Arsène Lupin, gentleman-cambrioleur. English

by Maurice Leblanc

  II. Arsene Lupin in Prison

  There is no tourist worthy of the name who does not know the banksof the Seine, and has not noticed, in passing, the little feudalcastle of the Malaquis, built upon a rock in the centre of theriver. An arched bridge connects it with the shore. All aroundit, the calm waters of the great river play peacefully amongst thereeds, and the wagtails flutter over the moist crests of thestones.

  The history of the Malaquis castle is stormy like its name, harshlike its outlines. It has passed through a long series ofcombats, sieges, assaults, rapines and massacres. A recital ofthe crimes that have been committed there would cause the stoutestheart to tremble. There are many mysterious legends connectedwith the castle, and they tell us of a famous subterranean tunnelthat formerly led to the abbey of Jumieges and to the manor ofAgnes Sorel, mistress of Charles VII.

  In that ancient habitation of heroes and brigands, the BaronNathan Cahorn now lived; or Baron Satan as he was formerly calledon the Bourse, where he had acquired a fortune with incrediblerapidity. The lords of Malaquis, absolutely ruined, had beenobliged to sell the ancient castle at a great sacrifice. Itcontained an admirable collection of furniture, pictures, woodcarvings, and faience. The Baron lived there alone, attended bythree old servants. No one ever enters the place. No one hadever beheld the three Rubens that he possessed, his two Watteau,his Jean Goujon pulpit, and the many other treasures that he hadacquired by a vast expenditure of money at public sales.

  Baron Satan lived in constant fear, not for himself, but for thetreasures that he had accumulated with such an earnest devotionand with so much perspicacity that the shrewdest merchant couldnot say that the Baron had ever erred in his taste or judgment.He loved them--his bibelots. He loved them intensely, like amiser; jealously, like a lover. Every day, at sunset, the irongates at either end of the bridge and at the entrance to the courtof honor are closed and barred. At the least touch on thesegates, electric bells will ring throughout the castle.

  One Thursday in September, a letter-carrier presented himself atthe gate at the head of the bridge, and, as usual, it was theBaron himself who partially opened the heavy portal. Hescrutinized the man as minutely as if he were a stranger, althoughthe honest face and twinkling eyes of the postman had beenfamiliar to the Baron for many years. The man laughed, as hesaid:

  "It is only I, Monsieur le Baron. It is not another man wearingmy cap and blouse."

  "One can never tell," muttered the Baron.

  The man handed him a number of newspapers, and then said:

  "And now, Monsieur le Baron, here is something new."

  "Something new?"

  "Yes, a letter. A registered letter."

  Living as a recluse, without friends or business relations, thebaron never received any letters, and the one now presented to himimmediately aroused within him a feeling of suspicion anddistrust. It was like an evil omen. Who was this mysteriouscorrespondent that dared to disturb the tranquility of hisretreat?

  "You must sign for it, Monsieur le Baron."

  He signed; then took the letter, waited until the postman haddisappeared beyond the bend in the road, and, after walkingnervously to and fro for a few minutes, he leaned against theparapet of the bridge and opened the envelope. It contained asheet of paper, bearing this heading: Prison de la Sante, Paris.He looked at the signature: Arsene Lupin. Then he read:

  "Monsieur le Baron:

  "There is, in the gallery in your castle, a picture of Philippe de Champaigne, of exquisite finish, which pleases me beyond measure. Your Rubens are also to my taste, as well as your smallest Watteau. In the salon to the right, I have noticed the Louis XIII cadence-table, the tapestries of Beauvais, the Empire gueridon signed `Jacob,' and the Renaissance chest. In the salon to the left, all the cabinet full of jewels and miniatures.

  "For the present, I will content myself with those articles that can be conveniently removed. I will therefore ask you to pack them carefully and ship them to me, charges prepaid, to the station at Batignolles, within eight days, otherwise I shall be obliged to remove them myself during the night of 27 September; but, under those circumstances, I shall not content myself with the articles above mentioned.

