Arsène Lupin versus Herlock Sholmes Read online

  CHAPTER VII.

  THE JEWISH LAMP.

  Herlock Sholmes and Wilson were sitting in front of the fireplace, incomfortable armchairs, with the feet extended toward the grateful warmthof a glowing coke fire.

  Sholmes' pipe, a short brier with a silver band, had gone out. Heknocked out the ashes, filled it, lighted it, pulled the skirts of hisdressing-gown over his knees, and drew from his pipe great puffs ofsmoke, which ascended toward the ceiling in scores of shadow rings.

  Wilson gazed at him, as a dog lying curled up on a rug before the firemight look at his master, with great round eyes which have no hope otherthan to obey the least gesture of his owner. Was the master going tobreak the silence? Would he reveal to Wilson the subject of his reverieand admit his satellite into the charmed realm of his thoughts? WhenSholmes had maintained his silent attitude for some time. Wilsonventured to speak:

  "Everything seems quiet now. Not the shadow of a case to occupy ourleisure moments."

  Sholmes did not reply, but the rings of smoke emitted by Sholmes werebetter formed, and Wilson observed that his companion drew considerablepleasure from that trifling fact--an indication that the great man wasnot absorbed in any serious meditation. Wilson, discouraged, arose andwent to the window.

  The lonely street extended between the gloomy facades of grimy houses,unusually gloomy this morning by reason of a heavy downfall of rain. Acab passed; then another. Wilson made an entry of their numbers in hismemorandum-book. One never knows!

  "Ah!" he exclaimed, "the postman."

  The man entered, shown in by the servant.

  "Two registered letters, sir ... if you will sign, please?"

  Sholmes signed the receipts, accompanied the man to the door, and wasopening one of the letters as he returned.

  "It seems to please you," remarked Wilson, after a moment's silence.

  "This letter contains a very interesting proposition. You are anxiousfor a case--here's one. Read----"

  Wilson read:

  "Monsieur,

  "I desire the benefit of your services and experience. I have been the victim of a serious theft, and the investigation has as yet been unsuccessful. I am sending to you by this mail a number of newspapers which will inform you of the affair, and if you will undertake the case, I will place my house at your disposal and ask you to fill in the enclosed check, signed by me, for whatever sum you require for your expenses.

  "Kindly reply by telegraph, and much oblige,

  "Your humble servant,

  "Baron Victor d'Imblevalle,

  "18 rue Murillo, Paris."

  "Ah!" exclaimed Sholmes, "that sounds good ... a little trip to Paris... and why not, Wilson? Since my famous duel with Arsene Lupin, I havenot had an excuse to go there. I should be pleased to visit the capitalof the world under less strenuous conditions."

  He tore the check into four pieces and, while Wilson, whose arm had notyet regained its former strength, uttered bitter words against Paris andthe Parisians, Sholmes opened the second envelope. Immediately, he madea gesture of annoyance, and a wrinkle appeared on his forehead duringthe reading of the letter; then, crushing the paper into a ball, hethrew it, angrily, on the floor.

  "Well! What's the matter?" asked Wilson, anxiously.

  He picked up the ball of paper, unfolded it, and read, with increasingamazement:

  "My Dear Monsieur:

  "You know full well the admiration I have for you and the interest I take in your renown. Well, believe me, when I warn you to have nothing whatever to do with the case on which you have just now been called to Paris. Your intervention will cause much harm; your efforts will produce a most lamentable result; and you will be obliged to make a public confession of your defeat.

  "Having a sincere desire to spare you such humiliation, I implore you, in the name of the friendship that unites us, to remain peacefully reposing at your own fireside.

  "My best wishes to Monsieur Wilson, and, for yourself, the sincere regards of your devoted ARSENE LUPIN."

  "Arsene Lupin!" repeated Wilson, astounded.

  Sholmes struck the table with his fist, and exclaimed:

  "Ah! he is pestering me already, the fool! He laughs at me as if I werea schoolboy! The public confession of my defeat! Didn't I force him todisgorge the blue diamond?"

  "I tell you--he's afraid," suggested Wilson.

  "Nonsense! Arsene Lupin is not afraid, and this taunting letter provesit."

  "But how did he know that the Baron d'Imblevalle had written to you?"

  "What do I know about it? You do ask some stupid questions, my boy."

  "I thought ... I supposed----"

  "What? That I am a clairvoyant? Or a sorcerer?"

  "No, but I have seen you do some marvellous things."

  "No person can perform _marvellous_ things. I no more than you. Ireflect, I deduct, I conclude--that is all; but I do not divine. Onlyfools divine."

  Wilson assumed the attitude of a whipped cur, and resolved not to make afool of himself by trying to divine why Sholmes paced the room withquick, nervous strides. But when Sholmes rang for the servant andordered his valise, Wilson thought that he was in possession of amaterial fact which gave him the right to reflect, deduct and concludethat his associate was about to take a journey. The same mentaloperation permitted him to assert, with almost mathematical exactness:

  "Sholmes, you are going to Paris."

  "Possibly."

  "And Lupin's affront impels you to go, rather than the desire to assistthe Baron d'Imblevalle."

  "Possibly."

  "Sholmes, I shall go with you."

  "Ah; ah! my old friend," exclaimed Sholmes, interrupting his walking,"you are not afraid that your right arm will meet the same fate as yourleft?"

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

  "That's the way to talk, Wilson. We will show that clever Frenchman thathe made a mistake when he threw his glove in our faces. Be quick,Wilson, we must catch the first train."

  "Without waiting for the papers the baron has sent you?"

  "What good are they?"

  "I will send a telegram."

  "No; if you do that, Arsene Lupin will know of my arrival. I wish toavoid that. This time, Wilson, we must fight under cover."

  * * * * *

  That afternoon, the two friends embarked at Dover. The passage was adelightful one. In the train from Calais to Paris, Sholmes had threehours sound sleep, while Wilson guarded the door of the compartment.

  Sholmes awoke in good spirits. He was delighted at the idea of anotherduel with Arsene Lupin, and he rubbed his hands with the satisfied airof a man who looks forward to a pleasant vacation.

  "At last!" exclaimed Wilson, "we are getting to work again."

  And he rubbed his hands with the same satisfied air.

  At the station, Sholmes took the wraps and, followed by Wilson, whocarried the valises, he gave up his tickets and started off briskly.

  "Fine weather, Wilson.... Blue sky and sunshine! Paris is giving us aroyal reception."

  "Yes, but what a crowd!"

  "So much the better, Wilson, we will pass unnoticed. No one willrecognize us in such a crowd."

  "Is this Monsieur Sholmes?"

  He stopped, somewhat puzzled. Who the deuce could thus address him byhis name? A woman stood beside him; a young girl whose simple dressoutlined her slender form and whose pretty face had a sad and anxiousexpression. She repeated her enquiry:

  "You are Monsieur Sholmes?"

  As he still remained silent, as much from confusion as from a habit ofprudence, the girl asked a third time:

  "Have I the honor of addressing Monsieur Sholmes?"

  "What do you want?" he replied, testily, considering the incident asuspicious one.

  "You must listen to me, Monsieur Sholmes, as it is a serious matter. Iknow that you are going to the rue Murillo."
/>
  "What do you say?"

  "I know ... I know ... rue Murillo ... number 18. Well, you must not go... no, you must not. I assure you that you will regret it. Do not thinkthat I have any interest in the matter. I do it because it is right ...because my conscience tells me to do it."

  Sholmes tried to get away, but she persisted:

  "Oh! I beg of you, don't neglect my advice.... Ah! if I only knew how toconvince you! Look at me! Look into my eyes! They are sincere ... theyspeak the truth."

  She gazed at Sholmes, fearlessly but innocently, with those beautifuleyes, serious and clear, in which her very soul seemed to be reflected.

  Wilson nodded his head, as he said:

  "Mademoiselle looks honest."

  "Yes," she implored, "and you must have confidence----"

  "I have confidence in you, mademoiselle," replied Wilson.

  "Oh, how happy you make me! And so has your friend? I feel it ... I amsure of it! What happiness! Everything will be all right now!... What agood idea of mine!... Ah! yes, there is a train for Calais in twentyminutes. You will take it.... Quick, follow me ... you must come thisway ... there is just time."

  She tried to drag them along. Sholmes seized her arm, and in as gentle avoice as he could assume, said to her:

  "Excuse me, mademoiselle, if I cannot yield to your wishes, but I neverabandon a task that I have once undertaken."

  "I beseech you ... I implore you.... Ah if you could only understand!"

  Sholmes passed outside and walked away at a quick pace. Wilson said tothe girl:

  "Have no fear ... he will be in at the finish. He never failed yet."

  And he ran to overtake Sholmes.

  HERLOCK SHOLMES--ARSENE LUPIN.

  These words, in great black letters, met their gaze as soon as they leftthe railway station. A number of sandwich-men were parading through thestreet, one behind the other, carrying heavy canes with iron ferruleswith which they struck the pavement in harmony, and, on their backs,they carried large posters, on which one could read the followingnotice:

  THE MATCH BETWEEN HERLOCK SHOLMESAND ARSENE LUPIN. ARRIVAL OF THE ENGLISHCHAMPION. THE GREAT DETECTIVE ATTACKSTHE MYSTERY OF THE RUE MURILLO. READ THEDETAILS IN THE "ECHO DE FRANCE".

  Wilson shook his head, and said:

  "Look at that, Sholmes, and we thought we were traveling incognito! Ishouldn't be surprised to find the republican guard waiting for us atthe rue Murillo to give us an official reception with toasts andchampagne."

  "Wilson, when you get funny, you get beastly funny," growled Sholmes.

