are some letters, for all that."

"Old bills."

"No, a bundle done up in ribbon."

"A pink ribbon, is it? Oh, Ganimard, don't untie it, for heaven's sake!"

"Are they from a woman?"

"Yes."

"A lady?"

"Rather!"

"What's her name?"

"Mme. Ganimard."

"Very witty! Oh, very witty!" cried the inspector, in an affected tone.

At that moment, the men returned from the other rooms and declared that their search had led to nothing. Lupin began to laugh:

"Of course not! Did you expect to find a list of my friends, or a proof of my relations with the German Emperor? What you ought to have looked for, Ganimard, are the little mysteries of this flat. For instance, that gas-pipe is a speaking tube. The chimney contains a staircase. This wall here is hollow. And such a tangle of bell-wires! Look here, Ganimard: just press that button."

Ganimard did as he was asked.

"Did you hear anything?"

"No."

"Nor I. And yet you have instructed the captain of my balloon-park to get ready the airship which is soon to carry us up to the sky."

"Come," said Ganimard, who had finished his inspection. "Enough of this nonsense. Let us start."

He took a few steps, followed by his men.

Lupin did not budge a foot's breadth.

His custodians pushed him. In vain.

"Well," said Ganimard, "do you refuse to come?"

"Not at all."

"Then ..."

"It all depends."

"Depends on what?"

"On where you're taking me."

"To the police-station, of course."

"Then I shan't come. I have nothing to do at the station."

"You're mad!"

"Didn't I tell you I had an important engagement?"

"Lupin!"

"Come, Ganimard, the blonde lady must be getting quite anxious about me; and do you think I could have the rudeness to keep her waiting? It would not be the conduct of a gentleman!"

"Listen to me, Lupin," said the inspector, who was beginning to lose his temper under all this chaff. "So far, I have treated you with excessive consideration. But there are limits. Follow me."

"Impossible. I have an engagement and that engagement I mean to keep."

"For the last time?"

"Im-possible!"

Ganimard made a sign. Two men seized Lupin under the arms and lifted him from the floor. But they dropped him at once with howls of pain: with his two hands, Arsene Lupin had dug two long needles into their flesh.

Maddened with rage, the others rushed upon him, wreaking their hatred at last, burning to avenge their comrades and themselves for the numberless affronts put upon them, and they rained a shower of blows upon his body. One blow, more violent than the rest, struck him on the temple. He fell to the floor.

"If you hurt him," growled Ganimard, angrily, "you'll have me to deal with."

He bent over Lupin, prepared to assist him. But, finding that he was breathing freely, he told the men to take Lupin by the head and feet, while he himself supported his hips.

"Slowly, now, gently!... Don't jolt him!... Why, you brutes, you might have killed him. Well, Lupin, how do you feel?"

Lupin opened his eyes and stammered:

"Not up to much, Ganimard.... You shouldn't have let them knock me about."

"Dash it, it's your own fault ... with your obstinacy!" replied Ganimard, in real distress. "But you're not hurt?"

They reached the landing. Lupin moaned:

"Ganimard ... the lift ... they'll break my bones."

"Good idea, capital idea!" agreed the inspector. "Besides, the stairs are so narrow ... it would be impossible...."

He got the lift up. They laid Lupin on the seat with every imaginable precaution. Ganimard sat down beside him and said to his men:

"Go down the stairs at once. Wait for me by the porter's lodge. Do you understand?"

He shut the door. But it was hardly closed when shouts arose. The lift had shot up, like a balloon with its rope cut. A sardonic laugh rang out.

"Damnation!" roared Ganimard, feeling frantically in the dark for the lever. And failing to find it, he shouted, "The fifth floor! Watch the door on the fifth floor!"

The detectives rushed upstairs, four steps at a time. But a strange thing happened: the lift seemed to shoot right through the ceiling of the top floor, disappeared before the detectives' eyes and suddenly emerged on the upper story, where the servants' bedrooms were, and stopped.

Three men were in waiting and opened the door. Two of them overpowered Ganimard, who, hampered in his movements and completely bewildered, hardly thought of defending himself. The third helped Lupin out.

"I told you, Ganimard!... Carried off by balloon ... and thanks to you!... Next time, you must show less compassion. And, above all, remember that Arsene Lupin does not allow himself to be bashed and mauled about without good reasons. Good-bye...."

