“It’s he all right,” said Prasville, who had feared for a moment that Lupin might have sent another M. Nicole to see him. “And the fact that he has come in person proves that he does not suspect that I have seen through him.” And, for the third time, he said, “All the same, what a nerve!”
He shut the door of his office and called his secretary:
“M. Lartigue, I am having a rather dangerous person shown in here. The chances are that he will have to leave my office with the bracelets4 on. As soon as he is in my room, make all the necessary arrangements: send for a dozen inspectors5 and have them posted in the waiting-room and in your office. And take this as a definite instruction: the moment I ring, you are all to come in, revolvers in hand, and surround the fellow. Do you quite understand?”
“Yes, monsieur le secretaire-general.”
“Above all, no hesitation6. A sudden entrance, in a body, revolvers in hand. Send M. Nicole in, please.”
As soon as he was alone, Prasville covered the push of an electric bell on his desk with some papers and placed two revolvers of respectable dimensions behind a rampart of books.
“And now,” he said to himself, “to sit tight. If he has the list, let’s collar it. If he hasn’t, let’s collar him. And, if possible, let’s collar both. Lupin and the list of the Twenty-seven, on the same day, especially after the scandal of this morning, would be a scoop7 in a thousand.”
There was a knock at the door.
“Come in!” said Prasville.
And, rising from his seat:
“Come in, M. Nicole, come in.”
M. Nicole crept timidly into the room, sat down on the extreme edge of the chair to which Prasville pointed8 and said:
“I have come...to resume... our conversation of yesterday... Please excuse the delay, monsieur.”
“One second,” said Prasville. “Will you allow me?”
He stepped briskly to the outer room and, seeing his secretary:
“I was forgetting, M. Lartigue. Have the staircases and passages searched... in case of accomplices11.”
He returned, settled himself comfortably, as though for a long and interesting conversation, and began:
“You were saying, M. Nicole?”
“I was saying, monsieur le secretaire-general, that I must apologize for keeping you waiting yesterday evening. I was detained by different matters. First of all, Mme. Mergy....”
“Yes, you had to see Mme. Mergy home.”
“Just so, and to look after her. You can understand the poor thing’s despair... Her son Gilbert so near death... And such a death!... At that time we could only hope for a miracle... an impossible miracle. I myself was resigned to the inevitable13... You know as well as I do, when fate shows itself implacable, one ends by despairing.”
“But I thought,” observed Prasville, “that your intention, on leaving me, was to drag Daubrecq’s secret from him at all costs.”
“Certainly. But Daubrecq was not in Paris.”
“Oh?”
“No. He was on his way to Paris in a motor-car.”
“Have you a motor-car, M. Nicole?”
“Yes, when I need it: an out-of-date concern, an old tin kettle of sorts. Well, he was on his way to Paris in a motor-car, or rather on the roof of a motor-car, inside a trunk in which I packed him. But, unfortunately, the motor was unable to reach Paris until after the execution. Thereupon...”
Prasville stared at M. Nicole with an air of stupefaction. If he had retained the least doubt of the individual’s real identity, this manner of dealing14 with Daubrecq would have removed it. By Jingo! To pack a man in a trunk and pitch him on the top of a motorcar!... No one but Lupin would indulge in such a freak, no one but Lupin would confess it with that ingenuous15 coolness!
“I cast about for another method.”
“What method?”
“Why, surely, monsieur le secretaire-general, you know as well as I do!”
“How do you mean?”
“Why, weren’t you at the execution?”
“I was.”
“In that case, you saw both Vaucheray and the executioner hit, one mortally, the other with a slight wound. And you can’t fail to see...”
“Oh,” exclaimed Prasville, dumbfounded, “you confess it? It was you who fired the shots, this morning?”
“Come, monsieur le secretaire-general, think! What choice had I? The list of the Twenty-seven which you examined was a forgery17. Daubrecq, who possessed18 the genuine one, would not arrive until a few hours after the execution. There was therefore but one way for me to save Gilbert and obtain his pardon; and that was to delay the execution by a few hours.”
“Obviously.”
“Well, of course. By killing19 that infamous20 brute21, that hardened criminal, Vaucheray, and wounding the executioner, I spread disorder22 and panic; I made Gilbert’s execution physically23 and morally impossible; and I thus gained the few hours which were indispensable for my purpose.”
“Obviously,” repeated Prasville.
“Well, of course,” repeated Lupin, “it gives us all—the government, the president and myself—time to reflect and to see the question in a clearer light. What do you think of it, monsieur le secretaire-general?”
Prasville thought a number of things, especially that this Nicole was giving proof, to use a vulgar phrase, of the most infernal cheek, of a cheek so great that Prasville felt inclined to ask himself if he was really right in identifying Nicole with Lupin and Lupin with Nicole.
“I think, M. Nicole, that a man has to be a jolly good shot to kill a person whom he wants to kill, at a distance of a hundred yards, and to wound another person whom he only wants to wound.”
“I have had some little practice,” said M. Nicole, with modest air.
“And I also think that your plan can only be the fruit of a long preparation.”
“Not at all! That’s where you’re wrong! It was absolutely spontaneous! If my servant, or rather the servant of the friend who lent me his flat in the Place de Clichy, had not shaken me out of my sleep, to tell me that he had once served as a shopman in that little house on the Boulevard Arago, that it did not hold many tenants24 and that there might be something to be done there, our poor Gilbert would have had his head cut off by now... and Mme. Mergy would most likely be dead.”
“Oh, you think so?”
“I am sure of it. And that was why I jumped at that faithful retainer’s suggestion. Only, you interfered25 with my plans, monsieur le secretaire-general.”
“I did?”
“Yes. You must needs go and take the three-cornered precaution of posting twelve men at the door of my house. I had to climb five flights of back stairs and go out through the servants’ corridor and the next house. Such useless fatigue26!”
“I am very sorry, M. Nicole. Another time...”