  Then he approached one of the sandwich-men with the obvious intention ofseizing him in his powerful grip and crushing him, together with hisinfernal sign-board. There was quite a crowd gathered about the men,reading the notices, and joking and laughing.

  Repressing a furious access of rage, Sholmes said to the man:

  "When did they hire you?"

  "This morning."

  "How long have you been parading?"

  "About an hour."

  "But the boards were ready before that?"

  "Oh, yes, they were ready when we went to the agency this morning."

  So then it appears that Arsene Lupin had foreseen that he, Sholmes,would accept the challenge. More than that, the letter written by Lupinshowed that he was eager for the fray and that he was prepared tomeasure swords once more with his formidable rival. Why! What motivecould Arsene Lupin have in renewing the struggle!

  Sholmes hesitated for a moment. Lupin must be very confident of hissuccess to show so much insolence in advance; and was not he, Sholmes,falling into a trap by rushing into the battle at the first call forhelp?

  However, he called a carriage.

  "Come, Wilson!... Driver, 18 rue Murillo!" he exclaimed, with anoutburst of his accustomed energy. With distended veins and clenchedfists, as if he were about to engage in a boxing bout, he jumped intothe carriage.

  * * * * *

  The rue Murillo is bordered with magnificent private residences, therear of which overlook the Parc Monceau. One of the most pretentious ofthese houses is number 18, owned and occupied by the Baron d'Imblevalleand furnished in a luxurious manner consistent with the owner's tasteand wealth. There was a courtyard in front of the house, and, in therear, a garden well filled with trees whose branches mingle with thoseof the park.

  After ringing the bell, the two Englishmen were admitted, crossed thecourtyard, and were received at the door by a footman who showed theminto a small parlor facing the garden in the rear of the house. They satdown and, glancing about, made a rapid inspection of the many valuableobjects with which the room was filled.

  "Everything very choice," murmured Wilson, "and in the best of taste. Itis a safe deduction to make that those who had the leisure to collectthese articles must now be at least fifty years of age."

  The door opened, and the Baron d'Imblevalle entered, followed by hiswife. Contrary to the deduction made by Wilson, they were both quiteyoung, of elegant appearance, and vivacious in speech and action. Theywere profuse in their expressions of gratitude.

  "So kind of you to come! Sorry to have caused you so much trouble! Thetheft now seems of little consequence, since it has procured us thispleasure."

  "How charming these French people are!" thought Wilson, evolving one ofhis commonplace deductions.

  "But time is money," exclaimed the baron, "especially your time,Monsieur Sholmes. So I will come to the point. Now, what do you think ofthe affair? Do you think you can succeed in it?"

  "Before I can answer that I must know what it is about."

  "I thought you knew."

  "No; so I must ask you for full particulars, even to the smallestdetail. First, what is the nature of the case?"

  "A theft."

  "When did it take place?"

  "Last Saturday," replied the baron, "or, at least, some time duringSaturday night or Sunday morning."

  "That was six days ago. Now, you can tell me all about it."

  "In the first place, monsieur, I must tell you that my wife and I,conforming to the manner of life that our position demands, go out verylittle. The education of our children, a few receptions, and the careand decoration of our house--such constitutes our life; and nearly allour evenings are spent in this little room, which is my wife's boudoir,and in which we have gathered a few artistic objects. Last Saturdaynight, about eleven o'clock, I turned off the electric lights, and mywife and I retired, as usual, to our room."

  "Where is your room?"

  "It adjoins this. That is the door. Next morning, that is to say, Sundaymorning, I arose quite early. As Suzanne, my wife, was still asleep, Ipassed into the boudoir as quietly as possible so as not to wake her.What was my astonishment when I found that window open--as we had leftit closed the evening before!"

  "A servant----"

  "No one enters here in the morning until we ring. Besides, I always takethe precaution to bolt the second door which communicates with theante-chamber. Therefore, the window must have been opened from theoutside. Besides, I have some evidence of that: the second pane of glassfrom the right--close to the fastening--had been cut."

  "And what does that window overlook?"

  "As you can see for yourself, it opens on a little balcony, surroundedby a stone railing. Here, we are on the first floor, and you can see thegarden behind the house and the iron fence which separates it from theParc Monceau. It is quite certain that the thief came through the park,climbed the fence by the aid of a ladder, and thus reached the terracebelow the window."

  "That is quite certain, you say!"

  "Well, in the soft earth on either side of the fence, they found the twoholes made by the bottom of the ladder, and two similar holes can beseen below the window. And the stone railing of the balcony shows twoscratches which were doubtless made by the contact of the ladder."

  "Is the Parc Monceau closed at night?"

  "No; but if it were, there is a house in course of erection a
t number14, and a person could enter that way."

  Herlock Sholmes reflected for a few minutes, and then said:

  "Let us come down to the theft. It must have been committed in thisroom?"

  "Yes; there was here, between that twelfth century Virgin and thattabernacle of chased silver, a small Jewish lamp. It has disappeared."

  "And is that all?"

  "That is all."

  "Ah!... And what is a Jewish lamp!"

  "One of those copper lamps used by the ancient Jews, consisting of astandard which supported a bowl containing the oil, and from this bowlprojected several burners intended for the wicks."

  "Upon the whole, an object of small value."

  "No great value, of course. But this one contained a secret hiding-placein which we were accustomed to place a magnificent jewel, a chimera ingold, set with rubies and emeralds, which was of great value."

  "Why did you hide it there?"

  "Oh! I can't give any reason, monsieur, unless it was an odd fancy toutilize a hiding-place of that kind."

  "Did anyone know it?"

  "No."

  "No one--except the thief," said Sholmes. "Otherwise he would not havetaken the trouble to steal the lamp."

  "Of course. But how could he know it, as it was only by accident thatthe secret mechanism of the lamp was revealed to us."

  "A similar accident has revealed it to some one else ... a servant ...or an acquaintance. But let us proceed: I suppose the police have beennotified?"

  "Yes. The examining magistrate has completed his investigation. Thereporter-detectives attached to the leading newspapers have also madetheir investigations. But, as I wrote to you, it seems to me the mysterywill never be solved."

  Sholmes arose, went to the window, examined the casement, the balcony,the terrace, studied the scratches on the stone railing with hismagnifying-glass, and then requested Mon. d'Imblevalle to show him thegarden.

  Outside, Sholmes sat down in a rattan chair and gazed at the roof of thehouse in a dreamy way. Then he walked over to the two little woodenboxes with which they had covered the holes made in the ground by thebottom of the ladder with a view of preserving them intact. He raisedthe boxes, kneeled on the ground, scrutinized the holes and made somemeasurements. After making a similar examination of the holes near thefence, he and the baron returned to the boudoir where Madamed'Imblevalle was waiting for them. After a short silence Sholmes said:

  "At the very outset of your story, baron, I was surprised at the verysimple methods employed by the thief. To raise a ladder, cut awindow-pane, select a valuable article, and walk out again--no, that isnot the way such things are done. All that is too plain, too simple."

  "Well, what do you think!"

  "That the Jewish lamp was stolen under the direction of Arsene Lupin."

  "Arsene Lupin!" exclaimed the baron.

  "Yes, but he did not do it himself, as no one came from the outside.Perhaps a servant descended from the upper floor by means of awaterspout that I noticed when I was in the garden."

  "What makes you think so!"

  "Arsene Lupin would not leave this room empty-handed."

  "Empty-handed! But he had the lamp."

  "But that would not have prevented his taking that snuff-box, set withdiamonds, or that opal necklace. When he leaves anything, it is becausehe can't carry it away."

  "But the marks of the ladder outside!"

  "A false scent. Placed there simply to avert suspicion."

  "And the scratches on the balustrade?"

  "A farce! They were made with a piece of sandpaper. See, here are scrapsof the paper that I picked up in the garden."

  "And what about the marks made by the bottom of the ladder?"

  "Counterfeit! Examine the two rectangular holes below the window, andthe two holes near the fence. They are of a similar form, but I findthat the two holes near the house are closer to each other than the twoholes near the fence. What does that fact suggest? To me, it suggestedthat the four holes were made by a piece of wood prepared for thepurpose."

  "The better proof would be the piece of wood itself."

  "Here it is," said Sholmes, "I found it in the garden, under the box ofa laurel tree."

  The baron bowed to Sholmes in recognition of his skill. Only fortyminutes had elapsed since the Englishman had entered the house, and hehad already exploded all the theories theretofore formed, and which hadbeen based on what appeared to be obvious and undeniable facts. But whatnow appeared to be the real facts of the case rested upon a more solidfoundation, to-wit, the astute reasoning of a Herlock Sholmes.

  "The accusation which you make against one of our household is a veryserious matter," said the baroness. "Our servants have been with us along time and none of them would betray our trust."

  "If none of them has betrayed you, how can you explain the fact that Ireceived this letter on the same day and by the same mail as the letteryou wrote to me?"

  He handed to the baroness the letter that he had received from ArseneLupin. She exclaimed, in amazement:

  "Arsene Lupin! How could he know?"

  "Did you tell anyone that you had written to me?"

  "No one," replied the baron. "The idea occurred to us the other eveningat the dinner-table."

  "Before the servants?"

  "No, only our two children. Oh, no ... Sophie and Henriette had left thetable, hadn't they, Suzanne?"

  Madame d'Imblevalle, after a moment's reflection, replied:

  "Yes, they had gone to Mademoiselle."

  "Mademoiselle?" queried Sholmes.

  "The governess, Mademoiselle Alice Demun."

  "Does she take her meals with you?"

  "No. Her meals are served in her room."