The lift-door was already closed and the lift, with Ganimard inside, sent back on its journey toward the ground floor. And all this was done so expeditiously that the old detective caught up his subordinates at the door of the porter's lodge.

Without a word, they hurried across the courtyard and up the servants' staircase, the only means of communication with the floor by which the escape had been effected.

A long passage, with many windings, lined with small, numbered rooms, led to a door, which had been simply left ajar. Beyond this door and, consequently, in another house, was another passage, also with a number of turns and lined with similar rooms. Right at the end was a servants' staircase. Ganimard went down it, crossed a yard, a hall and rushed into a street: the Rue Picot. Then he understood: the two houses were built back to back and their fronts faced two streets, running not at right angles, but parallel, with a distance of over sixty yards between them.

He entered the porter's lodge and showed his card:

"Have four men just gone out?"

"Yes, the two servants of the fourth and fifth floors, with two friends."

"Who lives on the fourth and fifth floors?"

"Two gentlemen of the name of Fauvel and their cousins, the Provosts.... They moved this morning. Only the two servants remained.... They have just gone."

"Ah," thought Ganimard, sinking on to a sofa in the lodge, "what a fine stroke we have missed! The whole gang occupied this rabbit-warren!..."

* * * * *

Forty minutes later, two gentlemen drove up in a cab to the Gare du Nord and hurried toward the Calais express, followed by a porter carrying their bags.

One of them had his arm in a sling and his face was pale and drawn. The other seemed in great spirits:

"Come along, Wilson; it won't do to miss the train!... Oh, Wilson, I shall never forget these ten days!"

"No more shall I."

"What a fine series of battles!"

"Magnificent!"

"A regrettable incident, here and there, but of very slight importance."

"Very slight, as you say."

"And, lastly, victory all along the line. Lupin arrested! The blue diamond recovered!"

"My arm broken!"

"With a success of this kind, what does a broken arm matter?"

"Especially mine."

"Especially yours. Remember, Wilson, it was at the very moment when you were at the chemist's, suffering like a hero, that I discovered the clue that guided me through the darkness."

"What a piece of luck!"

The doors were being locked.

"Take your seats, please. Hurry up, gentlemen!"

The porter climbed into an empty compartment and placed the bags in the rack, while Shears hoisted the unfortunate Wilson in:

"What are you doing, Wilson? Hurry up, old chap!... Pull yourself together, do!"

"It's not for want of pulling myself together."

"What then?"

"I can only use one hand."

"Well?" cried Shears, gaily. "What a fuss you make! One would think you were the only man in your plight. What about the fellows who have really lost an arm? Well, are you settled? Thank goodness for that!"

He gave the porter a half-franc piece.

"Here, my man. That's for you."

"Thank you, Mr. Shears."

The Englishman raised his eyes: Arsene Lupin!

"You!... You!" he blurted in his bewilderment.

And Wilson stammered, waving his one hand with the gestures of a man proving a fact:

"You!... You!... But you're arrested! Shears told me so. When he left you, Ganimard and his thirty detectives had you surrounded!"

Lupin crossed his arms with an air of indignation:

"So you thought I would let you go without coming to see you off? After the excellent friendly relations which we never ceased to keep up? Why, it would have been unspeakably rude. What do you take me for?"

The engine whistled.

"However, I forgive you.... Have you all you want? Tobacco, matches?... That's right.... And the evening papers? You will find the details of my arrest in them: your last exploit, maitre! And now, au revoir; and delighted to have made your acquaintance ... delighted, I mean it!... And, if ever I can do anything for you, I shall be only too pleased."

He jumped down to the platform and closed the door.

"Good-bye!" he cried again, waving his handkerchief. "Good-bye.... I'll write to you!... Mind you write too; let me know how the broken arm is, Mr. Wilson! I shall expect to hear from both of you.... Just a picture postcard, now and again.... 'Lupin, Paris' will always find me.... It's quite enough.... Never mind about stamping the letters.... Good-bye!... See you soon, I hope!"



