The Crystal Stopper

by Maurice Leblanc

  CHAPTER XIII. THE LAST BATTLE

  When Prasville returned to his office he saw M. Nicole sitting on abench in the waiting-room, with his bent back, his ailing air, hisgingham umbrella, his rusty hat and his single glove:

  "It's he all right," said Prasville, who had feared for a moment thatLupin might have sent another M. Nicole to see him. "And the fact thathe has come in person proves that he does not suspect that I have seenthrough him." And, for the third time, he said, "All the same, what anerve!"

  He shut the door of his office and called his secretary:

  "M. Lartigue, I am having a rather dangerous person shown in here. Thechances are that he will have to leave my office with the bracelets on.As soon as he is in my room, make all the necessary arrangements: sendfor a dozen inspectors and have them posted in the waiting-room and inyour 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. Doyou quite understand?"

  "Yes, monsieur le secretaire-general."

  "Above all, no hesitation. A sudden entrance, in a body, revolvers inhand. Send M. Nicole in, please."

  As soon as he was alone, Prasville covered the push of an electric bellon his desk with some papers and placed two revolvers of respectabledimensions behind a rampart of books.

  "And now," he said to himself, "to sit tight. If he has the list, let'scollar it. If he hasn't, let's collar him. And, if possible, let'scollar both. Lupin and the list of the Twenty-seven, on the same day,especially after the scandal of this morning, would be a scoop in athousand."

  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 ofthe chair to which Prasville pointed and said:

  "I have come...to resume... our conversation of yesterday... Pleaseexcuse 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 passagessearched... in case of accomplices."

  He returned, settled himself comfortably, as though for a long andinteresting conversation, and began:

  "You were saying, M. Nicole?"

  "I was saying, monsieur le secretaire-general, that I must apologizefor keeping you waiting yesterday evening. I was detained by differentmatters. 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'sdespair... Her son Gilbert so near death... And such a death!... At thattime we could only hope for a miracle... an impossible miracle. I myselfwas resigned to the inevitable... You know as well as I do, when fateshows itself implacable, one ends by despairing."

  "But I thought," observed Prasville, "that your intention, on leavingme, 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 ofsorts. Well, he was on his way to Paris in a motor-car, or rather onthe roof of a motor-car, inside a trunk in which I packed him. But,unfortunately, the motor was unable to reach Paris until after theexecution. Thereupon..."

  Prasville stared at M. Nicole with an air of stupefaction. If he hadretained the least doubt of the individual's real identity, this mannerof dealing with Daubrecq would have removed it. By Jingo! To pack a manin a trunk and pitch him on the top of a motorcar!... No one but Lupinwould indulge in such a freak, no one but Lupin would confess it withthat ingenuous coolness!

  "Thereupon," echoed Prasville, "you decided what?"

  "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, onemortally, the other with a slight wound. And you can't fail to see..."

  "Oh," exclaimed Prasville, dumbfounded, "you confess it? It was you whofired the shots, this morning?"

  "Come, monsieur le secretaire-general, think! What choice had I? Thelist of the Twenty-seven which you examined was a forgery. Daubrecq, whopossessed the genuine one, would not arrive until a few hours after theexecution. There was therefore but one way for me to save Gilbert andobtain his pardon; and that was to delay the execution by a few hours."

  "Obviously."

  "Well, of course. By killing that infamous brute, that hardenedcriminal, Vaucheray, and wounding the executioner, I spread disorder andpanic; I made Gilbert's execution physically and morally impossible; andI 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 aclearer light. What do you think of it, monsieur le secretaire-general?"

  Prasville thought a number of things, especially that this Nicole wasgiving proof, to use a vulgar phrase, of the most infernal cheek, ofa cheek so great that Prasville felt inclined to ask himself if he wasreally 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 aperson whom he wants to kill, at a distance of a hundred yards, and towound 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 longpreparation."