  Wilson had an idea. He said:

  "The letter written to my friend Herlock Sholmes was posted?"

  "Of course."

  "Who posted it?"

  "Dominique, who has been my valet for twenty years," replied the baron."Any search in that direction would be a waste of time."

  "One never wastes his time when engaged in a search," said Wilson,sententiously.

  This preliminary investigation now ended, and Sholmes asked permissionto retire.

  At dinner, an hour later, he saw Sophie and Henriette, the two childrenof the family, one was six and the other eight years of age. There wasvery little conversation at the table. Sholmes responded to the friendlyadvances of his hosts in such a curt manner that they were soon reducedto silence. When the coffee was served, Sholmes swallowed the contentsof his cup, and rose to take his leave.

  At that moment, a servant entered with a telephone message addressed toSholmes. He opened it, and read:

  "You have my enthusiastic admiration. The results attained by you in so short a time are simply marvellous. I am dismayed.

  "ARSENE LUPIN."

  Sholmes made a gesture of indignation and handed the message to thebaron, saying:

  "What do you think now, monsieur? Are the walls of your house furnishedwith eyes and ears?"

  "I don't understand it," said the baron, in amazement.

  "Nor do I; but I do understand that Lupin has knowledge of everythingthat occurs in this house. He knows every movement, every word. There isno doubt of it. But how does he get his information? That is the firstmystery I have to solve, and when I know that I will know everything."

  * * * * *

  That night, Wilson retired with the clear conscience of a man who hasperformed his whole duty and thus acquired an undoubted right to sleepand repose. So he fell asleep very quickly, and was soon enjoying themost delightful dreams in which he pursued Lupin and captured himsingle-handed; and the sensation was so vivid and exciting that it wokehim from his sleep. Someone was standing at his bedside. He seized hisrevolver, and cried:

  "Don't move, Lupin, or I'll fire."

  "The deuce! Wilson, what do you mean?"

  "Oh! it is you, Sholmes. Do you want me!"

  "I
want to show you something. Get up."

  Sholmes led him to the window, and said:

  "Look!... on the other side of the fence...."

  "In the park?"

  "Yes. What do you see?"

  "I don't see anything."

  "Yes, you do see something."

  "Ah! of course, a shadow ... two of them."

  "Yes, close to the fence. See, they are moving. Come, quick!"

  Quickly they descended the stairs, and reached a room which opened intothe garden. Through the glass door they could see the two shadowy formsin the same place.

  "It is very strange," said Sholmes, "but it seems to me I can hear anoise inside the house."

  "Inside the house? Impossible! Everybody is asleep."

  "Well, listen----"

  At that moment a low whistle came from the other side of the fence, andthey perceived a dim light which appeared to come from the house.

  "The baron must have turned on the light in his room. It is just aboveus."

  "That must have been the noise you heard," said Wilson. "Perhaps theyare watching the fence also."

  Then there was a second whistle, softer than before.

  "I don't understand it; I don't understand," said Sholmes, irritably.

  "No more do I," confessed Wilson.

  Sholmes turned the key, drew the bolt, and quietly opened the door. Athird whistle, louder than before, and modulated to another form. Andthe noise above their heads became more pronounced. Sholmes said:

  "It seems to be on the balcony outside the boudoir window."

  He put his head through the half-opened door, but immediately recoiled,with a stifled oath. Then Wilson looked. Quite close to them there was aladder, the upper end of which was resting on the balcony.

  "The deuce!" said Sholmes, "there is someone in the boudoir. That iswhat we heard. Quick, let us remove the ladder."

  But at that instant a man slid down the ladder and ran toward the spotwhere his accomplices were waiting for him outside the fence. Hecarried the ladder with him. Sholmes and Wilson pursued the man andovertook him just as he was placing the ladder against the fence. Fromthe other side of the fence two shots were fired.

  "Wounded?" cried Sholmes.

  "No," replied Wilson.

  Wilson seized the man by the body and tried to hold him, but the manturned and plunged a knife into Wilson's breast. He uttered a groan,staggered and fell.

  "Damnation!" muttered Sholmes, "if they have killed him I will killthem."

  He laid Wilson on the grass and rushed toward the ladder. Too late--theman had climbed the fence and, accompanied by his confederates, had fledthrough the bushes.

  "Wilson, Wilson, it is not serious, hein? Merely a scratch."

  The house door opened, and Monsieur d'Imblevalle appeared, followed bythe servants, carrying candles.

  "What's the matter?" asked the baron. "Is Monsieur Wilson wounded?"

  "Oh! it's nothing--a mere scratch," repeated Sholmes, trying to deceivehimself.

  The blood was flowing profusely, and Wilson's face was livid. Twentyminutes later the doctor ascertained that the point of the knife hadpenetrated to within an inch and a half of the heart.

  "An inch and a half of the heart! Wilson always was lucky!" saidSholmes, in an envious tone.

  "Lucky ... lucky...." muttered the doctor.

  "Of course! Why, with his robust constitution he will soon be outagain."

  "Six weeks in bed and two months of convalescence."

  "Not more?"

  "No, unless complications set in."

  "Oh! the devil! what does he want complications for?"

  Fully reassured, Sholmes joined the baron in the boudoir. This time themysterious visitor had not exercised the same restraint. Ruthlessly, hehad laid his vicious hand upon the diamond snuff-box, upon the opalnecklace, and, in a general way, upon everything that could find a placein the greedy pockets of an enterprising burglar.

  The window was still open; one of the window-panes had been neatly cut;and, in the morning, a summary investigation showed that the ladderbelonged to the house then in course of construction.

  "Now, you can see," said Mon. d'Imblevalle, with a touch of irony, "itis an exact repetition of the affair of the Jewish lamp."

  "Yes, if we accept the first theory adopted by the police."

  "Haven't you adopted it yet? Doesn't this second theft shatter yourtheory in regard to the first?"

  "It only confirms it, monsieur."

  "That is incredible! You have positive evidence that last night's theftwas committed by an outsider, and yet you adhere to your theory that theJewish lamp was stolen by someone in the house."

  "Yes, I am sure of it."

  "How do you explain it?"

  "I do not explain anything, monsieur; I have established two facts whichdo not appear to have any relation to each other, and yet I am seekingthe missing link that connects them."

  His conviction seemed to be so earnest and positive that the baronsubmitted to it, and said:

  "Very well, we will notify the police----"

  "Not at all!" exclaimed the Englishman, quickly, "not at all! I intendto ask for their assistance when I need it--but not before."

  "But the attack on your friend?"

  "That's of no consequence. He is only wounded. Secure the license of thedoctor. I shall be responsible for the legal side of the affair."

  * * * * *

  The next two days proved uneventful. Yet Sholmes was investigating thecase with a minute care, and with a sense of wounded pride resultingfrom that audacious theft, committed under his nose, in spite of hispresence and beyond his power to prevent it. He made a thoroughinvestigation of the house and garden, interviewed the servants, andpaid lengthy visits to the kitchen and stables. And, although hisefforts were fruitless, he did not despair.

  "I will succeed," he thought, "and the solution must be sought withinthe walls of this house. This affair is quite different from that of theblonde Lady, where I had to work in the dark, on unknown ground. Thistime I am on the battlefield itself. The enemy is not the elusive andinvisible Lupin, but the accomplice, in flesh and blood, who lives andmoves within the confines of this house. Let me secure the slightestclue and the game is mine!"

  That clue was furnished to him by accident.

  On the afternoon of the third day, when he entered a room located abovethe boudoir, which served as a study for the children, he foundHenriette, the younger of the two sisters. She was looking for herscissors.

  "You know," she said to Sholmes, "I make papers like that you receivedthe other evening."

  "The other evening?"

  "Yes, just as dinner was over, you received a paper with marks on it ...you know, a telegram.... Well, I make them, too."

  She left the room. To anyone else these words would seem to be nothingmore than the insignificant remark of a child, and Sholmes himselflistened to them with a distracted air and continued his investigation.But, suddenly, he ran after the child, and overtook her at the head ofthe stairs. He said to her:

  "So you paste stamps and marks on papers?"

  Henriette, very proudly, replied:

  "Yes, I cut them out and paste them on."

  "Who taught you that little game?"

  "Mademoiselle ... my governess ... I have seen her do it often. Shetakes words out of the newspapers and pastes them----"

  "What does she make out of them?"

  "Telegrams and letters that she sends away."

  Herlock Sholmes returned to the study, greatly puzzled by theinformation and seeking to draw from it a logical deduction. There was apile of newspapers on the mantel. He opened them and found that manywords and, in some places, entire lines had been cut out. But, afterreading a few of the word's which preceded or followed, he decided thatthe missing words had been cut out at random--probably by the child. Itwas possible that one of the newspapers had been cut by mademoiselle;but how could he assure himself that such was the
case?

  Mechanically, Sholmes turned over the school-books on the table; thenothers which were lying on the shelf of a bookcase. Suddenly he uttereda cry of joy. In a corner of the bookcase, under a pile of old exercisebooks, he found a child's alphabet-book, in which the letters wereornamented with pictures, and on one of the pages of that book hediscovered a place where a word had been removed. He examined it. Itwas a list of the days of the week. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, etc. Theword "Saturday" was missing. Now, the theft of the Jewish lamp hadoccurred on a Saturday night.

  Sholmes experienced that slight fluttering of the heart which alwaysannounced to him, in the clearest manner, that he had discovered theroad which leads to victory. That ray of truth, that feeling ofcertainty, never deceived him.