“It was the same thing at eight o’clock this morning, when I was waiting for the motor which was bringing Daubrecq to me in his trunk: I had to march up and down the Place de Clichy, so as to prevent the car from stopping outside the door of my place and your men from interfering27 in my private affairs. Otherwise, once again, Gilbert and Clarisse Mergy would have been lost.”
“But,” said Prasville, “those painful events, it seems to me, are only delayed for a day, two days, three days at most. To avert28 them for good and all we should want...”
“The real list, I suppose?”
“Exactly. And I daresay you haven’t got it.”
“Yes, I have.”
“The genuine list?”
“The genuine, the undoubtedly29 genuine list.”
“With the cross of Lorraine?”
“With the cross of Lorraine.”
Prasville was silent. He was labouring under violent emotion, now that the duel30 was commencing with that adversary31 of whose terrifying superiority he was well aware; and he shuddered32 at the idea that Arsene Lupin, the formidable Arsene Lupin, was there, in front of him, calm and placid33, pursuing his aims with as much coolness as though he had all the weapons in his hands and were face to face with a disarmed34 enemy.
Not yet daring to deliver a frontal attack, feeling almost intimidated35, Prasville said:
“So Daubrecq gave it up to you?”
“Daubrecq gives nothing up. I took it.”
“By main force, therefore?”
“Oh, dear, no!” said M. Nicole, laughing. “Of course, I was ready to go to all lengths; and, when that worthy36 Daubrecq was dug out of the basket in which he had been travelling express, with an occasional dose of chloroform to keep his strength up, I had prepared things so that the fun might begin at once. Oh, no useless tortures... no vain sufferings! No... Death, simply... You press the point of a long needle on the chest, where the heart is, and insert it gradually, softly and gently. That’s all but the point would have been driven by Mme. Mergy. You understand: a mother is pitiless, a mother whose son is about to die!... ‘Speak, Daubrecq, or I’ll go deeper.... You won’t speak?... Then I’ll push another quarter of an inch... and another still.’ And the patient’s heart stops beating, the heart that feels the needle coming... And another quarter of an inch... and one more... I swear before Heaven that the villain37 would have spoken!... We leant over him and waited for him to wake, trembling with impatience39, so urgent was our hurry... Can’t you picture the scene, monsieur le secretaire-general? The scoundrel lying on a sofa, well bound, bare-chested, making efforts to throw off the fumes40 of chloroform that dazed him. He breathes quicker... He gasps41... He recovers consciousness...his lips move.... Already, Clarisse Mergy whispers, ‘It’s I... it’s I, Clarisse... Will you answer, you wretch42?’ She has put her finger on Daubrecq’s chest, at the spot where the heart stirs like a little animal hidden under the skin. But she says to me, ‘His eyes... his eyes... I can’t see them under the spectacles... I want to see them... ‘And I also want to see those eyes which I do not know, I want to see their anguish43 and I want to read in them, before I hear a word, the secret which is about to burst from the inmost recesses44 of the terrified body. I want to see. I long to see. The action which I am about to accomplish excites me beyond measure. It seems to me that, when I have seen the eyes, the veil will be rent asunder45. I shall know things. It is a presentiment46. It is the profound intuition of the truth that keeps me on tenterhooks47. The eye-glasses are gone. But the thick opaque48 spectacles are there still. And I snatch them off, suddenly. And, suddenly, startled by a disconcerting vision, dazzled by the quick light that breaks in upon me and laughing, oh, but laughing fit to break my jaws49, with my thumb—do you understand? with my thumb—hop12, I force out the left eye!”
M. Nicole was really laughing, as he said, fit to break his jaws. And he was no longer the timid little unctuous50 and obsequious51 provincial52 usher53, but a well-set-up fellow, who, after reciting and mimicking54 the whole scene with impressive ardour, was now laughing with a shrill55 laughter the sound of which made Prasville’s flesh creep:
“Hop! Jump, Marquis! Out of your kennel56, Towzer! What’s the use of two eyes? It’s one more than you want. Hop! I say, Clarisse, look at it rolling over the carpet! Mind Daubrecq’s eye! Be careful with the grate!”
M. Nicole, who had risen and pretended to be hunting after something across the room, now sat down again, took from his pocket a thing shaped like a marble, rolled it in the hollow of his hand, chucked it in the air, like a ball, put it back in his fob and said, coolly:
“Daubrecq’s left eye.”
Prasville was utterly57 bewildered. What was his strange visitor driving at? What did all this story mean? Pale with excitement, he said:
“Explain yourself.”
“But it’s all explained, it seems to me. And it fits in so well with things as they were, fits in with all the conjectures58 which I had been making in spite of myself and which would inevitably59 have led to my solving the mystery, if that damned Daubrecq had not so cleverly sent me astray! Yes, think, follow the trend of my suppositions: ‘As the list is not to be discovered away from Daubrecq,’ I said to myself, ‘it cannot exist away from Daubrecq. And, as it is not to be discovered in the clothes he wears, it must be hidden deeper still, in himself, to speak plainly, in his flesh, under his skin...”
“In his eye, perhaps?” suggested Prasville, by way of a joke...
“In his eye? Monsieur le secretaire-general, you have said the word.”
“What?”
“I repeat, in his eye. And it is a truth that ought to have occurred to my mind logically, instead of being revealed to me by accident. And I will tell you why. Daubrecq knew that Clarisse had seen a letter from him instructing an English manufacturer to ‘empty the crystal within, so as to leave a void which it was unpossible to suspect.’ Daubrecq was bound, in prudence60, to divert any attempt at search. And it was for this reason that he had a crystal stopper made, ‘emptied within,’ after a model supplied by himself. And it is this crystal stopper which you and I have been after for months; and it is this crystal stopper which I dug out of a packet of tobacco. Whereas all I had to do...”
“Was what?” asked Prasville, greatly puzzled.