  "Accept my apologies for any inconvenience I may cause you, and believe me to be your humble servant, "Arsene Lupin."

  "P. S.--Please do not send the largest Watteau. Although you paid thirty thousand francs for it, it is only a copy, the original having been burned, under the Directoire by Barras, during a night of debauchery. Consult the memoirs of Garat.

  "I do not care for the Louis XV chatelaine, as I doubt its authenticity."

  That letter completely upset the baron. Had it borne any othersignature, he would have been greatly alarmed--but signed by ArseneLupin!

  As an habitual reader of the newspapers, he was versed in thehistory of recent crimes, and was therefore well acquainted withthe exploits of the mysterious burglar. Of course, he knew thatLupin had been arrested in America by his enemy Ganimard and wasat present incarcerated in the Prison de la Sante. But he knewalso that any miracle might be expected from Arsene Lupin.Moreover, that exact knowledge of the castle, the location of thepictures and furniture, gave the affair an alarming aspect. Howcould he have acquired that information concerning things that noone had ever seen?

  The baron raised his eyes and contemplated the stern outlines ofthe castle, its steep rocky pedestal, the depth of the surroundingwater, and shrugged his shoulders. Certainly, there was nodanger. No one in the world could force an entrance to thesanctuary that contained his priceless treasures.

  No one, perhaps, but Arsene Lupin! For him, gates, walls anddrawbridges did not exist. What use were the most formidableobstacles or the most careful precautions, if Arsene Lupin haddecided to effect an entrance?

  That evening, he wrote to the Procurer of the Republique at Rouen.He enclosed the threatening letter and solicited aid andprotection.

  The reply came at once to the effect that Arsene Lupin was incustody in the Prison de la Sante, under close surveillance, withno opportunity to write such a letter, which was, no doubt, thework of some imposter. But, as an act of precaution, the Procurerhad submitted the letter to an expert in handwriting, who declaredthat, in spite of certain resemblances, the writing was not thatof the prisoner.

  But the words "in spite of certain resemblances" caught theattention of the baron; in them, he read the possibility of adoubt which appeared to him quite sufficient to warrant theintervention of the law. His fears increased. He read Lupin'sletter over and over again. "I shall be obliged to remove themmyself." And then there was the fixed date: the night of 27September.

  To confide in his servants was a proceeding repugnant to hisnature; but now, for the first time in many years, he experiencedthe necessity of seeking counsel with some one. Abandoned by thelegal official of his own district, and feeling unable to defendhimself with his own resources, he was on the point of going toParis to engage the services of a detective.

  Two days passed; on the third day, he was filled with hope and joyas he read the following item in the `Reveil de Caudebec', anewspaper published in a neighboring town:

  "We have the pleasure of entertaining in our city, at the presenttime, the veteran detective Mon. Ganimard who acquired a world-widereputation by his clever capture of Arsene Lupin. He hascome here for rest and recreation, and, being an enthusiasticfisherman, he threatens to capture all the fish in our river."

  Ganimard! Ah, here is the assistance desired by Baron Cahorn!Who could baffle the schemes of Arsene Lupin better than Ganimard,the patient and astute detective? He was the man for the place.

  The baron did not hesitate. The town of Caudebec was only sixkilometers from the castle, a short distance to a man whose stepwas accelerated by the hope of safety.

  After several fruitless attempts to ascertain the detective'saddress, the baron visited the office of
the `Reveil,' situated onthe quai. There he found the writer of the article who,approaching the window, exclaimed:

  "Ganimard? Why, you are sure to see him somewhere on the quaiwith his fishing-pole. I met him there and chanced to read hisname engraved on his rod. Ah, there he is now, under the trees."

  "That little man, wearing a straw hat?"

  "Exactly. He is a gruff fellow, with little to say."