  "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 flatin the Place de Clichy, had not shaken me out of my sleep, to tellme that he had once served as a shopman in that little house on theBoulevard Arago, that it did not hold many tenants and that there mightbe something to be done there, our poor Gilbert would have had his headcut 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 faithfulretainer's suggestion. Only, you interfered with my plans, monsieur lesecretaire-general."

  "I did?"

  "Yes. You must needs go and take the three-cornered precaution ofposting twelve men at the door of my house. I had to climb five flightsof back stairs and go out through the servants' corridor and the nexthouse. Such useless fatigue!"

  "I am very sorry, M. Nicole. Another time..."

  "It was the same thing at eight o'clock this morning, when I was waitingfor the motor which was bringing Daubrecq to me in his trunk: I had tomarch up and down the Place de Clichy, so as to prevent the car fromstopping outside the door of my place and your men from interfering inmy private affairs. Otherwise, once again, Gilbert and Clarisse Mergywould have been lost."

  "But," said Prasville, "those painful events, it seems to me, are onlydelayed for a day, two days, three days at most. To avert them for goodand 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 undoubtedly genuine list."

  "With the cross of Lorraine?"

  "With the cross of Lorraine."

  Prasville was silent. He was labouring under violent emotion, nowthat the duel was commencing with that adversary of whose terrifyingsuperiority he was well aware; and he shuddered at the idea that ArseneLupin, the formidable Arsene Lupin, was there, in front of him, calm andplacid, pursuing his aims with as much coolness as though he had all theweapon
s in his hands and were face to face with a disarmed enemy.

  Not yet daring to deliver a frontal attack, feeling almost intimidated,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 goto all lengths; and, when that worthy Daubrecq was dug out of the basketin which he had been travelling express, with an occasional dose ofchloroform to keep his strength up, I had prepared things so that thefun might begin at once. Oh, no useless tortures... no vain sufferings!No... Death, simply... You press the point of a long needle on thechest, where the heart is, and insert it gradually, softly and gently.That's all but the point would have been driven by Mme. Mergy. Youunderstand: 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'llpush another quarter of an inch... and another still.' And the patient'sheart stops beating, the heart that feels the needle coming... Andanother quarter of an inch... and one more... I swear before Heaven thatthe villain would have spoken!... We leant over him and waited for himto wake, trembling with impatience, so urgent was our hurry... Can't youpicture the scene, monsieur le secretaire-general? The scoundrel lyingon a sofa, well bound, bare-chested, making efforts to throw off thefumes of chloroform that dazed him. He breathes quicker... He gasps...He recovers consciousness...his lips move.... Already, Clarisse Mergywhispers, 'It's I... it's I, Clarisse... Will you answer, you wretch?'She has put her finger on Daubrecq's chest, at the spot where the heartstirs 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 wantto see them... 'And I also want to see those eyes which I do not know,I want to see their anguish and I want to read in them, before I hear aword, the secret which is about to burst from the inmost recesses ofthe terrified body. I want to see. I long to see. The action which I amabout to accomplish excites me beyond measure. It seems to me that,when I have seen the eyes, the veil will be rent asunder. I shall knowthings. It is a presentiment. It is the profound intuition of the truththat keeps me on tenterhooks. The eye-glasses are gone. But the thickopaque spectacles are there still. And I snatch them off, suddenly. And,suddenly, startled by a disconcerting vision, dazzled by the quick lightthat breaks in upon me and laughing, oh, but laughing fit to break myjaws, with my thumb--do you understand? with my thumb--hop, I force outthe left eye!"

  M. Nicole was really laughing, as he said, fit to break his jaws. And hewas no longer the timid little unctuous and obsequious provincial usher,but a well-set-up fellow, who, after reciting and mimicking the wholescene with impressive ardour, was now laughing with a shrill laughterthe sound of which made Prasville's flesh creep:

  "Hop! Jump, Marquis! Out of your kennel, Towzer! What's the use of twoeyes? It's one more than you want. Hop! I say, Clarisse, look at itrolling over the carpet! Mind Daubrecq's eye! Be careful with thegrate!"