M. Nicole burst into a fresh fit of laughter:
“Was simply to go for Daubrecq’s eye, that eye ‘emptied within so as to leave a void which it is impossible to suspect,’ the eye which you see before you.”
And M. Nicole once more took the thing from his pocket and rapped the table with it, producing the sound of a hard body with each rap.
Prasville whispered, in astonishment61:
“A glass eye!”
“Why, of course!” cried M. Nicole, laughing gaily62. “A glass eye! A common or garden decanter-stopper, which the rascal63 stuck into his eyesocket in the place of an eye which he had lost—a decanter-stopper, or, if you prefer, a crystal stopper, but the real one, this time, which he faked, which he hid behind the double bulwark64 of his spectacles and eye-glasses, which contained and still contains the talisman65 that enabled Daubrecq to work as he pleased in safety.”
Prasville lowered his head and put his hand to his forehead to hide his flushed face: he was almost possessing the list of the Twenty-seven. It lay before him, on the table.
Mastering his emotion, he said, in a casual tone:
“So it is there still?”
“At least, I suppose so,” declared M. Nicole.
“What! You suppose so?”
“I have not opened the hiding-place. I thought, monsieur le secretaire-general, I would reserve that honour for you.”
Prasville put out his hand, took the thing up and inspected it. It was a block of crystal, imitating nature to perfection, with all the details of the eyeball, the iris66, the pupil, the cornea.
He at once saw a movable part at the back, which slid in a groove67. He pushed it. The eye was hollow.
There was a tiny ball of paper inside. He unfolded it, smoothed it out and, quickly, without delaying to make a preliminary examination of the names, the hand-writing or the signatures, he raised his arms and turned the paper to the light from the windows.
“Is the cross of Lorraine there?” asked M. Nicole.
“Yes, it is there,” replied Prasville. “This is the genuine list.”
He hesitated a few seconds and remained with his arms raised, while reflecting what he would do. Then he folded up the paper again, replaced it in its little crystal sheath and put the whole thing in his pocket. M. Nicole, who was looking at him, asked:
“Are you convinced?”
“Absolutely.”
“Then we are agreed?”
“We are agreed.”
There was a pause, during which the two men watched each other without appearing to. M. Nicole seemed to be waiting for the conversation to be resumed. Prasville, sheltered behind the piles of books on the table, sat with one hand grasping his revolver and the other touching68 the push of the electric bell. He felt the whole strength of his position with a keen zest69. He held the list. He held Lupin:
“If he moves,” he thought, “I cover him with my revolver and I ring. If he attacks me, I shoot.”
And the situation appeared to him so pleasant that he prolonged it, with the exquisite70 relish71 of an epicure72.
In the end, M. Nicole took up the threads:
“As we are agreed, monsieur le secretaire-general, I think there is nothing left for you to do but to hurry. Is the execution to take place to-morrow?”
“Yes, to-morrow.”
“In that case, I shall wait here.”
“Wait for what?”
“The answer from the Elysee.”
“Oh, is some one to bring you an answer?”
“Yes.”
“You, monsieur le secretaire-general.”
Prasville shook his head:
“You must not count on me, M. Nicole.”
“Really?” said M. Nicole, with an air of surprise. “May I ask the reason?”
“I have changed my mind.”
“Is that all?”
“That’s all. I have come to the conclusion that, as things stand, after this last scandal, it is impossible to try to do anything in Gilbert’s favour. Besides, an attempt in this direction at the Elysee, under present conditions, would constitute a regular case of blackmail73, to which I absolutely decline to lend myself.”
“You are free to do as you please, monsieur. Your scruples74 do you honour, though they come rather late, for they did not trouble you yesterday. But, in that case, monsieur le secretaire-general, as the compact between us is destroyed, give me back the list of the Twenty-seven.”
“What for?”
“So that I may apply to another spokesman.”
“What’s the good? Gilbert is lost.”
“Not at all, not at all. On the contrary, I consider that, now that his accomplice10 is dead, it will be much easier to grant him a pardon which everybody will look upon as fair and humane75. Give me back the list.”
“Upon my word, monsieur, you have a short memory and none too nice a conscience. Have you forgotten your promise of yesterday?”
“Yesterday, I made a promise to a M. Nicole.”
“Well?”
“You are not M. Nicole.”
“Indeed! Then, pray, who am I?”
“Need I tell you?”
M. Nicole made no reply, but began to laugh softly, as though pleased at the curious turn which the conversation was taking; and Prasville felt a vague misgiving76 at observing that fit of merriment. He grasped the butt-end of his revolver and wondered whether he ought not to ring for help.
M. Nicole drew his chair close to the desk, put his two elbows on the table, looked Prasville straight in the face and jeered77:
“So, M. Prasville, you know who I am and you have the assurance to play this game with me?”
“Which proves that you consider me, Arsene Lupin—we may as well use the name: yes, Arsene Lupin—which proves that you consider me fool enough, dolt80 enough to deliver myself like this, bound hand and foot into your hands.”
“Upon my word,” said Prasville, airily, patting the waistcoat-pocket in which he had secreted81 the crystal ball, “I don’t quite see what you can do, M. Nicole, now that Daubrecq’s eye is here, with the list of the Twenty-seven inside it.”
“What I can do?” echoed M. Nicole, ironically.
“Yes! The talisman no longer protects you; and you are now no better off than any other man who might venture into the very heart of the police-office, among some dozens of stalwart fellows posted behind each of those doors and some hundreds of others who will hasten up at the first signal.”
“Shall I tell you what is happening, monsieur le secretaire-general? Well, you too are having your head turned by all this business. Now that you possess the list, your state of mind has suddenly sunk to that of a Daubrecq or a d’Albufex. There is no longer even a question, in your thoughts, of taking it to your superiors, so that this ferment84 of disgrace and discord85 may be ended. No, no; a sodden86 temptation has seized upon you and intoxicated87 you; and, losing your head, you say to yourself, ‘It is here, in my pocket. With its aid, I am omnipotent88. It means wealth, absolute, unbounded power. Why not benefit by it? Why not let Gilbert and Clarisse Mergy die? Why not lock up that idiot of a Lupin? Why not seize this unparalleled piece of fortune by the forelock?’”