  With nervous fingers he hastened to examine the balance of the book.Very soon he made another discovery. It was a page composed of capitalletters, followed by a line of figures. Nine of those letters and threeof those figures had been carefully cut out. Sholmes made a list of themissing letters and figures in his memorandum book, in alphabetical andnumerical order, and obtained the following result:

  CDEHNOPEZ--237.

  "Well! at first sight, it is a rather formidable puzzle," he murmured,"but, by transposing the letters and using all of them, is it possibleto form one, two or three complete words?"

  Sholmes tried it, in vain.

  Only one solution seemed possible; it constantly appeared before him, nomatter which way he tried to juggle the letters, until, at length, hewas satisfied it was the true solution, since it harmonized with thelogic of the facts and the general circumstances of the case.

  As that page of the book did not contain any duplicate letters it wasprobable, in fact quite certain, that the words he could form from thoseletters would be incomplete, and that the original words had beencompleted with letters taken from other pages. Under those conditions heobtained the following solution, errors and omissions excepted:

  REPOND Z--CH--237.

  The first word was quite clear: repondez [reply], a letter E is missingbecause it occurs twice in the word, and the book furnished only oneletter of each kind.

  As to the second incomplete word, no doubt it formed, with the aid ofthe number 237, an address to which the reply was to be sent. Theyappointed Saturday as the time, and requested a reply to be sent to theaddress CH. 237.

  Or, perhaps, CH. 237 was an address for a letter to be sent to the"general delivery" of some postoffice, or, again, they might form apart of some incomplete word. Sholmes searched the book once more, butdid not discover that any other letters had been removed. Therefore,until further orders, he decided to adhere to the foregoinginterpretation.

  Henriette returned and observed what he was doing.

  "Amusing, isn't it?"

  "Yes, very amusing," he replied. "But, have you any other papers?... Or,rather, words already cut out that I can paste?"

  "Papers?... No.... And Mademoiselle wouldn't like it."

  "Mademoiselle?"

  "Yes, she has scolded me already."

  "Why?"

  "Because I have told you some things ... and she says that a personshould never tell things about those they love."

  "You are quite right."

  Henriette was delighted to receive his approbation, in fact so highlypleased that she took from a little silk bag that was pinned to herdress some scraps of cloth, three buttons, two cubes of sugar and,lastly, a piece of paper which she handed to Sholmes.

  "See, I give it to you just the same."

  It was the number of a cab--8,279.

  "Where did this number come from?"

  "It fell out of her pocketbook."

  "When?"

  "Sunday, at mass, when she was taking out some sous for the collection."

  "Exactly! And now I shall tell you how to keep from being scolded again.Do not tell Mademoiselle that you saw me."

  Sholmes then went to Mon. d'Imblevalle and questioned him in regard toMademoiselle. The baron replied, indignantly:

  "Alice Demun! How can you imagine such a thing? It is utterlyimpossible!"

  "How long has she been in your service?"

  "Only a year, but there is no one in the house in whom I have greaterconfidence."

  "Why have I not seen her yet?"

  "She has been away for a few days."

  "But she is here now."

  "Yes; since her return she has been watching at the bedside of yourfriend. She has all the qualities of a nurse ... gentle ... thoughtful... Monsieur Wilson seems much pleased...."

  "Ah!" said Sholmes, who had completely neglected to inquire about hisfriend. After a moment's reflection he asked:

  "Did she go out on Sunday morning?"

  "The day after the theft?"

  "Yes."

  The baron called his wife and asked her. She replied:

  "Mademoiselle went to the eleven o'clock mass with the children, asusual."

  "But before that?"

  "Before that? No.... Let me see!... I was so upset by the theft ... butI remember now that, on the evening before, she asked permission to goout on Sunday morning ... to see a cousin who was passing through Paris,I think. But, surely, you don't suspect her?"

  "Of course not ... but I would like to see her."

  He went to Wilson's room. A woman dressed in a gray cloth dress, as inthe hospitals, was bending over the invalid, giving him a drink. Whenshe turned her face Sholmes recognized her as the young girl who hadaccosted him at the railway station.

  Alice Demun smiled sweetly; her great serious, innocent eyes showed nosign of embarrassment. The Englishman tried to speak, muttered a fewsyllables, and stopped. Then she resumed her work, acting quitenaturally under Sholmes' astonished gaze, moved the bottles, unrolledand rolled cotton bandages, and again regarded Sholmes with her charmingsmile of pure innocence.

  He turned on his heels, descended the stairs, noticed Mon.d'Imblevalle's automobile in the courtyard, jumped into it, and went toLevallois, to the office of the cab company whose address was printed onthe paper he had received from Henriette. The man who had drivencarriage number 8,279 on Sunday morning not being there, Sholmesdismissed the automobile and waited for the man's return. He toldSholmes that he had picked up a woman in the vicinity of the ParcMonceau, a young woman dressed in black, wearing a heavy veil, and,apparently, quite nervous.

  "Did she have a package?"

  "Yes, quite a long package."

  "Where did you take her?"

  "Avenue des Ternes, corner of the Place Saint-Ferdinand. She remainedthere about ten minutes, and then returned to the Parc Monceau."

  "Could you recognize the house in the avenue des Ternes?"

  "Parbleu! Shall I take you there?"

  "Presently. First take me to 36 quai des Orfevres."

  At the police office he saw Detective Ganimard.

  "Monsieur Ganimard, are you at liberty?"

  "If it has anything to do with Lupin--no!"

  "It has something to do with Lupin."

  "Then I do not go."

  "What! you surrender----"

  "I bow to the inevitable. I am tired of the unequal struggle, in whichwe are sure to be defeated. Lupin is stronger than I am--stronger thanthe two of us; therefore, we must surrender."

  "I will not surrender."

  "He will make you, as he has all others."

  "And you would be pleased to see it--eh, Ganimard?"

  "At all events, it is true," said Ganimard, frankly. "And since you aredetermined to pursue the game, I will go with you."

  Together they entered the carriage and were driven to the avenue desTernes. Upon their order the carriage stopped on the other side of thestreet, at some distance from the house, in front of a little cafe, onthe terrace of which the two men took seats amongst the shrubbery. Itwas commencing to grow dark.

  "Waiter," said Sholmes, "some writing material."

  He wrote a note, recalled the waiter and gave him the letter withinstructions to
deliver it to the concierge of the house which hepointed out.

  In a few minutes the concierge stood before them. Sholmes asked him if,on the Sunday morning, he had seen a young woman dressed in black.

  "In black! Yes, about nine o'clock. She went to the second floor."

  "Have you seen her often?"

  "No, but for some time--well, during the last few weeks, I have seen heralmost every day."

  "And since Sunday?"

  "Only once ... until to-day."

  "What! Did she come to-day?"

  "She is here now."

  "Here now?"

  "Yes, she came about ten minutes ago. Her carriage is standing in thePlace Saint-Ferdinand, as usual. I met her at the door."

  "Who is the occupant of the second floor?"

  "There are two: a modiste, Mademoiselle Langeais, and a gentleman whorented two furnished rooms a month ago under the name of Bresson."

  "Why do you say 'under the name'?"

  "Because I have an idea that it is an assumed name. My wife takes careof his rooms, and ... well, there are not two shirts there with the sameinitials."

  "Is he there much of the time?"

  "No; he is nearly always out. He has not been here for three days."

  "Was he here on Saturday night?"

  "Saturday night?... Let me think.... Yes, Saturday night, he came in andstayed all night."

  "What sort of a man is he?"

  "Well, I can scarcely answer that. He is so changeable. He is, by turns,big, little, fat, thin ... dark and light. I do not always recognizehim."

  Ganimard and Sholmes exchanged looks.

  "That is he, all right," said Ganimard.

  "Ah!" said the concierge, "there is the girl now."

  Mademoiselle had just emerged from the house and was walking toward hercarriage in the Place Saint-Ferdinand.

  "And there is Monsieur Bresson."

  "Monsieur Bresson? Which is he?"

  "The man with the parcel under his arm."

  "But he is not looking after the girl. She is going to her carriagealone."

  "Yes, I have never seen them together."

  The two detectives had arisen. By the light of the street-lamps theyrecognized the form of Arsene Lupin, who had started off in a directionopposite to that taken by the girl.

  "Which will you follow?" asked Ganimard.

  "I will follow him, of course. He's the biggest game."

  "Then I will follow the girl," proposed Ganimard.

  "No, no," said Sholmes, quickly, who did not wish to disclose the girl'sidentity to Ganimard, "I know where to find her. Come with me."

  They followed Lupin at a safe distance, taking care to concealthemselves as well as possible amongst the moving throng and behind thenewspaper kiosks. They found the pursuit an easy one, as he walkedsteadily forward without turning to the right or left, but with aslight limp in the right leg, so slight as to require the keen eye of aprofessional observer to detect it. Ganimard observed it, and said:

  "He is pretending to be lame. Ah! if we could only collect two or threepolicemen and pounce on our man! We run a chance to lose him."

  But they did not meet any policemen before they reached the Porte desTernes, and, having passed the fortifications, there was no prospect ofreceiving any assistance.

  "We had better separate," said Sholmes, "as there are so few people onthe street."

  They were now on the Boulevard Victor-Hugo. They walked one on each sideof the street, and kept well in the shadow of the trees. They continuedthus for twenty minutes, when Lupin turned to the left and followed theSeine. Very soon they saw him descend to the edge of the river. Heremained there only a few seconds, but they could not observe hismovements. Then Lupin retraced his steps. His pursuers concealedthemselves in the shadow of a gateway. Lupin passed in front of them.His parcel had disappeared. And as he walked away another man emergedfrom the shelter of a house and glided amongst the trees.

  "He seems to be following him also," said Sholmes, in a low voice.