  M. Nicole, who had risen and pretended to be hunting after somethingacross the room, now sat down again, took from his pocket a thing shapedlike a marble, rolled it in the hollow of his hand, chucked it in theair, like a ball, put it back in his fob and said, coolly:

  "Daubrecq's left eye."

  Prasville was utterly bewildered. What was his strange visitor drivingat? 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 withthings as they were, fits in with all the conjectures which I had beenmaking in spite of myself and which would inevitably have led to mysolving the mystery, if that damned Daubrecq had not so cleverly sent meastray! Yes, think, follow the trend of my suppositions: 'As the list isnot to be discovered away from Daubrecq,' I said to myself, 'it cannotexist away from Daubrecq. And, as it is not to be discovered in theclothes he wears, it must be hidden deeper still, in himself, to speakplainly, 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 tomy mind logically, instead of being revealed to me by accident. And Iwill tell you why. Daubrecq knew that Clarisse had seen a letter fromhim instructing an English manufacturer to 'empty the crystal within,so as to leave a void which it was unpossible to suspect.' Daubrecq wasbound, in prudence, to divert any attempt at search. And it was for thisreason that he had a crystal stopper made, 'emptied within,' after amodel supplied by himself. And it is this crystal stopper which you andI have been after for months; and it is this crystal stopper which I dugout 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 toleave a void which it is impossible to suspect,' the eye which you seebefore you."

  And M. Nicole once more took the thing from his pocket and rapped thetable with it, producing the sound of a hard body with each rap.

  Prasville whispered, in astonishment:

  "A glass eye!"

  "Why, of course!" cried M. Nicole, laughing gaily. "A glass eye! Acommon or garden decanter-stopper, which the rascal stuck into hiseyesocket 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, whichhe faked, which he hid behind the double bulwark of his spectaclesand eye-glasses, which contained and still contains the talisman thatenabled Daubrecq to work as he pleased in safety."

  Prasville lowered his head and put his hand to his forehead to hide hisflushed face: he was almost possessing the list of the Twenty-seven. Itlay 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 lesecretaire-general, I would reserve that honour for you."

  Prasville put out his hand, took the thing up and inspected it. It wasa block of crystal, imitating nature to perfection, with all the detailsof the eyeball, the iris, the pupil, the cornea.

  He at once saw a movable part at the back, which slid in a groove. Hepushed it. The eye was hollow.

  There was a tiny ball of paper inside. He unfolded it, smoothed it outand, quickly, without delaying to make a preliminary examination of thenames, the hand-writing or the signatures, he raised his arms and turnedthe 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, whilereflecting what he would do. Then he folded up the paper again, replacedit 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 withoutappearing to. M. Nicole seemed to be waiting for the conversation to beresumed. Prasville, sheltered behind the piles of books on the table,sat with one hand grasping his revolver and the other touching the pushof the electric bell. He felt the whole strength of his position with akeen zest. He held the list. He held Lupin:

  "If he moves," he thought, "I cover him with my revolver and I ring. Ifhe attacks me, I shoot."

  And the situation appeared to him so pleasant that he prolonged it, withthe exquisite relish of an epicure.

  In the end, M. Nicole took up the threads:

  "As we are agreed, monsieur le secretaire-general, I think there isnothing left for
you to do but to hurry. Is the execution to take placeto-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 thereason?"

  "I have changed my mind."

  "Is that all?"

  "That's all. I have come to the conclusion that, as things stand, afterthis last scandal, it is impossible to try to do anything in Gilbert'sfavour. Besides, an attempt in this direction at the Elysee, underpresent conditions, would constitute a regular case of blackmail, towhich I absolutely decline to lend myself."

  "You are free to do as you please, monsieur. Your scruples do youhonour, though they come rather late, for they did not trouble youyesterday. But, in that case, monsieur le secretaire-general, asthe compact between us is destroyed, give me back the list of theTwenty-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 hisaccomplice is dead, it will be much easier to grant him a pardon whicheverybody will look upon as fair and humane. Give me back the list."