He bent toward Prasville and, very softly, in a friendly and confidential89 tone, said:
“Don’t do that, my dear sir, don’t do it.”
“And why not?”
“It is not to your interest, believe me.”
“Really!”
“No. Or, if you absolutely insist on doing it, have the kindness first to consult the twenty-seven names on the list of which you have just robbed me and reflect, for a moment, on the name of the third person on it.”
“Oh? And what is the name of that third person?”
“It is the name of a friend of yours.”
“What friend?”
“Stanislas Vorenglade, the ex-deputy.”
“And then?” said Prasville, who seemed to be losing some of his self-confidence.
“Then? Ask yourself if an inquiry90, however summary, would not end by discovering, behind that Stanislas Vorenglade, the name of one who shared certain little profits with him.”
“And whose name is?”
“Louis Prasville.”
M. Nicole banged the table with his fist.
“Enough of this humbug91, monsieur! For twenty minutes, you and I have been beating about the bush. That will do. Let us understand each other. And, to begin with, drop your pistols. You can’t imagine that I am frightened of those playthings! Stand up, sir, stand up, as I am doing, and finish the business: I am in a hurry.”
He put his hand on Prasville’s shoulder and, speaking with great deliberation, said:
“If, within an hour from now, you are not back from the Elysee, bringing with you a line to say that the decree of pardon has been signed; if, within one hour and ten minutes, I, Arsene Lupin, do not walk out of this building safe and sound and absolutely free, this evening four Paris newspapers will receive four letters selected from the correspondence exchanged between Stanislas Vorenglade and yourself, the correspondence which Stanislas Vorenglade sold me this morning. Here’s your hat, here’s your overcoat, here’s your stick. Be off. I will wait for you.”
Then happened this extraordinary and yet easily understood thing, that Prasville did not raise the slightest protest nor make the least show of fight. He received the sudden, far-reaching, utter conviction of what the personality known as Arsene Lupin meant, in all its breadth and fulness. He did not so much as think of carping, of pretending—as he had until then believed—that the letters had been destroyed by Vorenglade the deputy or, at any rate, that Vorenglade would not dare to hand them over, because, in so doing, Vorenglade was also working his own destruction. No, Prasville did not speak a word. He felt himself caught in a vise of which no human strength could force the jaws asunder. There was nothing to do but yield. He yielded.
“Here, in an hour,” repeated M. Nicole.
“In an hour,” said Prasville, tamely. Nevertheless, in order to know exactly where he stood, he added, “The letters, of course, will be restored to me against Gilbert’s pardon?”
“No.”
“How do you mean, no? In that case, there is no object in...”
“They will be restored to you, intact, two months after the day when my friends and I have brought about Gilbert’s escape... thanks to the very slack watch which will be kept upon him, in accordance with your orders.”
“Is that all?”
“No, there are two further conditions: first, the immediate92 payment of a cheque for forty thousand francs.”
“Forty thousand francs?”
“The sum for which Stanislas Vorenglade sold me the letters. It is only fair...”
“And next?”
“Secondly, your resignation, within six months, of your present position.”
“My resignation? But why?”
“Because it is against public morals that one of the highest positions in the police-service should be occupied by a man whose hands are not absolutely clean. Make them send you to parliament or appoint you a minister, a councillor of State, an ambassador, in short, any post which your success in the Daubrecq case entitles you to demand. But not secretary-general of police; anything but that! The very thought of it disgusts me.”
Prasville reflected for a moment. He would have rejoiced in the sudden destruction of his adversary and he racked his brain for the means to effect it. But he was helpless.
He went to the door and called:
“M. Lartigue.” And, sinking his voice, but not very low, for he wished M. Nicole to hear, “M. Lartigue, dismiss your men. It’s a mistake. And let no one come into my office while I am gone. This gentleman will wait for me here.”
He came back, took the hat, stick and overcoat which M. Nicole handed him and went out.
“Well done, sir,” said Lupin, between his teeth, when the door was closed. “You have behaved like a sportsman and a gentleman... So did I, for that matter... perhaps with too obvious a touch of contempt... and a little too bluntly. But, tush, this sort of business has to be carried through with a high hand! The enemy’s got to be staggered! Besides, when one’s own conscience is clear, one can’t take up too bullying94 a tone with that sort of individual. Lift your head, Lupin. You have been the champion of outraged95 morality. Be proud of your work. And now take a chair, stretch out your legs and have a rest. You’ve deserved it.”
When Prasville returned, he found Lupin sound asleep and had to tap him on the shoulder to wake him.
“Is it done?” asked Lupin.
“It’s done. The pardon will be signed presently. Here is the written promise.”
“The forty thousand francs?”
“Here’s your cheque.”
“So the correspondence...”
“The Stanislas Vorenglade correspondence will be handed to you on the conditions stated. However, I am glad to be able to give you, here and now, as a sign of my gratitude97, the four letters which I meant to send to the papers this evening.”
“Oh, so you had them on you?” said Prasville.
“I felt so certain, monsieur le secretaire-general, that we should end by coming to an understanding.”
He took from his hat a fat envelope, sealed with five red seals, which was pinned inside the lining98, and handed it to Prasville, who thrust it into his pocket. Then he said:
“Monsieur le secretaire-general, I don’t know when I shall have the pleasure of seeing you again. If you have the least communication to make to me, one line in the agony column of the Journal will be sufficient. Just head it, ‘M. Nicole.’ Good-day to you.”
And he withdrew.