SECOND EPISODE

THE JEWISH LAMP

CHAPTER I

Holmlock Shears and Wilson were seated on either side of the fireplace in Shears's sitting-room. The great detective's pipe had gone out. He knocked the ashes into the grate, re-filled his briar, lit it, gathered the skirts of his dressing-gown around his knees, puffed away and devoted all his attention to sending rings of smoke curling gracefully up to the ceiling.

Wilson watched him. He watched him as a dog, rolled up on the hearth-rug, watches its master, with wide-open eyes and unblinking lids, eyes which have no other hope than to reflect the expected movement on the master's part. Would Shears break silence? Would he reveal the secret of his present dreams and admit Wilson to the realm of meditation into which he felt that he was not allowed to enter uninvited?

Shears continued silent.

Wilson ventured upon a remark:

"Things are very quiet. There's not a single case for us to nibble at."

Shears was more and more fiercely silent; but the rings of tobacco-smoke became more and more successful and any one but Wilson would have observed that Shears obtained from this the profound content which we derive from the minor achievements of our vanity, at times when our brain is completely void of thought.

Disheartened, Wilson rose and walked to the window. The melancholy street lay stretched between the gloomy fronts of the houses, under a dark sky whence fell an angry and pouring rain. A cab drove past; another cab. Wilson jotted down their numbers in his note-book. One can never tell!

The postman came down the street, gave a treble knock at the door; and, presently, the servant entered with two registered letters.

"You look remarkably pleased," said Wilson, when Shears had unsealed and glanced through the first.

"This letter contains a very attractive proposal. You were worrying about a case: here is one. Read it."

Wilson took the letter and read:

"18, Rue Murillo, "PARIS.

"Sir:

"I am writing to ask for the benefit of your assistance and experience. I have been the victim of a serious theft and all the investigations attempted up to the present would seem to lead to nothing.

"I am sending you by this post a number of newspapers which will give you all the details of the case; and, if you are inclined to take it up, I shall be pleased if you will accept the hospitality of my house and if you will fill in the enclosed signed check for any amount which you like to name for your expenses.

"Pray, telegraph to inform me if I may expect you and believe me to be, sir,

"Yours very truly, "BARON VICTOR D'IMBLEVALLE."

"Well," said Shears, "this comes just at the right time: why shouldn't I take a little run to Paris? I haven't been there since my famous duel with Arsene Lupin and I shan't be sorry to re-visit it under rather more peaceful conditions."

He tore the cheque into four pieces and, while Wilson, whose arm had not yet recovered from the injury received in the course of the aforesaid encounter, was inveighing bitterly against Paris and all its inhabitants, he opened the second envelope.

A movement of irritation at once escaped him; he knitted his brow as he read the letter and, when he had finished, he crumpled it into a ball and threw it angrily on the floor.

"What's the matter?" exclaimed Wilson, in amazement.

He picked up the ball, unfolded it and read, with ever-increasing stupefaction:

"MY DEAR MAITRE:

"You know my admiration for you and the interest which I take in your reputation. Well, accept my advice and have nothing to do with the case in which you are asked to assist. Your interference would do a great deal of harm, all your efforts would only bring about a pitiable result and you would be obliged publicly to acknowledge your defeat.

"I am exceedingly anxious to spare you this humiliation and I beg you, in the name of our mutual friendship, to remain very quietly by your fireside.

"Give my kind remembrances to Dr. Wilson and accept for yourself the respectful compliments of

"Yours most sincerely, "ARSENE LUPIN."

"Arsene Lupin!" repeated Wilson, in bewilderment.

Shears banged the table with his fist:

"Oh, I'm getting sick of the brute! He laughs at me as if I were a schoolboy! I am publicly to acknowledge my defeat, am I? Didn't I compel him to give up the blue diamond?"

"He's afraid of you," suggested Wilson.

"You're talking nonsense! Arsene Lupin is never afraid; and the proof is that he challenges me."

"But how does he come to know of Baron d'Imblevalle's letter?"

"How can I tell? You're asking silly questions, my dear fellow!"

"I thought ... I imagined...."

"What? That I am a sorcerer?"

"No, but I have seen you perform such marvels!"

"No one is able to perform marvels.... I no more than another. I make reflections, deductions, conclusions, but I don't make guesses. Only fools make guesses."