  "Upon my word, monsieur, you have a short memory and none too nice aconscience. 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 atthe curious turn which the conversation was taking; and Prasville felta vague misgiving at observing that fit of merriment. He grasped thebutt-end of his revolver and wondered whether he ought not to ring forhelp.

  M. Nicole drew his chair close to the desk, put his two elbows on thetable, looked Prasville straight in the face and jeered:

  "So, M. Prasville, you know who I am and you have the assurance to playthis game with me?"

  "I have that assurance," said Prasville, accepting the sneer withoutflinching.

  "Which proves that you consider me, Arsene Lupin--we may as well use thename: yes, Arsene Lupin--which proves that you consider me fool enough,dolt enough to deliver myself like this, bound hand and foot into yourhands."

  "Upon my word," said Prasville, airily, patting the waistcoat-pocket inwhich he had secreted the crystal ball, "I don't quite see what you cando, M. Nicole, now that Daubrecq's eye is here, with the list of theTwenty-seven inside it."

  "What I can do?" echoed M. Nicole, ironically.

  "Yes! The talisman no longer protects you; and you are now no betteroff than any other man who might venture into the very heart of thepolice-office, among some dozens of stalwart fellows posted behind eachof those doors and some hundreds of others who will hasten up at thefirst signal."

  M. Nicole shrugged his shoulders and gave Prasville a look of greatcommiseration:

  "Shall I tell you what is happening, monsieur le secretaire-general?Well, you too are having your head turned by all this business. Now thatyou possess the list, your state of mind has suddenly sunk to that ofa Daubrecq or a d'Albufex. There is no longer even a question, inyour thoughts, of taking it to your superiors, so that this fermentof disgrace and discord may be ended. No, no; a sodden temptation hasseized upon you and intoxicated you; and, losing your head, you say toyourself, 'It is here, in my pocket. With its aid, I am omnipotent. Itmeans wealth, absolute, unbounded power. Why not benefit by it? Whynot let Gilbert and Clarisse Mergy die? Why not lock up that idiot ofa Lupin? Why not seize this unparalleled piece of fortune by theforelock?'"

  He bent toward Prasville and, very softly, in a friendly andconfidential 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 firstto consult the twenty-seven names on the list of which you have justrobbed me and reflect, for a moment, on the name of the third person onit."

  "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 hisself-confidence.

  "Then? Ask yourself if an inquiry, however summary, would not end bydiscovering, behind that Stanislas Vorenglade, the name of one whoshared certain little profits with him."

  "And whose name is?"

  "Louis Prasville."

  M. Nicole banged the table with his fist.

  "Enough of this humbug, monsieur! For twenty minutes, you and I havebeen 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 amfrightened 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 greatdeliberation, said:

  "If, within an hour from now, you are not back from the Elysee, bringingwith 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 ofthis building safe and sound and absolutely free, this eveningfour Paris newspapers will receive four letters selected from thecorrespondence exchanged between Stanislas Vorenglade and yourself, thecorrespondence which Stanislas Vorenglade sold me this morning. Here'syour hat, here's your overcoat, here's your stick. Be off. I will waitfor you."

  Then happened this extraordinary and yet easily understood thing, thatPrasville did not raise the slightest protest nor make the least showof fight. He received the sudden, far-reaching, utter conviction ofwhat the personality known as Arsene Lupin meant, in all its breadth andfulness. He did not so much as think of carping, of pretending--ashe had until then believed--that the letters had been destroyed byVorenglade the deputy or, at any rate, that Vorenglade would not dareto hand them over, because, in so doing, Vorenglade was also workinghis own destruction. No, Prasville did not speak a word. He felthimself caught in a vise of which no human strength could force the jawsasunder. 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 knowexactly where he stood, he added, "The letters, of course, will berestored 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 myfriends and I have brought about Gilbert's escape... thanks to thevery slack watch which will be kept upon him, in accordance with yourorders."

  "Is that all?"

  "No, there are two further conditions: first, the immediate payment of acheque for forty thousand francs."

  "Forty thousand francs?"