Prasville, when he was alone, felt as if he were waking from a nightmare during which he had performed incoherent actions over which his conscious mind had no control. He was almost thinking of ringing and causing a stir in the passages; but, just then, there was a tap at the door and one of the office-messengers came hurrying in.
“What’s the matter?” asked Prasville.
“Monsieur le secretaire-general, it’s Monsieur le Depute Daubrecq asking to see you... on a matter of the highest importance.”
“Daubrecq!” exclaimed Prasville, in bewilderment. “Daubrecq here! Show him in.”
Daubrecq had not waited for the order. He ran up to Prasville, out of breath, with his clothes in disorder, a bandage over his left eye, no tie, no collar, looking like an escaped lunatic; and the door was not closed before he caught hold of Prasville with his two enormous hands:
“Have you the list?”
“Yes.”
“Have you bought it?”
“Yes.”
“At the price of Gilbert’s pardon?”
“Yes.”
“Is it signed?”
“Yes.”
Daubrecq made a furious gesture:
“You fool! You fool! You’ve been trapped! For hatred99 of me, I expect? And now you’re going to take your revenge?”
“With a certain satisfaction, Daubrecq. Remember my little friend, the opera-dancer, at Nice... It’s your turn now to dance.”
“So it means prison?”
“I should think so,” said Prasville. “Besides, it doesn’t matter. You’re done for, anyhow. Deprived of the list, without defence of any kind, you’re bound to fall to pieces of your own weight. And I shall be present at the break-up. That’s my revenge.”
“And you believe that!” yelled Daubrecq, furiously. “You believe that they will wring100 my neck like a chicken’s and that I shall not know how to defend myself and that I have no claws left and no teeth to bite with! Well, my boy, if I do come to grief, there’s always one who will fall with me and that is Master Prasville, the partner of Stanislas Vorenglade, who is going to hand me every proof in existence against him, so that I may get him sent to gaol101 without delay. Aha, I’ve got you fixed102, old chap! With those letters, you’ll go as I please, hang it all, and there will be fine days yet for Daubrecq the deputy! What! You’re laughing, are you? Perhaps those letters don’t exist?”
Prasville shrugged his shoulders:
“Yes, they exist. But Vorenglade no longer has them in his possession.”
“Since when?”
“Since this morning. Vorenglade sold them, two hours ago, for the sum of forty thousand francs; and I have bought them back at the same price.”
Daubrecq burst into a great roar of laughter:
“Lord, how funny! Forty thousand francs! You’ve paid forty thousand francs! To M. Nicole, I suppose, who sold you the list of the Twenty-seven? Well, would you like me to tell you the real name of M. Nicole? It’s Arsene Lupin!”
“I know that.”
“Very likely. But what you don’t know, you silly ass9, is that I have come straight from Stanislas Vorenglade’s and that Stanislas Vorenglade left Paris four days ago! Oh, what a joke! They’ve sold you waste paper! And your forty thousand francs! What an ass! What an ass!”
He walked out of the room, screaming with laughter and leaving Prasville absolutely dumbfounded.
So Arsene Lupin possessed no proof at all; and, when he was threatening and commanding and treating Prasville with that airy insolence103, it was all a farce104, all bluff105!
“No, no, it’s impossible,” thought the secretary-general. “I have the sealed envelope.... It’s here.... I have only to open it.”
He dared not open it. He handled it, weighed it, examined it... And doubt made its way so swiftly into his mind that he was not in the least surprised, when he did open it, to find that it contained four blank sheets of note-paper.
And, in point of fact, all was not over. If Lupin had acted so daringly, it showed that the letters existed and that he relied upon buying them from Stanislas Vorenglade. But, as, on the other hand, Vorenglade was not in Paris, Prasville’s business was simply to forestall107 Lupin’s steps with regard to Vorenglade and obtain the restitution108 of those dangerous letters from Vorenglade at all costs. The first to arrive would be the victor.
Prasville once more took his hat, coat and stick, went downstairs, stepped into a taxi and drove to Vorenglade’s flat.
Here he was told that the ex-deputy was expected home from London at six o’clock that evening.
It was two o’clock in the afternoon. Prasville therefore had plenty of time to prepare his plan.
He arrived at the Gare du Nord at five o’clock and posted all around, in the waiting-rooms and in the railway-offices, the three or four dozen detectives whom he had brought with him.
This made him feel easy. If M. Nicole tried to speak to Vorenglade, they would arrest Lupin. And, to make assurance doubly sure, they would arrest whosoever could be suspected of being either Lupin or one of Lupin’s emissaries.
Moreover, Prasville made a close inspection109 of the whole station. He discovered nothing suspicious. But, at ten minutes to six, Chief-inspector Blanchon, who was with him, said:
“Look, there’s Daubrecq.”
Daubrecq it was; and the sight of his enemy exasperated110 the secretary-general to such a pitch that he was on the verge111 of having him arrested. But he reflected that he had no excuse, no right, no warrant for the arrest.
Besides, Daubrecq’s presence proved, with still greater force, that everything now depended on Stanislas Vorenglade. Vorenglade possessed the letters: who would end by having them? Daubrecq? Lupin? Or he, Prasville?
Lupin was not there and could not be there. Daubrecq was not in a position to fight. There could be no doubt, therefore, about the result: Prasville would reenter into possession of his letters and, through this very fact, would escape Daubrecq’s threats and Lupin’s threats and recover all his freedom of action against them.
The train arrived.
In accordance with orders, the stationmaster had issued instructions that no one was to be admitted to the platform. Prasville, therefore, walked on alone, in front of a number of his men, with Chief-inspector Blanchon at their head.
The train drew up.
Prasville almost at once saw Stanislas Vorenglade at the window of a first-class compartment112, in the middle of the train.
The ex-deputy alighted and then held out his hand to assist an old gentleman who was travelling with him.
Prasville ran up to him and said, eagerly:
“Vorenglade... I want to speak to you...”