  The pursuit continued, but was now embarrassed by the presence of thethird man. Lupin returned the same way, passed through the Porte desTernes, and re-entered the house in the avenue des Ternes.

  The concierge was closing the house for the night when Ganimardpresented himself.

  "Did you see him?"

  "Yes," replied the concierge, "I was putting out the gas on the landingwhen he closed and bolted his door."

  "Is there any person with him?"

  "No; he has no servant. He never eats here."

  "Is there a servants' stairway?"

  "No."

  Ganimard said to Sholmes:

  "I had better stand at the door of his room while you go for thecommissary of police in the rue Demours."

  "And if he should escape during that time?" said Sholmes.

  "While I am here! He can't escape."

  "One to one, with Lupin, is not an even chance for you."

  "Well, I can't force the door. I have no right to do that, especially atnight."

  Sholmes shrugged his shoulders and said:

  "When you arrest Lupin no one will question the methods by which youmade the arrest. However, let us go up and ring, and see what happensthen."

  They ascended to the second floor. There was a double door at the leftof the landing. Ganimard rang the bell. No reply. He rang again. Stillno reply.

  "Let us go in," said Sholmes.

  "All right, come on," replied Ganimard.

  Yet, they stood still, irresolute. Like people who hesitate when theyought to accomplish a decisive action they feared to move, and it seemedto them impossible that Arsene Lupin was there, so close to them, on theother side of that fragile door that could be broken down by one blow ofthe fist. But they knew Lupin too well to suppose that he would allowhimself to be trapped in that stupid manner. No, no--a thousand times,no--Lupin was no longer there. Through the adjoining houses, over theroofs, by some conveniently prepared exit, he must have already madehis escape, and, once more, it would only be Lupin's shadow that theywould seize.

  They shuddered as a slight noise, coming from the other side of thedoor, reached their ears. Then they had the impression, amounting almostto a certainty, that he was there, separated from them by that frailwooden door, and that he was listening to them, that he could hear them.

  What was to be done? The situation was a serious one. In spite of theirvast experience as detectives, they were so nervous and excited thatthey thought they could hear the beating of their own hearts. Ganimardquestioned Sholmes by a look. Then he struck the door a violent blowwith his fist. Immediately they heard the sound of footsteps, concerningwhich there was no attempt at concealment.

  Ganimard shook the door. Then he and Sholmes, uniting their efforts,rushed at the door, and burst it open with their shoulders. Then theystood still, in surprise. A shot had been fired in the adjoining room.Another shot, and the sound of a falling body.

  When they entered they saw the man lying on the floor with his facetoward the marble mantel. His revolver had fallen from his hand.Ganimard stooped and turned the man's head. The face was covered withblood, which was flowing from two wounds, one in the cheek, the other inthe temple.

  "You can't recognize him for blood."

  "No matter!" said Sholmes. "It is not Lupin."

  "How do you know? You haven't even looked at him."

  "Do you think that Arsene Lupin is the kind of a man that would killhimself?" asked Sholmes, with a sneer.

  "But we thought we recognized him outside."

  "We thought so, because the wish was father to the thought. That man hasus bewitched."

  "Then it must be one of his accomplices."

  "The accomplices of Arsene Lupin do not kill themselves."

  "Well, then, who is it?"

  They searched the corpse. In one pocket Herlock Sholmes found an emptypocketbook; in another Ganimard found several louis. There were no marksof identification on any part of his clothing. In
a trunk and twovalises they found nothing but wearing apparel. On the mantel there wasa pile of newspapers. Ganimard opened them. All of them containedarticles referring to the theft of the Jewish lamp.

  An hour later, when Ganimard and Sholmes left the house, they hadacquired no further knowledge of the strange individual who had beendriven to suicide by their untimely visit.

  Who was he! Why had he killed himself? What was his connection with theaffair of the Jewish lamp? Who had followed him on his return from theriver? The situation involved many complex questions--many mysteries----

  * * * * *

  Herlock Sholmes went to bed in a very bad humor. Early next morning hereceived the following telephonic message:

  "Arsene Lupin has the honor to inform you of his tragic death in theperson of Monsieur Bresson, and requests the honor of your presence atthe funeral service and burial, which will be held at the public expenseon Thursday, 25 June."

  CHAPTER VIII.

  THE SHIPWRECK.

  "That's what I don't like, Wilson," said Herlock Sholmes, after he hadread Arsene Lupin's message; "that is what exasperates me in thisaffair--to feel that the cunning, mocking eye of that fellow follows meeverywhere. He sees everything; he knows everything; he reads my inmostthoughts; he even foresees my slightest movement. Ah! he is possessed ofa marvellous intuition, far surpassing that of the most instinctivewoman, yes, surpassing even that of Herlock Sholmes himself. Nothingescapes him. I resemble an actor whose every step and movement aredirected by a stage-manager; who says this and does that in obedience toa superior will. That is my position. Do you understand, Wilson?"

  Certainly Wilson would have understood if his faculties had not beendeadened by the profound slumber of a man whose temperature variesbetween one hundred and one hundred and three degrees. But whether heheard or not was a matter of no consequence to Herlock Sholmes, whocontinued:

  "I have to concentrate all my energy and bring all my resources intoaction in order to make the slightest progress. And, fortunately for me,those petty annoyances are like so many pricks from a needle and serveonly to stimulate me. As soon as the heat of the wound is appeased andthe shock to my vanity has subsided I say to myself: 'Amuse yourself, mydear fellow, but remember that he who laughs last laughs best. Sooner orlater you will betray yourself.' For you know, Wilson, it was Lupinhimself, who, by his first dispatch and the observation that itsuggested to little Henriette, disclosed to me the secret of hiscorrespondence with Alice Hemun. Have you forgotten that circumstance,dear boy?"

  But Wilson was asleep; and Sholmes, pacing to and fro, resumed hisspeech:

  "And, now, things are not in a bad shape; a little obscure, perhaps, butthe light is creeping in. In the first place, I must learn all aboutMonsieur Bresson. Ganimard and I will visit the bank of the river, atthe spot where Bresson threw away the package, and the particular roleof that gentleman will be known to me. After that the game will beplayed between me and Alice Demun. Rather a light-weight opponent, hein,Wilson? And do you not think that I will soon know the phraserepresented by the letters clipped from the alphabet-book, and what theisolated letters--the 'C' and the 'H'--mean? That is all I want to know,Wilson."

  Mademoiselle entered at that moment, and, observing Sholmesgesticulating, she said, in her sweetest manner:

  "Monsieur Sholmes, I must scold you if you waken my patient. It isn'tnice of you to disturb him. The doctor has ordered absolute rest."

  He looked at her in silence, astonished, as on their first meeting, ather wonderful self-possession.

  "Why do you look at me so, Monsieur Sholmes?... You seem to be trying toread my thoughts.... No?... Then what is it?"

  She questioned him with the most innocent expression on her pretty faceand in her frank blue eyes. A smile played upon her lips; and shedisplayed so much unaffected candor that the Englishman almost lost histemper. He approached her and said, in a low voice:

  "Bresson killed himself last night."

  She affected not to understand him; so he repeated:

  "Bresson killed himself yesterday...."

  She did not show the slightest emotion; she acted as if the matter didnot concern or interest her in any way.

  "You have been informed," said Sholmes, displaying his annoyance."Otherwise, the news would have caused you to start, at least. Ah! youare stronger than I expected. But what's the use of your trying toconceal anything from me?"

  He picked up the alphabet-book, which he had placed on a convenienttable, and, opening it at the mutilated page, said:

  "Will you tell me the order in which the missing letters should bearranged in order to express the exact wording of the message you sentto Bresson four days before the theft of the Jewish lamp?"

  "The order?... Bresson?... the theft of the Jewish lamp?"

  She repeated the words slowly, as if trying to grasp their meaning. Hecontinued:

  "Yes. Here are the letters employed ... on this bit of paper.... Whatdid you say to Bresson?"

  "The letters employed ... what did I say...."

  Suddenly she burst into laughter:

  "Ah! that is it! I understand! I am an accomplice in the crime! There isa Monsieur Bresson who stole the Jewish lamp and who has now committedsuicide. And I am the friend of that gentleman. Oh! how absurd you are!"

  "Whom did you go to see last night on the second floor of a house in theavenue des Ternes?"

  "Who? My modiste, Mademoiselle Langeais. Do you suppose that my modisteand my friend Monsieur Bresson are the same person?"

  Despite all he knew, Sholmes was now in doubt. A person can feignterror, joy, anxiety, in fact all emotions; but a person cannot feignabsolute indifference or light, careless laughter. Yet he continued toquestion her:

  "Why did you accost me the other evening at the Northern Railwaystation? And why did you entreat me to leave Paris immediately withoutinvestigating this theft?"

  "Ah! you are too inquisitive, Monsieur Sholmes," she replied, stilllaughing in the most natural manner. "To punish you I will tell younothing, and, besides, you must watch the patient while I go to thepharmacy on an urgent message. Au revoir."

  She left the room.

  "I am beaten ... by a girl," muttered Sholmes. "Not only did I getnothing out of her but I exposed my hand and put her on her guard."

  And he recalled the affair of the blue diamond and his first interviewwith Clotilde Destange. Had not the blonde Lady met his question withthe same unruffled serenity, and was he not once more face to face withone of those creatures who, under the protection and influence of ArseneLupin, maintain the utmost coolness in the face of a terrible danger?

  "Sholmes ... Sholmes...."

  It was Wilson who called him. Sholmes approached the bed, and, leaningover, said:

  "What's the matter, Wilson? Does your wound pain you?"