  "The sum for which Stanislas Vorenglade sold me the letters. It is onlyfair..."

  "And next?"

  "Secondly, your resignation, within six months, of your presentposition."

  "My resignation? But why?"

  M. Nicole made a very dignified gesture:

  "Because it is against public morals that one of the highest positionsin the police-service should be occupied by a man whose hands are notabsolutely clean. Make them send you to parliament or appoint you aminister, a councillor of State, an ambassador, in short, any postwhich your success in the Daubrecq case entitles you to demand. But notsecretary-general of police; anything but that! The very thought of itdisgusts me."

  Prasvil
le reflected for a moment. He would have rejoiced in the suddendestruction of his adversary and he racked his brain for the means toeffect it. But he was helpless.

  He went to the door and called:

  "M. Lartigue." And, sinking his voice, but not very low, for he wishedM. Nicole to hear, "M. Lartigue, dismiss your men. It's a mistake. Andlet no one come into my office while I am gone. This gentleman will waitfor me here."

  He came back, took the hat, stick and overcoat which M. Nicole handedhim and went out.

  "Well done, sir," said Lupin, between his teeth, when the door wasclosed. "You have behaved like a sportsman and a gentleman... So did I,for that matter... perhaps with too obvious a touch of contempt... anda little too bluntly. But, tush, this sort of business has to be carriedthrough with a high hand! The enemy's got to be staggered! Besides, whenone's own conscience is clear, one can't take up too bullying a tonewith that sort of individual. Lift your head, Lupin. You have been thechampion of outraged morality. Be proud of your work. And now take achair, stretch out your legs and have a rest. You've deserved it."

  When Prasville returned, he found Lupin sound asleep and had to tap himon the shoulder to wake him.

  "Is it done?" asked Lupin.

  "It's done. The pardon will be signed presently. Here is the writtenpromise."

  "The forty thousand francs?"

  "Here's your cheque."

  "Good. It but remains for me to thank you, monsieur."

  "So the correspondence..."

  "The Stanislas Vorenglade correspondence will be handed to you on theconditions stated. However, I am glad to be able to give you, here andnow, as a sign of my gratitude, the four letters which I meant to sendto the papers this evening."

  "Oh, so you had them on you?" said Prasville.

  "I felt so certain, monsieur le secretaire-general, that we should endby coming to an understanding."

  He took from his hat a fat envelope, sealed with five red seals, whichwas pinned inside the lining, and handed it to Prasville, who thrust itinto his pocket. Then he said:

  "Monsieur le secretaire-general, I don't know when I shall have thepleasure of seeing you again. If you have the least communicationto make to me, one line in the agony column of the Journal will besufficient. 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 nightmareduring which he had performed incoherent actions over which hisconscious mind had no control. He was almost thinking of ringing andcausing a stir in the passages; but, just then, there was a tap at thedoor 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 askingto see you... on a matter of the highest importance."

  "Daubrecq!" exclaimed Prasville, in bewilderment. "Daubrecq here! Showhim in."

  Daubrecq had not waited for the order. He ran up to Prasville, out ofbreath, with his clothes in disorder, a bandage over his left eye, notie, no collar, looking like an escaped lunatic; and the door was notclosed 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 hatred of me, I expect?And now you're going to take your revenge?"

  "With a certain satisfaction, Daubrecq. Remember my little friend, theopera-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'redone 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 bepresent at the break-up. That's my revenge."

  "And you believe that!" yelled Daubrecq, furiously. "You believe thatthey will wring my neck like a chicken's and that I shall not know howto defend myself and that I have no claws left and no teeth to bitewith! Well, my boy, if I do come to grief, there's always one who willfall with me and that is Master Prasville, the partner of StanislasVorenglade, who is going to hand me every proof in existence againsthim, so that I may get him sent to gaol without delay. Aha, I've got youfixed, 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'relaughing, 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 offorty 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 thousandfrancs! To M. Nicole, I suppose, who sold you the list of theTwenty-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 ass, is that I havecome straight from Stanislas Vorenglade's and that Stanislas Vorengladeleft 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 Prasvilleabsolutely dumbfounded.