At the same moment, Daubrecq, who had managed to pass the barrier, appeared and exclaimed:
“M. Vorenglade, I have had your letter. I am at your disposal.”
Vorenglade looked at the two men, recognized Prasville, recognized Daubrecq, and smiled:
“Oho, it seems that my return was awaited with some impatience! What’s it all about? Certain letters, I expect?”
“Yes... yes...” replied the two men, fussing around him.
“You’re too late,” he declared.
“Eh? What? What do you mean?”
“I mean that the letters are sold.”
“Sold! To whom?”
“To this gentleman,” said Vorenglade, pointing to his travelling-companion, “to this gentleman, who thought that the business was worth going out of his way for and who came to Amiens to meet me.”
The old gentleman, a very old man wrapped in furs and leaning on his stick, took off his hat and bowed.
“It’s Lupin,” thought Prasville, “it’s Lupin, beyond a doubt.”
And he glanced toward the detectives, was nearly calling them, but the old gentleman explained:
“Yes, I thought the letters were good enough to warrant a few hours’ railway journey and the cost of two return tickets.”
“Two tickets?”
“One for me and the other for one of my friends.”
“One of your friends?”
“Yes, he left us a few minutes ago and reached the front part of the train through the corridor. He was in a great hurry.”
Prasville understood: Lupin had taken the precaution to bring an accomplice, and the accomplice was carrying off the letters. The game was lost, to a certainty. Lupin had a firm grip on his victim. There was nothing to do but submit and accept the conqueror’s conditions.
“Very well, sir,” said Prasville. “We shall see each other when the time comes. Good-bye for the present, Daubrecq: you shall hear from me.” And, drawing Vorenglade aside, “As for you, Vorenglade, you are playing a dangerous game.”
“Dear me!” said the ex-deputy. “And why?”
The two men moved away.
Daubrecq had not uttered a word and stood motionless, as though rooted to the ground.
The old gentleman went up to him and whispered:
“I say, Daubrecq, wake up, old chap... It’s the chloroform, I expect...”
“Ah, I see you know me!” said the old gentleman. “Then you will remember our interview, some months ago, when I came to see you in the Square Lamartine and asked you to intercede115 in Gilbert’s favour. I said to you that day, ‘Lay down your arms, save Gilbert and I will leave you in peace. If not, I shall take the list of the Twenty-seven from you; and then you’re done for.’ Well, I have a strong suspicion that done for is what you are. That comes of not making terms with kind M. Lupin. Sooner or later, you’re bound to lose your boots by it. However, let it be a lesson to you.
“By the way, here’s your pocketbook which I forgot to give you. Excuse me if you find it lightened of its contents. There were not only a decent number of bank-notes in it, but also the receipt from the warehouse116 where you stored the Enghien things which you took back from me. I thought I might as well save you the trouble of taking them out yourself. It ought to be done by now. No, don’t thank me: it’s not worth mentioning. Good-bye, Daubrecq. And, if you should want a louis or two, to buy yourself a new decanter-stopper, drop me a line. Good-bye, Daubrecq.”
He walked away.
He had not gone fifty steps when he heard the sound of a shot.
He turned round.
Daubrecq had blown his brains out.
“De profundis,” murmured Lupin, taking off his hat.
Two months later, Gilbert, whose sentence had been commuted117 to one of penal118 servitude for life, made his escape from the Ile de Re, on the day before that on which he was to have been transported to New Caledonia.
It was a strange escape. Its least details remained difficult to understand; and, like the two shots on the Boulevard Arago, it greatly enhanced Arsene Lupin’s prestige.
“Taken all round,” said Lupin to me, one day, after telling me the different episodes of the story, “taken all around, no enterprise has ever given me more trouble or cost me greater exertions119 than that confounded adventure which, if you don’t mind, we will call, The Crystal Stopper; or, Never Say Die. In twelve hours, between six o’clock in the morning and six o’clock in the evening, I made up for six months of bad luck, blunders, gropings in the dark and reverses. I certainly count those twelve hours among the finest and the most glorious of my life.”
“And Gilbert?” I asked. “What became of him?”
“He is farming his own land, way down in Algeria, under his real name, his only name of Antoine Mergy. He is married to an Englishwoman, and they have a son whom he insisted on calling Arsene. I often receive a bright, chatty, warm-hearted letter from him.”
“And Mme. Mergy?”
“She and her little Jacques are living with them.”
“Did you see her again?”
“I did not.”
“Really!”
Lupin hesitated for a few moments and then said with a smile:
“My dear fellow, I will let you into a secret that will make me seem ridiculous in your eyes. But you know that I have always been as sentimental120 as a schoolboy and as silly as a goose. Well, on the evening when I went back to Clarisse Mergy and told her the news of the day—part of which, for that matter, she already knew—I felt two things very thoroughly121. One was that I entertained for her a much deeper feeling than I thought; the other that she, on the contrary, entertained for me a feeling which was not without contempt, not without a rankling122 grudge123 nor even a certain aversion.”
“Nonsense! Why?”
“Why? Because Clarisse Mergy is an exceedingly honest woman and because I am... just Arsene Lupin.”
“Oh!”
“Dear me, yes, an attractive bandit, a romantic and chivalrous124 cracksman, anything you please. For all that, in the eyes of a really honest woman, with an upright nature and a well-balanced mind, I am only the merest riff-raff.”
I saw that the wound was sharper than he was willing to admit, and I said:
“So you really loved her?”
“I even believe,” he said, in a jesting tone, “that I asked her to marry me. After all, I had saved her son, had I not?... So... I thought. What a rebuff!... It produced a coolness between us... Since then...”
“You have forgotten her?”
“Oh, certainly! But it required the consolations125 of one Italian, two Americans, three Russians, a German grand-duchess and a Chinawoman to do it!”
“And, after that...?”
“After that, so as to place an insuperable barrier between myself and her, I got married.”