  Five minutes later, the baron approached the celebrated Ganimard,introduced himself, and sought to commence a conversation, butthat was a failure. Then he broached the real object of hisinterview, and briefly stated his case. The other listened,motionless, with his attention riveted on his fishing-rod. Whenthe baron had finished his story, the fisherman turned, with anair of profound pity, and said:

  "Monsieur, it is not customary for thieves to warn people they areabout to rob. Arsene Lupin, especially, would not commit such afolly."

  "But---"

  "Monsieur, if I had the least doubt, believe me, the pleasure ofagain capturing Arsene Lupin would place me at your disposal.But, unfortunately, that young man is already under lock and key."

  "He may have escaped."

  "No one ever escaped from the Sante."

  "But, he---"

  "He, no more than any other."

  "Yet---"

  "Well, if he escapes, so much the better. I will catch him again.Meanwhile, you go home and sleep soundly. That will do for thepresent. You frighten the fish."

  The conversation was ended. The baron returned to the castle,reassured to some extent by Ganimard's indifference. He examinedthe bolts, watched the servants, and, during the next forty-eighthours, he became almost persuaded that his fears were groundless.Certainly, as Ganimard had said, thieves do not warn people theyare about to rob.

  The fateful day was close at hand. It was now the twenty-sixth ofSeptember and nothing had happened. But at three o'clock the bellrang. A boy brought this telegram:

  "No goods at Batignolles station. Prepare everything for tomorrownight. Arsene."

  This telegram threw the baron into such a state of excitement thathe even considered the advisability of yielding to Lupin'sdemands.

  However, he hastened to Caudebec. Ganimard was fishing at thesame place, seated on a campstool. Without a word, he handed himthe telegram.

  "Well, what of it?" said the detective.

  "What of it? But it is tomorrow."

  "What is tomorrow?"

  "The robbery! The pillage of my collections!"

  Ganimard laid down his fishing-rod, turned to the baron, andexclaimed, in a tone of impatience:

  "Ah! Do you think I am going to bother myself about such a sillystory as that!"

  "How much do you ask to pass tomorrow night in the castle?"

  "Not a sou. Now, leave me alone."

  "Name your own price. I am rich and can pay it."

  This offer disconcerted Ganimard, who replied, calmly:

  "I am here on a vacation. I have no right to undertake suchwork."

  "No one will know. I promise to keep it secret."

  "Oh! nothing will happen."

  "Come! three thousand francs. Will that be enough?"

  The detective, after a moment's reflection, said:

  "Very well. But I must warn you that you are throwing your moneyout of the window."

  "I do not care."

  "In that case...but, after all, what do we know about this devilLupin! He may have quite a numerous band of robbers with him.Are you sure of your servants?"

  "My faith---"

  "Better not count on them. I will telegraph for two of my men tohelp me. And now, go! It is better for us not to be seentogether. Tomorrow evening about nine o'clock."

  * * * * *

  The following day--the date fixed by Arsene Lupin--Baron Cahornarranged all his panoply of war, furbished his weapons, and, likea sentinel, paced to and fro in front of the castle. He sawnothing, heard nothing. At half-past eight o'clock in theevening, he dismissed his servants. They occupied rooms in a wingof the building, in a retired spot, well removed from the mainportion of the castle. Shortly thereafter, the baron heard thesound of approaching footsteps. It was Ganimard and his twoassistants--great, powerful fellows with immense hands, and neckslike bulls. After asking a few questions relating to the locationof the various entrances and rooms, Ganimard carefully closed andbarricaded all the doors and windows through which one could gainaccess to the threatened rooms. He inspected the walls, raisedthe tapestries, and finally installed his assistants in thecentral gallery which was located between the two salons.

  "No nonsense! We are not here to sleep. At the slightest sound,open the windows of the court and call me. Pay attention also tothe water-side. Ten metres of perpendicular rock is no obstacleto those devils."

  Ganimard locked his assistants in the gallery, carried away thekeys, and said to the baron:

  "And now, to our post."

  He had chosen for himself a small room located in the thick outerwall, between the two principal doors, and which, in former years,had been the watchman's quarters. A peep-hole opened upon thebridge; another on the court. In one corner, there was an openingto a tunnel.