Wilson adopted the modest attitude of a beaten dog and did his best, lest he should be a fool, not to guess why Shears was striding angrily up and down the room. But, when Shears rang for the servant and asked for his travelling-bag, Wilson thought himself entitled, since this was a material fact, to reflect, deduce and conclude that his chief was going on a journey.

The same mental operation enabled him to declare, in the tone of a man who has no fear of the possibility of a mistake:

"Holmlock, you are going to Paris."

"Possibly."

"And you are going to Paris even more in reply to Lupin's challenge than to oblige Baron d'Imblevalle."

"Possibly."

"Holmlock, I will go with you."

"Aha, old friend!" cried Shears, interrupting his walk. "Aren't you afraid that your left arm may share the fate of the right?"

"What can happen to me? You will be there."

"Well said! You're a fine fellow! And we will show this gentleman that he may have made a mistake in defying us so boldly. Quick, Wilson, and meet me at the first train."

"Won't you wait for the newspapers the baron mentions?"

"What's the good?"

"Shall I send a telegram?"

"No. Arsene Lupin would know I was coming and I don't wish him to. This time, Wilson, we must play a cautious game."

* * * * *

That afternoon, the two friends stepped on board the boat at Dover. They had a capital crossing. In the express from Calais to Paris, Shears indulged in three hours of the soundest sleep, while Wilson kept a good watch at the door of the compartment and meditated with a wandering eye.

Shears woke up feeling happy and well. The prospect of a new duel with Arsene Lupin delighted him; and he rubbed his hands with the contented air of a man preparing to taste untold joys.

"At last," exclaimed Wilson, "we shall feel that we're alive!"

And he rubbed his hands with the same contented air.

At the station, Shears took the rugs, and, followed by Wilson carrying the bags—each his burden!—handed the tickets to the collector and walked gaily into the street.

"A fine day, Wilson.... Sunshine!... Paris is dressed in her best to receive us."

"What a crowd!"

"So much the better, Wilson: we stand less chance of being noticed. No one will recognize us in the midst of such a multitude."

"Mr. Shears, I believe?"

He stopped, somewhat taken aback. Who on earth could be addressing him by name?

A woman was walking beside him, or rather a girl whose exceedingly simple dress accentuated her well-bred appearance. Her pretty face wore a sad and anxious expression. She repeated:

"You must be Mr. Shears, surely?"

He was silent, as much from confusion as from the habit of prudence, and she asked for the third time:

"Surely I am speaking to Mr. Shears?"

"What do you want with me?" he asked, crossly, thinking this a questionable meeting.

She placed herself in front of him:

"Listen to me, Mr. Shears: it is a very serious matter. I know that you are going to the Rue Murillo."

"What's that?"

"I know.... I know.... Rue Murillo.... No. 18. Well, you must not ... no, you must not go.... I assure you, you will regret it. Because I tell you this, you need not think that I am interested in any way. I have a reason; I know what I am saying."

He tried to push her aside. She insisted:

"I entreat you; do not be obstinate.... Oh, if I only knew how to convince you! Look into me, look into the depths of my eyes ... they are sincere ... they speak the truth...."

Desperately, she raised her eyes, a pair of beautiful, grave and limpid eyes that seemed to reflect her very soul. Wilson nodded his head:

"The young lady seems quite sincere," he said.

"Indeed I am," she said beseechingly, "and you must trust me...."

"I do trust you, mademoiselle," replied Wilson.

"Oh, how happy you make me! And your friend trusts me too, does he not? I feel it.... I am sure of it! How glad I am! All will be well!... Oh, what a good idea I had! Listen, Mr. Shears: there's a train for Calais in twenty minutes.... Now, you must take it.... Quick, come with me: it's this way and you have not much time."

She tried to drag Shears with her. He seized her by the arm and, in a voice which he strove to make as gentle as possible, said: "Forgive me, mademoiselle, if I am not able to accede to your wish; but I never turn aside from a task which I have undertaken."

"I entreat you.... I entreat you.... Oh, if you only knew!"

He passed on and walked briskly away.

Wilson lingered behind and said to the girl:

"Be of good hope.... He will see the thing through to the end.... He has never yet been known to fail...."

And he ran after Shears to catch him up.