“Nonsense! You got married, you, Arsene Lupin?”
“Married, wedded126, spliced127, in the most lawful128 fashion. One of the greatest names in France. An only daughter. A colossal129 fortune... What! You don’t know the story? Well, it’s worth hearing.”
And, straightway, Lupin, who was in a confidential vein130, began to tell me the story of his marriage to Angelique de Sarzeau-Vendome, Princesse de Bourbon-Conde, to-day Sister Marie-Auguste, a humble131 nun132 in the Visitation Convent... [*]
* See The Confessions133 of Arsene Lupin By Maurice Leblanc
Translated by Alexander Teixeira de Mattos
But, after the first few words, he stopped, as though his narrative134 had suddenly ceased to interest him, and he remained pensive135.
“What’s the matter, Lupin?”
“The matter? Nothing.”
“Yes, yes... There... now you’re smiling... Is it Daubrecq’s secret receptacle, his glass eye, that’s making you laugh?”
“Not at all.”
“What then?”
“Nothing, I tell you... only a memory.”
“A pleasant memory?”
“Yes!... Yes, a delightful136 memory even. It was at night, off the Ile de Re, on the fishing-smack in which Clarisse and I were taking Gilbert away.... We were alone, the two of us, in the stern of the boat... And I remember ... I talked... I spoke38 words and more words... I said all that I had on my heart... And then... then came silence, a perturbing137 and disarming138 silence.”
“Well?”
“Well, I swear to you that the woman whom I took in my arms that night and kissed on the lips—oh, not for long: a few seconds only, but no matter!—I swear before heaven that she was something more than a grateful mother, something more than a friend yielding to a moment of susceptibility, that she was a woman also, a woman quivering with emotion ...” And he continued, with a bitter laugh, “Who ran away next day, never to see me again.”
He was silent once more. Then he whispered:
“Clarisse... Clarisse... On the day when I am tired and disappointed and weary of life, I will come to you down there, in your little Arab house ... in that little white house, Clarisse, where you are waiting for me...”
The End
The End
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1
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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2
ailing
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| v.生病 | |
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rusty
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| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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4
bracelets
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| n.手镯，臂镯( bracelet的名词复数 ) | |
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5
inspectors
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| n.检查员( inspector的名词复数 )；（英国公共汽车或火车上的）查票员；（警察）巡官；检阅官 | |
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6
hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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7
scoop
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| n.铲子，舀取，独家新闻；v.汲取，舀取，抢先登出 | |
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8
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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ass
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| n.驴；傻瓜，蠢笨的人 | |
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10
accomplice
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| n.从犯，帮凶，同谋 | |
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accomplices
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| 从犯，帮凶，同谋( accomplice的名词复数 ) | |
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12
hop
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| n.单脚跳，跳跃；vi.单脚跳，跳跃；着手做某事；vt.跳跃，跃过 | |
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13
inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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14
dealing
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| n.经商方法，待人态度 | |
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ingenuous
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| adj.纯朴的，单纯的；天真的；坦率的 | |
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16
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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17
forgery
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| n.伪造的文件等，赝品，伪造（行为） | |
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18
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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20
infamous
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| adj.声名狼藉的，臭名昭著的，邪恶的 | |
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21
brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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disorder
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| n.紊乱，混乱；骚动，骚乱；疾病，失调 | |
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23
physically
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| adj.物质上，体格上，身体上，按自然规律 | |
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24
tenants
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| n.房客( tenant的名词复数 )；佃户；占用者；占有者 | |
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25
interfered
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| v.干预( interfere的过去式和过去分词 )；调停；妨碍；干涉 | |
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26
fatigue
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| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
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27
interfering
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| adj. 妨碍的 动词interfere的现在分词 | |
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28
avert
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| v.防止，避免；转移(目光、注意力等) | |
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29
undoubtedly
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| adv.确实地，无疑地 | |
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30
duel
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| n./v.决斗；(双方的)斗争 | |
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31
adversary
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| adj.敌手，对手 | |
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32
shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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33
placid
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| adj.安静的，平和的 | |
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34
disarmed
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| v.裁军( disarm的过去式和过去分词 )；使息怒 | |
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35
intimidated
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| v.恐吓；威胁adj.害怕的；受到威胁的 | |
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36
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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37
villain
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| n.反派演员，反面人物；恶棍；问题的起因 | |
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38
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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39
impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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40
fumes
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| n.(强烈而刺激的)气味，气体 | |
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41
gasps
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| v.喘气( gasp的第三人称单数 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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42
wretch
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| n.可怜的人，不幸的人；卑鄙的人 | |
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43
anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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44
recesses
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| n.壁凹( recess的名词复数 )；（工作或业务活动的）中止或暂停期间；学校的课间休息；某物内部的凹形空间v.把某物放在墙壁的凹处( recess的第三人称单数 )；将（墙）做成凹形，在（墙）上做壁龛；休息，休会，休庭 | |
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45
asunder
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| adj.分离的，化为碎片 | |
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46
presentiment
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| n.预感，预觉 | |
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47
tenterhooks
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| n.坐立不安 | |
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48
opaque
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| adj.不透光的；不反光的，不传导的；晦涩的 | |
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49
jaws
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| n.口部；嘴 | |
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50
unctuous
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| adj.油腔滑调的，大胆的 | |
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51
obsequious
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| adj.谄媚的，奉承的，顺从的 | |
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52
provincial
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| adj.省的，地方的；n．外省人，乡下人 | |
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53
usher
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| n.带位员，招待员；vt.引导，护送；vi.做招待，担任引座员 | |
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54
mimicking
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| v.（尤指为了逗乐而）模仿( mimic的现在分词 )；酷似 | |
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55
shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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56
kennel
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| n.狗舍，狗窝 | |
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57
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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58
conjectures
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| 推测，猜想( conjecture的名词复数 ) | |
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59
inevitably
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| adv.不可避免地；必然发生地 | |
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60
prudence
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| n.谨慎，精明，节俭 | |
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61
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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62
gaily
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| adv.欢乐地，高兴地 | |
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63
rascal
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| n.流氓；不诚实的人 | |