  "I believe you told me, Monsieur le Baron, that this tunnel is theonly subterranean entrance to the castle and that it has beenclosed up for time immemorial?"

  "Yes."

  "Then, unless there is some other entrance, known only to ArseneLupin, we are quite safe."

  He placed three chairs together, stretched himself upon them,lighted his pipe and sighed:

  "Really, Monsieur le Baron, I feel ashamed to accept your moneyfor such a sinecure as this. I will tell the story to my friendLupin. He will enjoy it immensely."

  The baron did not laugh. He was anxiously listening, but heardnothing save the beating of his own heart. From time to time, heleaned over the tunnel and cast a fearful eye into its depths. Heheard the clock strike eleven, twelve, one.

  Suddenly, he seized Ganimard's arm. The latter leaped up,awakened from his sleep.

  "Do you hear?" asked the baron, in a whisper.

  "Yes."

  "What is it?"

  "I was snoring, I suppose."

  "No, no, listen."

  "Ah! yes, it is the horn of an automobile."

  "Well?"

  "Well! it is very improbable that Lupin would use an automobilelike a battering-ram to demolish your castle. Come, Monsieur leBaron, return to your post. I am going to sleep. Good-night."

  That was the only alarm. Ganimard resumed his interruptedslumbers, and the baron heard nothing except the regular snoringof his companion. At break of day, they left the room. Thecastle was enveloped in a profound calm; it was a peaceful dawn onthe bosom of a tranquil river. They mounted the stairs, Cahornradiant with joy, Ganimard calm as usual. They heard no sound;they saw nothing to arouse suspicion.

  "What did I tell you, Monsieur le Baron? Really, I should nothave accepted your offer. I am ashamed."

  He unlocked the door and entered the gallery. Upon two chairs,with drooping heads and pendent arms, the detective's twoassistants were asleep.

  "Tonnerre de nom d'un chien!" exclaimed Ganimard. At the samemoment, the baron cried out:

  "The pictures! The credence!"

  He stammered, choked, with arms outstretched toward the emptyplaces, toward the denuded walls where naught remained but theuseless nails and cords. The Watteau, disappeared! The Rubens,carried away! The tapestries taken down! The cabinets, despoiledof their jewels!

  "And my Louis XVI candelabra! And the Regent chandelier!...Andmy twelfth-century Virgin!"

  He ran from one spot to another in wildest despair. He recalledthe purchase price of each article, added up the figures, countedhis losses, pell-mell, in confused words and unfinished phrases.He stamped with rage; he groaned with grief. He acted like aruined man whose only hope is suicide.

  If anything could have cons
oled him, it would have been thestupefaction displayed by Ganimard. The famous detective did notmove. He appeared to be petrified; he examined the room in alistless manner. The windows?....closed. The locks on thedoors?....intact. Not a break in the ceiling; not a hole in thefloor. Everything was in perfect order. The theft had beencarried out methodically, according to a logical and inexorableplan.

  "Arsene Lupin....Arsene Lupin," he muttered.

  Suddenly, as if moved by anger, he rushed upon his two assistantsand shook them violently. They did not awaken.

  "The devil!" he cried. "Can it be possible?"

  He leaned over them and, in turn, examined them closely. Theywere asleep; but their response was unnatural.

  "They have been drugged," he said to the baron.

  "By whom?"

  "By him, of course, or his men under his discretion. That workbears his stamp."

  "In that case, I am lost--nothing can be done."

  "Nothing," assented Ganimard.

  "It is dreadful; it is monstrous."

  "Lodge a complaint."

  "What good will that do?"

  "Oh; it is well to try it. The law has some resources."

  "The law! Bah! it is useless. You represent the law, and, atthis moment, when you should be looking for a clue and trying todiscover something, you do not even stir."

  "Discover something with Arsene Lupin! Why, my dear monsieur,Arsene Lupin never leaves any clue behind him. He leaves nothingto chance. Sometimes I think he put himself in my way and simplyallowed me to arrest him in America."