- HOLMLOCK SHEARS VERSUS ARSENE LUPIN -

These words, standing out in great black letters, struck their eyes at the first steps they took. They walked up to them: a procession of sandwich-men was moving along in single file. In their hands they carried heavy ferruled canes, with which they tapped the pavement in unison as they went; and their boards bore the above legend in front and a further huge poster at the back which read:

THE SHEARS-LUPIN CONTEST ARRIVAL OF THE ENGLISH CHAMPION THE GREAT DETECTIVE GRAPPLES WITH THE RUE MURILLO MYSTERY FULL DETAILS ECHO DE FRANCE

Wilson tossed his head:

"I say, Holmlock, I thought we were travelling incognito! I shouldn't be astonished to find the Republican Guard waiting for us in the Rue Murillo, with an official reception and champagne!"

"When you try to be witty, Wilson," snarled Shears, "you're witty enough for two!"

He strode up to one of the men with apparent intention of taking him in his powerful hands and tearing him and his advertisement to shreds. Meanwhile, a crowd gathered round the posters, laughing and joking.

Suppressing a furious fit of passion, Shears said to the man:

"When were you hired?"

"This morning."

"When did you start on your round?"

"An hour ago."

"But the posters were ready?"

"Lord, yes! They were there when we came to the office this morning."

So Arsene Lupin had foreseen that Shears would accept the battle! Nay, more, the letter written by Lupin proved that he himself wished for the battle and that it formed part of his intentions to measure swords once more with his rival. Why? What possible motive could urge him to re-commence the contest?

Holmlock Shears showed a momentary hesitation. Lupin must really feel very sure of victory to display such insolence; and was it not falling into a trap to hasten like that in answer to the first call? Then, summoning up all his energy:

"Come along, Wilson! Driver, 18, Rue Murillo!" he shouted.

And, with swollen veins and fists clenched as though for a boxing-match, he leapt into a cab.

* * * * *

The Rue Murillo is lined with luxurious private residences, the backs of which look out upon the Parc Monceau. No. 18 is one of the handsomest of these houses; and Baron d'Imblevalle, who occupies it with his wife and children, has furnished it in the most sumptuous style, as befits an artist and millionaire. There is a courtyard in front of the house, skirted on either side by the servants' offices. At the back, a garden mingles the branches of its trees with the trees of the park.

The two Englishmen rang the bell, crossed the courtyard and were admitted by a footman, who showed them into a small drawing-room at the other side of the house.

They sat down and took a rapid survey of the many valuable objects with which the room was filled.

"Very pretty things," whispered Wilson. "Taste and fancy.... One can safely draw the deduction that people who have had the leisure to hunt out these articles are persons of a certain age ... fifty, perhaps...."

He did not have time to finish. The door opened and M. d'Imblevalle entered, followed by his wife.

Contrary to Wilson's deductions, they were both young, fashionably dressed and very lively in speech and manner. Both were profuse in thanks:

"It is really too good of you! To put yourself out like this! We are almost glad of this trouble since it procures us the pleasure...."

"How charming those French people are!" thought Wilson, who never shirked the opportunity of making an original observation.

"But time is money," cried the baron. "And yours especially, Mr. Shears. Let us come to the point! What do you think of the case? Do you hope to bring it to a satisfactory result?"

"To bring the case to a satisfactory result, I must first know what the case is."

"Don't you know?"

"No; and I will ask you to explain the matter fully, omitting nothing. What is it a case of?"

"It is a case of theft."

"On what day did it take place?"

"On Saturday," replied the baron. "On Saturday night or Sunday morning."

"Six days ago, therefore. Now, pray, go on."

"I must first tell you that my wife and I, though we lead the life expected of people in our position, go out very little. The education of our children, a few receptions, the beautifying of our home: these make up our existence; and all or nearly all our evenings are spent here, in this room, which is my wife's boudoir and in which we have collected a few pretty things. Well, on Saturday last, at about eleven o'clock, I switched off the electric light and my wife and I retired, as usual, to our bedroom."

"Where is that?"

"The next room: that door over there. On the following morning, that is to say, Sunday, I rose early. As Suzanne—my wife—was still asleep, I came into this room as gently as possible, so as not to awake her. Imagine my surprise at finding the window open, after we had left it closed the evening before!"

"A servant...?"