  Wilson's lips moved, but he could not speak. At last, with a greateffort, he stammered:

  "No ... Sholmes ... it is not she ... that is impossible----"

  "Come, Wilson, what do you know about it? I tell you that it is she! Itis only when I meet one of Lupin's creatures, prepared and instructed byhim, that I lose my head and make a fool of myself.... I bet you thatwithin an hour Lupin will know all about our interview. Within an hour?What am I saying?... Why, he may know already. The visit to the pharmacy... urgent message. All nonsense!... She has gone to telephone toLupin."

  Sholmes left the house hurriedly, went down the avenue de Messine, andwas just in time to see Mademoiselle enter a pharmacy. Ten minutes latershe emerged from the shop carrying some small packages and a bottlewrapped in white paper. But she had not proceeded far, when she wasaccosted by a man who, with hat in hand and an obsequious air, appearedto be asking for charity. She stopped, gave him something, and proceededon her way.

  "She spoke to him," said the Englishman to himself.

  If not a certainty, it was at least an intuition, and quite sufficientto cause him to change his tactics. Leaving the girl to pu
rsue her owncourse, he followed the suspected mendicant, who walked slowly to theavenue des Ternes and lingered for a long time around the house inwhich Bresson had lived, sometimes raising his eyes to the windows ofthe second floor and watching the people who entered the house.

  At the end of an hour he climbed to the top of a tramcar going in thedirection of Neuilly. Sholmes followed and took a seat behind the man,and beside a gentleman who was concealed behind the pages of anewspaper. At the fortifications the gentleman lowered the paper, andSholmes recognized Ganimard, who thereupon whispered, as he pointed tothe man in front:

  "It is the man who followed Bresson last night. He has been watching thehouse for an hour."

  "Anything new in regard to Bresson?" asked Sholmes.

  "Yes, a letter came to his address this morning."

  "This morning? Then it was posted yesterday before the sender could knowof Bresson's death."

  "Exactly. It is now in the possession of the examining magistrate. But Iread it. It says: _He will not accept any compromise. He wantseverything--the first thing as well as those of the second affair.Otherwise he will proceed._"

  "There is no signature," added Ganimard. "It seems to me those few lineswon't help us much."

  "I don't agree with you, Monsieur Ganimard. To me those few lines arevery interesting."

  "Why so? I can't see it."

  "For reasons that are personal to me," replied Sholmes, with theindifference that he frequently displayed toward his colleague.

  The tramcar stopped at the rue de Chateau, which was the terminus. Theman descended and walked away quietly. Sholmes followed at so short adistance that Ganimard protested, saying:

  "If he should turn around he will suspect us."

  "He will not turn around."

  "How do you know?"

  "He is an accomplice of Arsene Lupin, and the fact that he walks in thatmanner, with his hands in his pockets, proves, in the first place, thathe knows he is being followed and, in the second place, that he is notafraid."

  "But I think we are keeping too close to him."

  "Not too close to prevent his slipping through our fingers. He is toosure of himself."

  "Ah! Look there! In front of that cafe there are two of the bicyclepolice. If I summon them to our assistance, how can the man slip throughour fingers?"

  "Well, our friend doesn't seem to be worried about it. In fact, he isasking for their assistance himself."

  "Mon Dieu!" exclaimed Ganimard, "he has a nerve."

  The man approached the two policemen just as they were mounting theirbicycles. After a few words with them he leaped on a third bicycle,which was leaning against the wall of the cafe, and rode away at a fastpace, accompanied by the two policemen.

  "Hein! one, two, three and away!" growled Sholmes. "And through, whoseagency, Monsieur Ganimard? Two of your colleagues.... Ah! but ArseneLupin has a wonderful organization! Bicycle policemen in his service!...I told you our man was too calm, too sure of himself."

  "Well, then," said Ganimard, quite vexed, "what are we to do now? It iseasy enough to laugh! Anyone can do that."

  "Come, come, don't lose your temper! We will get our revenge. But, inthe meantime, we need reinforcements."

  "Folenfant is waiting for me at the end of the avenue de Neuilly."

  "Well, go and get him and join me later. I will follow our fugitive."

  Sholmes followed the bicycle tracks, which were plainly visible in thedust of the road as two of the machines were furnished with striatedtires. Very soon he ascertained that the tracks were leading him to theedge of the Seine, and that the three men had turned in the directiontaken by Bresson on the preceding evening. Thus he arrived at thegateway where he and Ganimard had concealed themselves, and, a littlefarther on, he discovered a mingling of the bicycle tracks which showedthat the men had halted at that spot. Directly opposite there was alittle point of land which projected into the river and, at theextremity thereof, an old boat was moored.

  It was there that Bresson had thrown away the package, or, rather, haddropped it. Sholmes descended the bank and saw that the declivity wasnot steep and the water quite shallow, so it would be quite easy torecover the package, provided the three men had not forestalled him.

  "No, that can't be," he thought, "they have not had time. A quarter ofan hour at the most. And yet, why did they come this way?"

  A fisherman was seated on the old boat. Sholmes asked him:

  "Did you see three men on bicycles a few minutes ago?"

  The fisherman made a negative gesture. But Sholmes insisted:

  "Three men who stopped on the road just on top of the bank?"

  The fisherman rested his pole under his arm, took a memorandum book fromhis pocket, wrote on one of the pages, tore it out, and handed it toSholmes. The Englishman gave a start of surprise. In the middle of thepaper which he held in his hand he saw the series of letters cut fromthe alphabet-book:

  CDEHNOPRZEO--237.

  The man resumed his fishing, sheltered from the sun by a large strawhat, with his coat and vest lying beside him. He was intently watchingthe cork attached to his line as it floated on the surface of the water.

  There was a moment of silence--solemn and terrible.

  "Is it he?" conjectured Sholmes, with an anxiety that was almostpitiful. Then the truth burst upon him:

  "It is he! It is he! No one else could remain there so calmly, withoutthe slightest display of anxiety, without the least fear of what mighthappen. And who else would know the story of those mysterious letters?Alice had warned him by means of her messenger."

  Suddenly the Englishman felt that his hand--that his own hand hadinvoluntarily seized the handle of his revolver, and that his eyes werefixed on the man's back, a little below the neck. One movement, and thedrama would be finished; the life of the strange adventurer would cometo a miserable end.

  The fisherman did not stir.

  Sholmes nervously toyed with his revolver, and experienced a wild desireto fire it and end everything; but the horror of such an act wasrepugnant to his nature. Death would be certain and would end all.

  "Ah!" he thought, "let him get up and defend himself. If he doesn't, somuch the worse for him. One second more ... and I fire...."

  But a sound of footsteps behind him caused him to turn his head. It wasGanimard coming with some assistants.

  Then, quickly changing his plans, Sholmes leaped into the boat, whichwas broken from its moorings by his sudden action; he pounced upon theman and seized him around the body. They rolled to the bottom of theboat together.

  "Well, now!" exclaimed Lupin, struggling to free himself, "what doesthis mean? When one of us has conquered the other, what good will it do?You will not know what to do with me, nor I with you. We will remainhere like two idiots."

  The two oars slipped into the water. The boat drifted into the stream.

  "Good Lord, what a fuss you make! A man of your age ought to knowbetter! You act like a child."

  Lupin succeeded in freeing himself from the grasp of the detective, who,thoroughly exasperated and ready to kill, put his hand in his pocket. Heuttered an oath: Lupin had taken his revolver. Then he knelt down andtried to capture one of the lost oars in order to regain the shore,while Lupin was trying to capture the other oar in order to drive theboat down the river.

  "It's gone! I can't reach it," said Lupin. "But it's of no consequence.If you get your oar I can prevent your using it. And you could do thesame to me. But, you see, that is the way in this world, we act withoutany purpose or reason, as our efforts are in vain since Fate decideseverything. Now, don't you see, Fate is on the side of his friend Lupin.The game is mine! The current favors me!"

  The boat was slowly drifting down the river.

  "Look out!" cried Lupin, quickly.

  Someone on the bank was pointing a revolver. Lupin stooped, a shot wasfired; it struck the water beyond the boat. Lupin burst into laughter.

  "God bless me! It's my friend Ganimard! But it was very wrong of
you todo that, Ganimard. You have no right to shoot except in self-defense.Does poor Lupin worry you so much that you forget yourself?... Now, begood, and don't shoot again!... If you do you will hit our Englishfriend."

  He stood behind Sholmes, facing Ganimard, and said:

  "Now, Ganimard, I am ready! Aim for his heart!... Higher!... A little tothe left.... Ah! you missed that time ... deuced bad shot.... Tryagain.... Your hand shakes, Ganimard.... Now, once more ... one, two,three, fire!... Missed!... Parbleu! the authorities furnish you withtoy-pistols."

  Lupin drew a long revolver and fired without taking aim. Ganimard puthis hand to his hat: the bullet had passed through it.

  "What do you think of that, Ganimard! Ah! that's a real revolver! Agenuine English bulldog. It belongs to my friend, Herlock Sholmes."

  And, with a laugh, he threw the revolver to the shore, where it landedat Ganimard's feet.

  Sholmes could not withhold a smile of admiration. What a torrent ofyouthful spirits! And how he seemed to enjoy himself! It appeared as ifthe sensation of peril caused him a physical pleasure; and thisextraordinary man had no other purpose in life than to seek for dangerssimply for the amusement it afforded him in avoiding them.

  Many people had now gathered on the banks of the river, and Ganimardand his men followed the boat as it slowly floated down the stream.Lupin's capture was a mathematical certainty.