  "Then, I must renounce my pictures! He has taken the gems of mycollection. I would give a fortune to recover them. If there isno other way, let him name his own price."

  Ganimard regarded the baron attentively, as he said:

  "Now, that is sensible. Will you stick to it?"

  "Yes, yes. But why?"

  "An idea that I have."

  "What is it?"

  "We will discuss it later--if the official examination does notsucceed. But, not one word about me, if you wish my assistance."

  He added, between his teeth:

  "It is true I have nothing to boast of in this affair."

  The assistants were gradually regaining consciousness with thebewildered air of people who come out of an hypnotic sleep. Theyopened their eyes and looked about them in astonishment. Ganimardquestioned them; they remembered nothing.

  "But you must have seen some one?"

  "No."

  "Can't you remember?"

  "No, no."

  "Did you drink anything?"

  They considered a moment, and then one of them replied:

  "Yes, I drank a little water."

  "Out of that carafe?"

  "Yes."

  "So did I," declared the other.

  Ganimard smelled and tasted it. It had no particular taste and noodor.

  "Come," he said, "we are wasting our time here. One can't decidean Arsene Lupin problem in five minutes. But, morbleau! I swearI will catch him again."

  The same day, a charge of burglary was duly performed by BaronCahorn against Arsene Lupin, a prisoner in the Prison de la Sante.

  * * * * *

  The baron afterwards regretted making the charge against Lupinwhen he saw his castle delivered over to the gendarmes, theprocureur, the judge d'instruction, the newspaper reporters andphotographers, and a throng of idle curiosity-seekers.

  The affair soon became a topic of general discussion, and the nameof Arsene Lupin excited the public imagination to such an extentthat the newspapers filled their columns with the most fantasticstories of his exploits which found ready credence amongst theirreaders.

  But the letter of Arsene Lupin that was published in the `Echo deFrance' (no once ever knew how the newspaper obtained it), thatletter in which Baron Cahorn was impudently warned of the comingtheft, caused considerable excitement. The most fabulous theorieswere advanced. Some recalled the existence of the famoussubterranean tunnels, and that was the line of research pursued bythe officers of the law, who searched the house from top tobottom, questioned every stone, studied the wainscoting and thechimneys, the window-frames and the girders in the ceilings. Bythe light of torches, they examined the immense cellars where thelords of Malaquis were wont to store their munitions andprovisions. They sounded the rocky foundation to its very centre.But it was all in vain. They discovered no trace of a subterraneantunnel. No secret passage existed.

  But the eager public declared that the pictures and furniturecould not vanish like so many ghosts. They are substantial,material things and require doors and windows for their exits andtheir entrances, and so do the people that remove them. Who werethose people? How did they gain access to the castle? And howdid they leave it?

  The police officers of Rouen, convinced of their own impotence,solicited the assistance of the Parisian detective force. Mon.Dudouis, chief of the Surete, sent the best sleuths of the ironbrigade. He himself spent forty-eight hours at the castle, butmet with no success. Then he sent for Ganimard, whose pastservices had proved so useful when all else failed.

  Ganimard listened, in silence, to the instructions of hissuperior; then, shaking his head, he said:

  "In my opinion, it is useless to ransack the castle. The solutionof the problem lies elsewhere."

  "Where, then?"

  "With Arsene Lupin."

  "With Arsene Lupin! To support that theory, we must admit hisintervention."

  "I do admit it. In fact, I consider it quite certain."

  "Come, Ganimard, that is absurd. Arsene Lupin is in prison."

  "I grant you that Arsene Lupin is in prison, closely guarded; buthe must have fetters on his feet, manacles on his wrists, and gagin his mouth before I change my opinion."

  "Why so obstinate, Ganimard?"

  "Because Arsene Lupin is the only man in France of sufficientcalibre to invent and carry out a scheme of that magnitude."

  "Mere words, Ganimard."