  So Arsene Lupin possessed no proof at all; and, when he was threateningand commanding and treating Prasville with that airy insolence, it wasall a farce, all bluff!

  "No, no, it's impossible," thought the secretary-general. "I have thesealed envelope.... It's here.... I have only to open it."

  He dared not open it. He handled it, weighed it, examined it... Anddoubt made its way so swiftly into his mind that he was not in the leastsurprised, when he did open it, to find that it contained four blanksheets of note-paper.

  "Well, well," he said, "I am no match for those rascals. But all is notover yet."

  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 themfrom Stanislas Vorenglade. But, as, on the other hand, Vorenglade wasnot in Paris, Prasville's business was simply to forestall Lupin's stepswith regard to Vorenglade and obtain the restitution of those dangerousletters from Vorenglade at all costs. The first to arrive would be thevictor.

  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 sixo'clock that evening.

  It was two o'clock in the afternoon. Prasville therefore had plenty oftime 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 dozendetectives 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 wouldarrest whosoever could be suspected of being either Lupin or one ofLupin's emissaries.

  Moreover, Prasville made a close inspection 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 exasperated thesecretary-general to such a pitch that he was on the verge of having himarrested. But he reflected that he had no excuse, no right, no warrantfor the arrest.

  Besides, Daubrecq's presence proved, with still greater force, thateverything now depended on Stanislas Vorenglade. Vorenglade possessedthe 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 apo
sition to fight. There could be no doubt, therefore, about the result:Prasville would reenter into possession of his letters and, throughthis very fact, would escape Daubrecq's threats and Lupin's threats andrecover all his freedom of action against them.

  The train arrived.

  In accordance with orders, the stationmaster had issued instructionsthat no one was to be admitted to the platform. Prasville, therefore,walked on alone, in front of a number of his men, with Chief-inspectorBlanchon at their head.

  The train drew up.

  Prasville almost at once saw Stanislas Vorenglade at the window of afirst-class compartment, in the middle of the train.

  The ex-deputy alighted and then held out his hand to assist an oldgentleman 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, recognizedDaubrecq, and smiled:

  "Oho, it seems that my return was awaited with some impatience! What'sit 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 histravelling-companion, "to this gentleman, who thought that the businesswas 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 hisstick, 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 theold 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 thetrain through the corridor. He was in a great hurry."

  Prasville understood: Lupin had taken the precaution to bring anaccomplice, and the accomplice was carrying off the letters. The gamewas lost, to a certainty. Lupin had a firm grip on his victim. There wasnothing to do but submit and accept the conqueror's conditions.

  "Very well, sir," said Prasville. "We shall see each other when the timecomes. Good-bye for the present, Daubrecq: you shall hear from me." And,drawing Vorenglade aside, "As for you, Vorenglade, you are playing adangerous 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 rootedto the ground.

  The old gentleman went up to him and whispered:

  "I say, Daubrecq, wake up, old chap... It's the chloroform, I expect..."

  Daubrecq clenched his fists and gave a muttered growl.

  "Ah, I see you know me!" said the old gentleman. "Then you will rememberour interview, some months ago, when I came to see you in the SquareLamartine and asked you to intercede in Gilbert's favour. I said toyou that day, 'Lay down your arms, save Gilbert and I will leave you inpeace. If not, I shall take the list of the Twenty-seven from you; andthen you're done for.' Well, I have a strong suspicion that done for iswhat you are. That comes of not making terms with kind M. Lupin. Sooneror later, you're bound to lose your boots by it. However, let it be alesson to you.

  "By the way, here's your pocketbook which I forgot to give you. Excuseme if you find it lightened of its contents. There were not onlya decent number of bank-notes in it, but also the receipt from thewarehouse where you stored the Enghien things which you took back fromme. I thought I might as well save you the trouble of taking them outyourself. It ought to be done by now. No, don't thank me: it's not worthmentioning. Good-bye, Daubrecq. And, if you should want a louis ortwo, 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 commuted to one ofpenal servitude for life, made his escape from the Ile de Re, on the daybefore that on which he was to have been transported to New Caledonia.