"Nobody enters this room in the morning before we ring. Besides, I always take the precaution of bolting that other door, which leads to the hall. Therefore the window must have been opened from the outside. I had a proof of it, besides: the second pane of the right-hand casement, the one next to the latch, had been cut out."

"And the window?"

"The window, as you perceive, opens on a little balcony surrounded by a stone balustrade. We are on the first floor here and you can see the garden at the back of the house and the railings that separate it from the Parc Monceau. It is certain, therefore, that the man came from the Parc Monceau, climbed the railings by means of a ladder and got up to the balcony."

"It is certain, you say?"

"On either side of the railings, in the soft earth of the borders, we found holes left by the two uprights of the ladder; and there were two similar holes below the balcony. Lastly, the balustrade shows two slight scratches, evidently caused by the contact of the ladder."

"Isn't the Parc Monceau closed at night?"

"Closed? No. But, in any case, there is a house building at No. 14. It would have been easy to effect an entrance that way."

Holmlock Shears reflected for a few moments and resumed:

"Let us come to the theft. You say it was committed in the room where we now are?"

"Yes. Just here, between this twelfth-century Virgin and that chased-silver tabernacle, there was a little Jewish lamp. It has disappeared."

"And is that all?"

"That is all."

"Oh!... And what do you call a Jewish lamp?"

"It is one of those lamps which they used to employ in the old days, consisting of a stem and of a receiver to contain the oil. This receiver had two or more burners, which held the wicks."

"When all is said, objects of no great value."

"Just so. But the one in question formed a hiding-place in which we had made it a practice to keep a magnificent antique jewel, a chimera in gold, set with rubies and emeralds and worth a great deal of money."

"What was your reason for this practice?"

"Upon my word, Mr. Shears, I should find it difficult to tell you! Perhaps we just thought it amusing to have a hiding-place of this kind."

"Did nobody know of it?"

"Nobody."

"Except, of course, the thief," objected Shears. "But for that, he would not have taken the trouble to steal the Jewish lamp."

"Obviously. But how could he know of it, seeing that it was by an accident that we discovered the secret mechanism of the lamp?"

"The same accident may have revealed it to somebody else: a servant ... a visitor to the house.... But let us continue: have you informed the police?"

"Certainly. The examining-magistrate has made his inquiry. The journalistic detectives attached to all the big newspapers have made theirs. But, as I wrote to you, it does not seem as though the problem had the least chance of ever being solved."

Shears rose, went to the window, inspected the casement, the balcony, the balustrade, employed his lens to study the two scratches on the stone and asked M. d'Imblevalle to take him down to the garden.

When they were outside, Shears simply sat down in a wicker chair and contemplated the roof of the house with a dreamy eye. Then he suddenly walked toward two little wooden cases with which, in order to preserve the exact marks, they had covered the holes which the uprights of the ladder had left in the ground, below the balcony. He removed the cases, went down on his knees and, with rounded back and his nose six inches from the ground, searched and took his measurements. He went through the same performance along the railing, but more quickly.

That was all.

* * * * *

They both returned to the boudoir, where Madame d'Imblevalle was waiting for them.

Shears was silent for a few minutes longer and then spoke these words:

"Ever since you began your story, monsieur le baron, I was struck by the really too simple side of the offence. To apply a ladder, remove a pane of glass, pick out an object and go away: no, things don't happen so easily as that. It is all too clear, too plain."

"You mean to say...?"

"I mean to say that the theft of the Jewish lamp was committed under the direction of Arsene Lupin."

"Arsene Lupin!" exclaimed the baron.

"But it was committed without Arsene Lupin's presence and without anybody's entering the house.... Perhaps a servant slipped down to the balcony from his garret, along a rain-spout which I saw from the garden."

"But what evidence have you?"

"Arsene Lupin would not have left the boudoir empty-handed."

"Empty-handed! And what about the lamp?"

"Taking the lamp would not have prevented him from taking this snuff-box, which, I see, is studded with diamonds, or this necklace of old opals. It would require but two movements more. His only reason for not making those movements was that he was not here to make them."

"Still, the marks of the ladder?"

"A farce! Mere stage-play to divert suspicions!"

"The scratches on the balustrade?"

"A sham! They were made with sandpaper. Look, here are a few bits of paper which I picked up."