  "But true ones. Look! What are they doing? Searching forsubterranean passages, stones swinging on pivots, and other nonsenseof that kind. But Lupin doesn't employ such old-fashioned methods.He is a modern cracksman, right up to date."

  "And how would you proceed?"

  "I should ask your permission to spend an hour with him."

  "In his cell?"

  "Yes. During the return trip from America we became veryfriendly, and I venture to say that if he can give me anyinformation without compromising himself he will not hesitate tosave me from incurring useless trouble."

  It was shortly after noon when Ganimard entered the cell of ArseneLupin. The latter, who was lying on his bed, raised his head anduttered a cry of apparent joy.

  "Ah! This is a real surprise. My dear Ganimard, here!"

  "Ganimard himself."

  "In my chosen retreat, I have felt a desire for many things, butmy fondest wish was to receive you here."

  "Very kind of you, I am sure."

  "Not at all. You know I hold you in the highest regard."

  "I am proud of it."

  "I have always said: Ganimard is our best detective. He isalmost,--you see how candid I am!--he is almost as clever asSherlock Holmes. But I am sorry that I cannot offer you anythingbetter than this hard stool. And no refreshments! Not even aglass of beer! Of course, you will excuse me, as I am here onlytemporarily."

  Ganimard smiled, and accepted the proffered seat. Then theprisoner continued:

  "Mon Dieu, how pleased I am to see the face of an honest man. Iam so tired of those devils of spies who come here ten times a dayto ransack my pockets and my cell to satisfy themselves that I amnot preparing to escape. The government is very solicitous on myaccount."

  "It is quite right."

  "Why so? I should be quite contented if they would allow me tolive in my own quiet way."

  "On other people's money."

  "Quite so. That would be so simple. But here,
I am joking, andyou are, no doubt, in a hurry. So let us come to business,Ganimard. To what do I owe the honor of this visit?

  "The Cahorn affair," declared Ganimard, frankly.

  "Ah! Wait, one moment. You see I have had so many affairs!First, let me fix in my mind the circumstances of this particularcase....Ah! yes, now I have it. The Cahorn affair, Malaquiscastle, Seine-Inferieure....Two Rubens, a Watteau, and a fewtrifling articles."

  "Trifling!"

  "Oh! ma foi, all that is of slight importance. But it suffices toknow that the affair interests you. How can I serve you,Ganimard?"

  "Must I explain to you what steps the authorities have taken inthe matter?"

  "Not at all. I have read the newspapers and I will frankly statethat you have made very little progress."

  "And that is the reason I have come to see you."

  "I am entirely at your service."

  "In the first place, the Cahorn affair was managed by you?"

  "From A to Z."

  "The letter of warning? the telegram?"

  "All mine. I ought to have the receipts somewhere."

  Arsene opened the drawer of a small table of plain white woodwhich, with the bed and stool, constituted all the furniture inhis cell, and took therefrom two scraps of paper which he handedto Ganimard.

  "Ah!" exclaimed the detective, in surprise, "I though you wereclosely guarded and searched, and I find that you read thenewspapers and collect postal receipts."

  "Bah! these people are so stupid! They open the lining of myvest, they examine the soles of my shoes, they sound the walls ofmy cell, but they never imagine that Arsene Lupin would be foolishenough to choose such a simple hiding place."

  Ganimard laughed, as he said:

  "What a droll fellow you are! Really, you bewilder me. But, comenow, tell me about the Cahorn affair."

  "Oh! oh! not quite so fast! You would rob me of all my secrets;expose all my little tricks. That is a very serious matter."

  "Was I wrong to count on your complaisance?"

  "No, Ganimard, and since you insist---"

  Arsene Lupin paced his cell two or three times, then, stoppingbefore Ganimard, he asked:

  "What do you think of my letter to the baron?"

  "I think you were amusing yourself by playing to the gallery."