  "Confess, old fellow," said Lupin, turning to the Englishman, "that youwould not exchange your present position for all the gold in theTransvaal! You are now in the first row of the orchestra chairs! But, inthe first place, we must have the prologue ... after which we can leap,at one bound, to the fifth act of the drama, which will represent thecapture or escape of Arsene Lupin. Therefore, I am going to ask you aplain question, to which I request a plain answer--a simple yes or no.Will you renounce this affair? At present I can repair the damage youhave done; later it will be beyond my power. Is it a bargain?"

  "No."

  Lupin's face showed his disappointment and annoyance. He continued:

  "I insist. More for your sake than my own, I insist, because I amcertain you will be the first to regret your intervention. For the lasttime, yes or no?"

  "No."

  Lupin stooped down, removed one of the boards in the bottom of theboat, and, for some minutes, was engaged in a work the nature of whichSholmes could not discern. Then he arose, seated himself beside theEnglishman, and said:

  "I believe, monsieur, that we came to the river to-day for the samepurpose: to recover the object which Bresson threw away. For my part Ihad invited a few friends to join me here, and I was on the point ofmaking an examination of the bed of the river when my friends announcedyour approach. I confess that the news did not surprise me, as I havebeen notified every hour concerning the progress of your investigation.That was an easy matter. Whenever anything occurred in the rue Murillothat might interest me, simply a ring on the telephone and I wasinformed."

  He stopped. The board that he had displaced in the bottom of the boatwas rising and water was working into the boat all around it.

  "The deuce! I didn't know how to fix it. I was afraid this old boatwould leak. You are not afraid, monsieur?"

  Sholmes shrugged his shoulders. Lupin continued:

  "You will understand then, in those circumstances, and knowing inadvance that you would be more eager to seek a battle than I would be toavoid it, I assure you I was not entirely displeased to enter into acontest of which the issue is quite certain, since I hold all the trumpcards in my hand. And I desired that our meeting should be given thewidest publicity in order that your defeat may be universally known, sothat another Countess de Crozon or another Baron d'Imblevalle may not betempted to solicit your aid against me. Besides, my dear monsieur--"

  He stopped again and, using his half-closed hands as a lorgnette, hescanned the banks of the river.

  "Mon Dieu! they have chartered a superb boat, a real war-vessel, and seehow they are rowing. In five minutes they will be along-side, and I amlost. Monsieur Sholmes, a word of advice; you seize me, bind me anddeliver me to the officers of the law. Does that programme pleaseyou?... Unless, in the meantime, we are shipwrecked, in which event wecan do nothing but prepare our wills. What do you think?"

  They exchanged looks. Sholmes now understood Lupin's scheme: he hadscuttled the boat. And the water was rising. It had reached the solesof their boots. Then it covered their feet; but they did not move. Itwas half-way to their knees. The Englishman took out his tobacco, rolleda cigarette, and lighted it. Lupin continued to talk:

  "But do not regard that offer as a confession of my weakness. Isurrender to you in a battle in which I can achieve a victory in orderto avoid a struggle upon a field not of my own choosing. In so doing Irecognize the fact that Sholmes is the only enemy I fear, and announcemy anxiety that Sholmes will not be diverted from my track. I take thisopportunity to tell you these things since fate has accorded me thehonor of a conversation with you. I have only one regret; it is that ourconversation should have occurred while we are taking a foot-bath ... asituation that is lacking in dignity, I must confess.... What did I say?A foot-bath? It is worse than that."

  The water had reached the board on which they were sitting, and the boatwas gradually sinking.

  Sholmes, smoking his cigarette, appeared to be calmly admiring thescenery. For nothing in the world, while face to face with that manwho, while threatened by dangers, surrounded by a crowd, followed by aposse of police, maintained his equanimity and good humor, for nothingin the world would he, Sholmes, display the slightest sign ofnervousness.

  Each of them looked as if he might say: Should a person be disturbed bysuch trifles? Are not people drowned in a river every day? Is it such anunusual event as to deserve special attention? One chatted, whilst theother dreamed; both concealing their wounded pride beneath a mask ofindifference.

  One minute more and the boat will sink. Lupin continued his chatter:

  "The important thing to know is whether we will sink before or after thearrival of the champions of the law. That is the main question. As toour shipwreck, that is a fore-gone conclusion. Now, monsieur, the hourhas come in which we must make our wills. I give, devise and bequeathall my property to Herlock Sholmes, a citizen of England, for his ownuse and benefit. But, mon Dieu, how quickly the champions of the law areapproaching! Ah! the brave fellows! It is a pleasure to watch them.Observe the precision of the oars! Ah! is it you, Brigadier Folenfant?Bravo! The idea of a war-vessel is an excellent one. I commend you toyour superiors, Brigadier Folenfant.... Do you wish a medal? You shallhave it. And your comrade Dieuzy, where is he?... Ah! yes, I think I seehim on the left bank of the river at the head of a hundred natives. Sothat, if I escape shipwreck, I shall be captured on the left by Dieuzyand his natives, or, on the right, by Ganimard and the populace ofNeuilly. An embarrassing dilemma!"

  The boat entered an eddy; it swung around and Sholmes caught hold of theoarlocks. Lupin said to him:

  "Monsieur, you should remove your coat. You will find it easier to swimwithout a coat. No? You refuse? Then I shall put on my own."

  He donned his coat, buttoned it closely, the same as Sholmes, and said:

  "What a discourteous man you are! And what a pity that you should be sostubborn in this affair, in which, of course, you display your strength,but, oh! so vainly! really, you mar your genius----"

  "Monsieur Lupin," interrupted Sholmes, emerging from his silence, "youtalk too much, and you frequently err through excess of confidence andthrough your frivolity."

  "That is a severe reproach."

  "Thus, without knowing it, you furnished me, only a moment ago, with theinformation I required."

  "What! you required some information and you didn't tell me?"

  "I had no occasion to ask you for it--you volunteered it. Within threehours I can deliver the key of the mystery to Monsieur d'Imblevalle.That is the only reply----"

  He did not finish the sentence. The boat suddenly sank, taki
ng both ofthe men down with it. It emerged immediately, with its keel in the air.Shouts were heard on either bank, succeeded by an anxious moment ofsilence. Then the shouts were renewed: one of the shipwrecked party hadcome to the surface.

  It was Herlock Sholmes. He was an excellent swimmer, and struck out,with powerful strokes, for Folenfant's boat.

  "Courage, Monsieur Sholmes," shouted Folenfant; "we are here. Keep it up... we will get you ... a little more, Monsieur Sholmes ... catch therope."

  The Englishman seized the rope they had thrown to him. But, while theywere hauling him into the boat, he heard a voice behind him, saying:

  "The key of the mystery, monsieur, yes, you shall have it. I amastonished that you haven't got it already. What then? What good will itdo you? By that time you will have lost the battle...."

  Now comfortably installed astride the keel of the boat, Lupin continuedhis speech with solemn gestures, as if he hoped to convince hisadversary.

  "You must understand, my dear Sholmes, there is nothing to be done,absolutely nothing. You find yourself in the deplorable position of agentleman----"

  "Surrender, Lupin!" shouted Folenfant.

  "You are an ill-bred fellow, Folenfant, to interrupt me in the middle ofa sentence. I was saying----"

  "Surrender, Lupin!"

  "Oh! parbleu! Brigadier Folenfant, a man surrenders only when he is indanger. Surely, you do not pretend to say that I am in any danger."

  "For the last time, Lupin, I call on you to surrender."

  "Brigadier Folenfant, you have no intention of killing me; you may wishto wound me since you are afraid I may escape. But if by chance thewound prove mortal! Just think of your remorse! It would embitter yourold age."

  The shot was fired.

  Lupin staggered, clutched at the keel of the boat for a moment, then letgo and disappeared.

  * * * * *

  It was exactly three o'clock when the foregoing events transpired.Precisely at six o'clock, as he had foretold, Herlock Sholmes, dressedin trousers that were too short and a coat that was too small, which hehad borrowed from an innkeeper at Neuilly, wearing a cap and a flannelshirt, entered the boudoir in the Rue Murillo, after having sent word toMonsieur and Madame d'Imblevalle that he desired an interview.

  They found him walking up and down the room. And he looked so ludicrousin his strange costume that they could scarcely suppress their mirth.With pensive air and stooped shoulders, he walked like an automaton fromthe window to the door and from the door to the window, taking each timethe same number of steps, and turning each time in the same manner.

  He stopped, picked up a small ornament, examined it mechanically, andresumed his walk. At last, planting himself before them, he asked:

  "Is Mademoiselle here?"

  "Yes, she is in the garden with the children."'

  "I wish Mademoiselle to be present at this interview."

  "Is it necessary----"

  "Have a little patience, monsieur. From the facts I am going to presentto you, you will see the necessity for her presence here."

  "Very well. Suzanne, will you call her?"

  Madame d'Imblevalle arose, went out, and returned almost immediately,accompanied by Alice Demun. Mademoiselle, who was a trifle paler thanusual, remained standing, leaning against a table, and without evenasking why she had been called. Sholmes did not look at her, but,suddenly turning toward Monsieur d'Imblevalle, he said, in a tone whichdid not admit of a reply:

  "After several days' investigation, monsieur, I must repeat what I toldyou when I first came here: the Jewish lamp was stolen by some oneliving in the house."

  "The name of the guilty party?"

  "I know it."

  "Your proof?"

  "I have sufficient to establish that fact."

  "But we require more than that. We desire the restoration of the stolengoods."

  "The Jewish lamp? It is in my possession."

  "The opal necklace? The snuff-box?"

  "The opal necklace, the snuff-box, and all the goods stolen on thesecond occasion are in my possession."