"The marks left by the uprights of the ladder?"

"Humbug! Examine the two rectangular holes below the balcony and the two holes near the railings. The shape is similar, but, whereas they are parallel here, they are not so over there. Measure the space that separates each hole from its neighbour: it differs in the two cases. Below the balcony, the distance is nine inches. Beside the railings, it is eleven inches."

"What do you conclude from that?"

"I conclude, since their outline is identical, that the four holes were made with one stump of wood, cut to the right shape."

"The best argument would be the stump of wood itself."

"Here it is," said Shears. "I picked it up in the garden, behind a laurel-tub."

* * * * *

The baron gave in. It was only forty minutes since the Englishman had entered by that door; and not a vestige remained of all that had been believed so far on the evidence of the apparent facts themselves. The reality, a different reality, came to light, founded upon something much more solid: the reasoning faculties of a Holmlock Shears.

"It is a very serious accusation to bring against our people, Mr. Shears," said the baroness. "They are old family servants and not one of them is capable of deceiving us."

"If one of them did not deceive you, how do you explain that this letter was able to reach me on the same day and by the same post as the one you sent me?"

And he handed her the letter which Arsene Lupin had written to him.

Madame d'Imblevalle was dumbfounded:

"Arsene Lupin!... How did he know?"

"Did you tell no one of your letter?"

"No one," said the baron. "The idea occurred to us the other evening, at dinner."

"Before the servants?"

"There were only our two children. And even then ... no, Sophie and Henrietta were not at table, were they Suzanne?"

Madame d'Imblevalle reflected and declared:

"No, they had gone up to mademoiselle."

"Mademoiselle?" asked Shears.

"The governess, Alice Demun."

"Doesn't she have her meals with you?"

"No, she has them by herself, in her room."

Wilson had an idea:

"The letter written to my friend Holmlock Shears was posted?"

"Naturally."

"Who posted it?"

"Dominique, who has been with me as my own man for twenty years," replied the baron. "Any search in that direction would be waste of time."

"Time employed in searching is never wasted," stated Wilson, sententiously.

This closed the first inquiries and Shears asked leave to withdraw.

An hour later, at dinner, he saw Sophie and Henrietta, the d'Imblevalles' children, two pretty little girls of eight and six respectively. The conversation languished. Shears replied to the pleasant remarks of the baron and his wife in so surly a tone that they thought it better to keep silence. Coffee was served. Shears swallowed the contents of his cup and rose from his chair.

At that moment, a servant entered with a telephone message for him. Shears opened it and read:

"Accept my enthusiastic admiration. Results obtained by you in so short a time make my head reel. I feel quite giddy.

"ARSENE LUPIN."

He could not suppress a gesture of annoyance and, showing the telegram to the baron:

"Do you begin to believe," he said, "that your walls have eyes and ears?"

"I can't understand it," murmured M. d'Imblevalle, astounded.

"Nor I. But what I do understand is that not a movement takes place here unperceived by him. Not a word is spoken but he hears it."

* * * * *

That evening, Wilson went to bed with the easy conscience of a man who has done his duty and who has no other business before him than to go to sleep. So he went to sleep very quickly and was visited by beautiful dreams, in which he was hunting down Lupin all by himself and just on the point of arresting him with his own hand; and the feeling of the pursuit was so lifelike that he woke up.

Some one was touching his bed. He seized his revolver:

"Another movement, Lupin, and I shoot!"

"Steady, old chap, steady on!"

"Hullo, is that you, Shears? Do you want me?"

"I want your eyes. Get up...."

He led him to the window:

"Look over there ... beyond the railings...."

"In the park?"

"Yes. Do you see anything?"

"No, nothing."

"Try again; I am sure you see something."

"Oh, so I do: a shadow ... no, two!"

"I thought so: against the railings.... See, they're moving.... Let's lose no time."

Groping and holding on to the banister, they made their way down the stairs and came to a room that opened on to the garden steps. Through the glass doors, they could see the two figures still in the same place.

"It's curious," said Shears. "I seem to hear noises in the house."

"In the house? Impossible! Everbody's asleep."

"Listen, though...."

At that moment, a faint whistle sounded from the railings and they perceived an undecided light that seemed to come from the house.