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64
bulwark
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| n.堡垒，保障，防御 | |
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65
talisman
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| n.避邪物，护身符 | |
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66
iris
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| n.虹膜，彩虹 | |
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67
groove
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| n.沟，槽；凹线，（刻出的）线条，习惯 | |
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68
touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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69
zest
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| n.乐趣；滋味，风味；兴趣 | |
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70
exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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71
relish
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| n.滋味，享受，爱好，调味品；vt.加调味料，享受，品味；vi.有滋味 | |
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72
epicure
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| n.行家，美食家 | |
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73
blackmail
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| n.讹诈，敲诈，勒索，胁迫，恫吓 | |
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74
scruples
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| n.良心上的不安( scruple的名词复数 )；顾虑，顾忌v.感到于心不安，有顾忌( scruple的第三人称单数 ) | |
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75
humane
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| adj.人道的，富有同情心的 | |
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76
misgiving
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| n.疑虑，担忧，害怕 | |
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77
jeered
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| v.嘲笑( jeer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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78
sneer
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| v.轻蔑；嘲笑；n.嘲笑，讥讽的言语 | |
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79
flinching
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| v.（因危险和痛苦）退缩，畏惧( flinch的现在分词 ) | |
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80
dolt
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| n.傻瓜 | |
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81
secreted
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| v.（尤指动物或植物器官）分泌( secrete的过去式和过去分词 )；隐匿，隐藏 | |
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82
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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83
commiseration
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| n.怜悯，同情 | |
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84
ferment
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| vt.使发酵；n./vt.（使）激动，（使）动乱 | |
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85
discord
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| n.不和，意见不合，争论，（音乐）不和谐 | |
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86
sodden
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| adj.浑身湿透的；v.使浸透；使呆头呆脑 | |
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87
intoxicated
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| 喝醉的，极其兴奋的 | |
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88
omnipotent
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| adj.全能的，万能的 | |
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89
confidential
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| adj.秘（机）密的，表示信任的，担任机密工作的 | |
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inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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91
humbug
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| n.花招，谎话，欺骗 | |
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92
immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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93
dignified
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| a.可敬的，高贵的 | |
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94
bullying
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| v.恐吓，威逼( bully的现在分词 )；豪；跋扈 | |
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95
outraged
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| a.震惊的，义愤填膺的 | |
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96
remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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97
gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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98
lining
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| n.衬里，衬料 | |
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99
hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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100
wring
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| n.扭绞；v.拧，绞出，扭 | |
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101
gaol
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| n.(jail)监狱；(不加冠词)监禁；vt.使…坐牢 | |
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102
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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103
insolence
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| n.傲慢；无礼；厚颜；傲慢的态度 | |
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104
farce
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| n.闹剧，笑剧，滑稽戏；胡闹 | |
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105
bluff
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| v.虚张声势，用假象骗人；n.虚张声势，欺骗 | |
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106
rascals
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| 流氓( rascal的名词复数 )； 无赖； （开玩笑说法）淘气的人（尤指小孩）； 恶作剧的人 | |
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107
forestall
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| vt.抢在…之前采取行动；预先阻止 | |
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108
restitution
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| n.赔偿；恢复原状 | |
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109
inspection
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| n.检查，审查，检阅 | |
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110
exasperated
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| adj.恼怒的 | |
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111
verge
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| n.边，边缘；v.接近，濒临 | |
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112
compartment
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| n.卧车包房，隔间；分隔的空间 | |
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113
clenched
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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114
growl
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| v.（狗等）嗥叫，（炮等）轰鸣；n.嗥叫，轰鸣 | |
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115
intercede
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| vi.仲裁，说情 | |
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116
warehouse
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| n.仓库；vt.存入仓库 | |
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117
commuted
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| 通勤( commute的过去式和过去分词 )； 减（刑）； 代偿 | |
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118
penal
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| adj.刑罚的；刑法上的 | |
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119
exertions
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| n.努力( exertion的名词复数 )；费力；（能力、权力等的）运用；行使 | |
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120
sentimental
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| adj.多愁善感的，感伤的 | |
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121
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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122
rankling
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| v.（使）痛苦不已，（使）怨恨不已( rankle的现在分词 ) | |
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123
grudge
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| n.不满，怨恨，妒嫉；vt.勉强给，不情愿做 | |
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124
chivalrous
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| adj.武士精神的；对女人彬彬有礼的 | |
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125
consolations
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| n.安慰，慰问( consolation的名词复数 )；起安慰作用的人（或事物） | |
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126
wedded
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| adj.正式结婚的；渴望…的，执著于…的v.嫁，娶，（与…）结婚( wed的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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127
spliced
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| adj.（针织品）加固的n.叠接v.绞接( splice的过去式和过去分词 )；捻接（两段绳子）；胶接；粘接（胶片、磁带等） | |
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128
lawful
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| adj.法律许可的，守法的，合法的 | |
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129
colossal
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| adj.异常的，庞大的 | |
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130
vein
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| n.血管，静脉；叶脉，纹理；情绪；vt.使成脉络 | |
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131
humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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132
nun
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| n.修女，尼姑 | |
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133
confessions
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| n.承认( confession的名词复数 )；自首；声明；（向神父的）忏悔 | |
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134
narrative
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| n.叙述，故事；adj.叙事的，故事体的 | |
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135
pensive
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| a.沉思的,哀思的,忧沉的 | |
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136
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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137
perturbing
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| v.使（某人）烦恼，不安( perturb的现在分词 ) | |
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138
disarming
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| adj.消除敌意的，使人消气的v.裁军( disarm的现在分词 )；使息怒 | |
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