  It was a strange escape. Its least details remained difficult tounderstand; and, like the two shots on the Boulevard Arago, it greatlyenhanced Arsene Lupin's prestige.

  "Taken all round," said Lupin to me, one day, after telling me thedifferent episodes of the story, "taken all around, no enterprisehas ever given me more trouble or cost me greater exertions than thatconfounded adventure which, if you don't mind, we will call, The CrystalStopper; or, Never Say Die. In twelve hours, between six o'clock in themorning and six o'clock in the evening, I made up for six months of badluck, blunders, gropings in the dark and reverses. I certainly countthose 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, andthey have a son whom he insisted on calling Arsene. I often receive abright, 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 seemridiculous in your eyes. But you know that I have always been assentimental as a schoolboy and as silly as a goose. Well, on theevening when I went back to Clarisse Mergy and told her the news of theday--part of which, for that matter, she already knew--I felt twothings very thoroughly. One was that I entertained for her a much deeperfeeling than I thought; the other that she, on the contrary, entertainedfor me a feeling which was not without contempt, not without a ranklinggrudge nor even a certain aversion."

  "Nonsense! Why?"

  "Why? Because Clarisse Mergy is an exceedingly honest woman and becauseI am... just Arsene Lupin."

  "Oh!"

  "Dear me, yes, an attractive bandit, a romantic and chivalrouscracksman, anything you please. For all that, in the eyes of a reallyhonest woman, with an upright nature and a well-balanced mind, I am onlythe merest riff-raff."

  I saw that the wound was sharper than he was willing to admit, and Isaid:

  "So you really loved her?"

  "I even believe," he said, in a jesting tone, "that I asked her to marryme. After all, I had saved her son, had I not?... So... I thought. Whata rebuff!... It produced a coolness between us... Since then..."

  "You have forgotten her?"

  "Oh, certainly! But it required the consolations of one Italian, twoAmericans, three Russians, a German grand-duchess and a Chinawoman to doit!"

  "And, after that...?"

  "After that, so as to place an insuperable barrier between myself andher, I got married."

  "Nonsense! You got married, you, Arsene Lupin?"

  "Married, wedded, spliced, in the most lawful fashion. One of thegreatest names in France. An only daughter. A colossal fortune... What!You don't know the story? Well, it's worth hearing."

  And, straightway, Lupin, who was in a confidential vein, began to tellme the story of his marriage to Angelique de Sarzeau-Vendome, Princessede Bourbon-Conde, to-day Sister Marie-Auguste, a humble nun in theVisitation Convent... [*]

  * See The Confessions of A
rsene Lupin By Maurice Leblanc Translated by Alexander Teixeira de Mattos

  But, after the first few words, he stopped, as though his narrative hadsuddenly ceased to interest him, and he remained pensive.

  "What's the matter, Lupin?"

  "The matter? Nothing."

  "Yes, yes... There... now you're smiling... Is it Daubrecq's secretreceptacle, 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 delightful memory even. It was at night, off the Ilede Re, on the fishing-smack in which Clarisse and I were taking Gilbertaway.... We were alone, the two of us, in the stern of the boat... AndI remember ... I talked... I spoke words and more words... I said allthat I had on my heart... And then... then came silence, a perturbingand disarming silence."

  "Well?"

  "Well, I swear to you that the woman whom I took in my arms that nightand kissed on the lips--oh, not for long: a few seconds only, butno matter!--I swear before heaven that she was something more than agrateful mother, something more than a friend yielding to a momentof susceptibility, that she was a woman also, a woman quivering withemotion ..." And he continued, with a bitter laugh, "Who ran away nextday, never to see me again."

  He was silent once more. Then he whispered:

  "Clarisse... Clarisse... On the day when I am tired and disappointed andweary of life, I will come to you down there, in your little Arab house... in that little white house, Clarisse, where you are waiting forme..."