  "Ah! playing to the gallery! Come, Ganimard, I thought you knewme better. Do I, Arsene Lupin, ever waste my time on suchpuerilities? Would I have written that letter if I could haverobbed the baron without writing to him? I want you to understandthat the letter was indispensable; it was the motor that set thewhole machine in motion. Now, let us discuss together a schemefor the robbery of the Malaquis castle. Are you willing?"

  "Yes, proceed."

  "Well, let us suppose a castle carefully closed and barricadedlike that of the Baron Cahorn. Am I to abandon my scheme andrenounce the treasures that I covet, upon the pretext that thecastle which holds them is inaccessible?"

  "Evidently not."

  "Should I make an assault upon the castle at the head of a band ofadventurers as they did in ancient times?"

  "That would be foolish."

  "Can I gain admittance by stealth or cunning?"

  "Impossible."

  "Then there is only one way open to me. I must have the owner ofthe castle invite me to it."

  "That is surely an original method."

  "And how easy! Let us suppose that one day the owner receives aletter warning him that a notorious burglar known as Arsene Lupinis plotting to rob him. What will he do?"

  "Send a letter to the Procureur."

  "Who will laugh at him, _because the said Arsene Lupin is actuallyin prison._ Then, in his anxiety and fear, the simple man willask the assistance of the first-comer, will he not?"

  "Very likely."

  "And if he happens to read in a country newspaper that acelebrated detective is spending his vacation in a neighboringtown---"

  "He will seek that detective."

  "Of course. But, on the other hand, let us presume that, havingforeseen that state of affairs, the said Arsene Lupin hasrequested one of his friends to visit Caudebec, make theacquaintance of the editor of the `Reveil,' a newspaper to whichthe baron is a subscriber, and let said editor understand thatsuch person is the celebrated detective--then, what will happen?"

  "The editor will announce in the `Reveil' the presence in Caudebecof said detective."

  "Exactly; and one of two things will happen: either the fish--Imean Cahorn--will not bite, and nothing will happen; or, what ismore likely, he will run and greedily swallow the bait. Thus,behold my Baron Cahorn imploring the assistance of one of myfriends against me."

  "Original, indeed!"

  "Of course, the pseudo-detective at first refuses to give anyassistance. On top of that comes the telegram from Arsene Lupin.The frightened baron rushes once more to my friend and offers hima definite sum of money for his services. My friend accepts andsummons two members of our band, who, during the night, whilstCahorn is under the watchful eye of his protector, removes certainarticles by way of the window and lowers them with ropes into anice little launch chartered for the occasion. Simple, isn't it?"

  "Marvelous! Marvelous!" exclaimed Ganimard. "The boldness of thescheme and the ingenuity of all its details are beyond criticism.But who is the detective whose name and fame served as a magnet toattract the baron and draw him into your net?"

  "There is only one name could do it--only one."

  "And that is?"

  "Arsene Lupin's personal enemy--the most illustrious Ganimard."

  "I?"

  "Yourself, Ganimard. And, really, it is very funny. If you gothere, and the baron decides to talk, you will find that it willbe your duty to arrest yourself, just as you arrested me inAmerica. Hein! the revenge is really amusing: I cause Ganimard toarrest Ganimard."

  Arsene Lupin laughed heartily. The detective, greatly vexed, bithis lips; to him the joke was quite devoid of humor. The arrivalof a prison guard gave Ganimard an opportunity to recover himself.The man brought Arsene Lupin's luncheon, furnished by aneighboring restaurant. After depositing the tray upon the table,the guard retired. Lupin broke his bread, ate a few morsels, andcontinued:

  "But, rest easy, my dear Ganimard, you will not go to Malaquis. Ican tell you something that will astonish you: the Cahorn affairis on the point of being settled."

  "Excuse me; I have just seen the Chief of the Surete."

  "What of that? Does Mon. Dudouis know my business better than Ido myself? You will learn that Ganimard--excuse me--that thepseudo-Ganimard still remains on very good terms with the baron.The latter has authorized him to negotiate a very delicatetransaction with me, and, at the present moment, in considerationof a certain sum, it is probable that the baron has recoveredpossession of his pictures and other treasures. And on theirreturn, he will withdraw his complaint. Thus, there is no longerany theft, and the law must abandon the case."

  Ganimard regarded the prisoner with a bewildered air.

  "And how do you know all that?"

  "I have just received the telegram I was expecting."

  "You have just received a telegram?"

  "This very moment, my dear friend. Out of politeness, I did notwish to read it in your presence. But if you will permit me---"

  "You are joking, Lupin."

  "My dear friend, if you will be so kind as to break that egg, youwill learn for yourself that I am not joking."

  Mechanically, Ganimard obeyed, and cracked the egg-shell with theblade of a knife. He uttered a cry of surprise. The shellcontained nothing but a small piece of blue paper. At the requestof Arsene he unfolded it. It was a telegram, or rather a portionof a telegram from which the post-marks had been removed. It readas follows:

  "Contract closed. Hundred thousand balls delivered. All well."

  "One hundred thousand balls?" said Ganimard.

  "Yes, one hundred thousand francs. Very little, but then, youknow, t
hese are hard times....And I have some heavy bills to meet.If you only knew my budget....living in the city comes very high."

  Ganimard arose. His ill humor had disappeared. He reflected fora moment, glancing over the whole affair in an effort to discovera weak point; then, in a tone and manner that betrayed hisadmiration of the prisoner, he said:

  "Fortunately, we do not have a dozen such as you to deal with; ifwe did, we would have to close up shop."

  Arsene Lupin assumed a modest air, as he replied:

  "Bah! a person must have some diversion to occupy his leisurehours, especially when he is in prison."

  "What!" exclaimed Ganimard, "your trial, your defense, theexamination--isn't that sufficient to occupy your mind?"

  "No, because I have decided not to be present at my trial."

  "Oh! oh!"

  Arsene Lupin repeated, positively:

  "I shall not be present at my trial."

  "Really!"

  "Ah! my dear monsieur, do you suppose I am going to rot upon thewet straw? You insult me. Arsene Lupin remains in prison just aslong as it pleases him, and not one minute more."

  "Perhaps it would have been more prudent if you had avoidedgetting there," said the detective, ironically.

  "Ah! monsieur jests? Monsieur must remember that he had the honorto effect my arrest. Know then, my worthy friend, that no one,not even you, could have placed a hand upon me if a much moreimportant event had not occupied my attention at that criticalmoment."

  "You astonish me."

  "A woman was looking at me, Ganimard, and I loved her. Do youfully understand what that means: to be under the eyes of a womanthat one loves? I cared for nothing in the world but that. Andthat is why I am here."

  "Permit me to say: you have been here a long time."

  "In the first place, I wished to forget. Do not laugh; it was adelightful adventure and it is still a tender memory. Besides, Ihave been suffering from neurasthenia. Life is so feverish thesedays that it is necessary to take the `rest cure' occasionally,and I find this spot a sovereign remedy for my tired nerves."

  "Arsene Lupin, you are not a bad fellow, after all."

  "Thank you," said Lupin. "Ganimard, this is Friday. On Wednesdaynext, at four o'clock in the afternoon, I will smoke my cigar atyour house in the rue Pergolese."

  "Arsene Lupin, I will expect you."

  They shook hands like two old friends who valued each other attheir true worth; then the detective stepped to the door.

  "Ganimard!"

  "What is it?" asked Ganimard, as he turned back.

  "You have forgotten your watch."

  "My watch?"

  "Yes, it strayed into my pocket."

  He returned the watch, excusing himself.

  "Pardon me....a bad habit. Because they have taken mine is noreason why I should take yours. Besides, I have a chronometerhere that satisfies me fairly well."

  He took from the drawer a large gold watch and heavy chain.

  "From whose pocket did that come?" asked Ganimard.

  Arsene Lupin gave a hasty glance at the initials engraved on thewatch.

  "J.B.....Who the devil can that be?....Ah! yes, I remember. JulesBouvier, the judge who conducted my examination. A charmingfellow!...."