  Sholmes delighted in these dramatic dialogues, and it pleased him toannounce his victories in that curt manner. The baron and his wife wereamazed, and looked at Sholmes with a silent curiosity, which was thehighest praise.

  He related to them, very minutely, what he had done during those threedays. He told of his discovery of the alphabet book, wrote upon a sheetof paper the sentence formed by the missing letters, then related thejourney of Bresson to the bank of the river and the suicide of theadventurer, and, finally, his struggle with Lupin, the shipwreck, andthe disappearance of Lupin. When he had finished, the baron said, in alow voice:

  "Now, you have told us everything except the name of the guilty party.Whom do you accuse?"

  "I accuse the person who cut the letters from the alphabet book, andcommunicated with Arsene Lupin by means of those letters."

  "How do you know that such correspondence was carried on with ArseneLupin?"

  "My information comes from Lupin himself."

  He produced a piece of paper that was wet and crumpled. It was the pagewhich Lupin had torn from his memorandum-book, and upon which he hadwritten the phrase.

  "And you will notice," said Sholmes, with satisfaction, "that he was notobliged to give me that sheet of paper, and, in that way, disclose hisidentity. Simple childishness on his part, and yet it gave me exactlythe information I desired."

  "What was it?" asked the baron. "I don't understand."

  Sholmes took a pencil and made a fresh copy of the letters and figures.

  "CDEHNOPRZEO--237."

  "Well?" said the baron; "it is the formula you showed me yourself."

  "No. If you had turned and returned that formula in every way, as I havedone, you would have seen at first glance that this formula is not likethe first one."

  "In what respect do they differ?"

  "This one has two more letters--an E and an O."

  "Really; I hadn't noticed that."

  "Join those two letters to the C and the H which remained after formingthe word 'respondez,' and you will agree with me that the only possibleword is ECHO."

  "What does that mean?"

  "It refers to the _Echo de France_, Lupin's newspaper, his officialorgan, the one in which he publishes his communications. Reply in the_Echo de France_, in the personal advertisements, under number 237. Thatis the key to the mystery, and Arsene Lupin was kind enough to furnishit to me. I went to the newspaper office."

  "What did you find there?"

  "I found the entire story of the relations between Arsene Lupin and hisaccomplice."

  Sholmes produced seven newspapers which he opened at the fourth pageand pointed to the following lines:

  1. Ars. Lup. Lady implores protection. 540.

  2. 540. Awaiting particulars. A.L.

  3. A.L. Under domin. enemy. Lost.

  4. 540. Write address. Will make investigation.

  5. A.L. Murillo.

  6. 540. Park three o'clock. Violets.

  7. 237. Understand. Sat. Will be Sun. morn. park.

  "And you call that the whole story!" exclaimed the baron.

  "Yes, and if you will listen to me for a few minutes, I think I canconvince you. In the first place, a lady who signs herself 540 imploresthe protection of Arsene Lupin, who replies by asking for particulars.The lady replies that she is under the domination of an enemy--who isBresson, no doubt--and that she is lost if some one does not come to herassistance. Lupin is suspicious and does not yet venture to appoint aninterview with the unknown woman, demands the address and proposes tomake an investigation. The lady hesitates for four days--look at thedates--finally, under stress of circumstances and influenced byBresson's threats, she gives the name of the street--Murillo. Next day,Arsene Lupin announces that he will be in the Park Monceau at threeo'clock, and asks his unknown correspondent to wear a bouquet of violetsas a means of identification. Then there is a lapse of eight
days in thecorrespondence. Arsene Lupin and the lady do not require to correspondthrough the newspaper now, as they see each other or write directly. Thescheme is arranged in this way: in order to satisfy Bresson's demands,the lady is to carry off the Jewish lamp. The date is not yet fixed. Thelady who, as a matter of prudence, corresponds by means of letters cutout of a book, decides on Saturday and adds: _Reply Echo 237_. Lupinreplies that it is understood and that he will be in the park on Sundaymorning. Sunday morning, the theft takes place."

  "Really, that is an excellent chain of circumstantial evidence and everylink is complete," said the baron.

  "The theft has taken place," continued Sholmes. "The lady goes out onSunday morning, tells Lupin what she has done, and carries the Jewishlamp to Bresson. Everything occurs then exactly as Lupin had foreseen.The officers of the law, deceived by an open window, four holes in theground and two scratches on the balcony railing, immediately advance thetheory that the theft was committed by a burglar. The lady is safe."

  "Yes, I confess the theory was a logical one," said the baron. "But thesecond theft--"

  "The second theft was provoked by the first. The newspapers havingrelated how the Jewish lamp had disappeared, some one conceived the ideaof repeating the crime and carrying away what had been left. This time,it was not a simulated theft, but a real one, a genuine burglary, withladders and other paraphernalia--"

  "Lupin, of course--"

  "No. Lupin does not act so stupidly. He doesn't fire at people fortrifling reasons."

  "Then, who was it?"

  "Bresson, no doubt, and unknown to the lady whom he had menaced. It wasBresson who entered here; it was Bresson that I pursued; it was Bressonwho wounded poor Wilson."

  "Are you sure of it?"

  "Absolutely. One of Bresson's accomplices wrote to him yesterday, beforehis suicide, a letter which proves that negotiations were pendingbetween this accomplice and Lupin for the restitution of all thearticles stolen from your house. Lupin demanded everything, '_the firstthing_ (that is, the Jewish lamp) _as well as those of the secondaffair_.' Moreover, he was watching Bresson. When the latter returnedfrom the river last night, one of Lupin's men followed him as well aswe."

  "What was Bresson doing at the river?"

  "Having been warned of the progress of my investigations----"

  "Warned! by whom?"

  "By the same lady, who justly feared that the discovery of the Jewishlamp would lead to the discovery of her own adventure. Thereupon,Bresson, having been warned, made into a package all the things thatcould compromise him and threw them into a place where he thought hecould get them again when the danger was past. It was after his return,tracked by Ganimard and myself, having, no doubt, other sins on hisconscience, that he lost his head and killed himself."

  "But what did the package contain?"

  "The Jewish lamp and your other ornaments."

  "Then, they are not in your possession?"

  "Immediately after Lupin's disappearance, I profited by the bath he hadforced upon me, went to the spot selected by Bresson, where I found thestolen articles wrapped in some soiled linen. They are there, on thetable."

  Without a word, the baron cut the cord, tore open the wet linen, pickedout the lamp, turned a screw in the foot, then divided the bowl of thelamp which opened in two equal parts and there he found the goldenchimera, set with rubies and emeralds.

  It was intact.

  * * * * *

  There was in that scene, so natural in appearance and which consisted ofa simple exposition of facts, something which rendered it frightfullytragic--it was the formal, direct, irrefutable accusation that Sholmeslaunched in each of his words against Mademoiselle. And it was also theimpressive silence of Alice Demun.

  During that long, cruel accumulation of accusing circumstances heapedone upon another, not a muscle of her face had moved, not a trace ofrevolt or fear had marred the serenity of her limpid eyes. What wereher thoughts. And, especially, what was she going to say at the solemnmoment when it would become necessary for her to speak and defendherself in order to break the chain of evidence that Herlock Sholmes hadso cleverly woven around her?

  That moment had come, but the girl was silent.

  "Speak! Speak!" cried Mon. d'Imblevalle.

  She did not speak. So he insisted:

  "One word will clear you. One word of denial, and I will believe you."

  That word, she would not utter.

  The baron paced to and fro in his excitement; then, addressing Sholmes,he said:

  "No, monsieur, I cannot believe it, I do not believe it. There areimpossible crimes! and this is opposed to all I know and to all that Ihave seen during the past year. No, I cannot believe it."

  He placed his hand on the Englishman's shoulder, and said:

  "But you yourself, monsieur, are you absolutely certain that you areright?"

  Sholmes hesitated, like a man on whom a sudden demand is made and cannotframe an immediate reply. Then he smiled, and said:

  "Only the person whom I accuse, by reason of her situation in yourhouse, could know that the Jewish lamp contained that magnificentjewel."

  "I cannot believe it," repeated the baron.

  "Ask her."

  It was, really, the very thing he would not have done, blinded by theconfidence the girl had inspired in him. But he could no longer refrainfrom doing it. He approached her and, looking into her eyes, said:

  "Was it you, mademoiselle? Was it you who took the jewel? Was it you whocorresponded with Arsene Lupin and committed the theft?"

  "It was I, monsieur," she replied.

  She did not drop her head. Her face displayed no sign of shame or fear.

  "Is it possible?" murmured Mon. d'Imblevalle. "I would never havebelieved it.... You are the last person in the world that I would havesuspected. How did you do it?"

  "I did it exactly as Monsieur Sholmes has told it. On Saturday night Icame to the boudoir, took the lamp, and, in the morning I carried it ...to that man."

  "No," said the baron; "what you pretend to have done is impossible."

  "Impossible--why?"

  "Because, in the morning I found the door of the boudoir bolted."

  She blushed, and looked at Sholmes as if seeking his counsel. Sholmeswas astonished at her embarrassment. Had she nothing to say? Did theconfessions, which had corroborated the report that he, Sholmes, hadmade concerning the theft of the Jewish lamp, merely serve to mask alie? Was she misleading them by a false confession?

  The baron continued:

  "That door was locked. I found the door exactly as I had left it thenight before. If you entered by that door, as you pretend, some one musthave opened it from the interior--that is to say, from the boudoir orfrom our chamber. Now, there was no one inside these two rooms ... therewas no one except my wife and myself."

  Sholmes bowed his head and covered his face with his hands in order toconceal his emotion. A sudden light had entered his mind, that startledhim and made him exceedingly uncomfortable. Everything was revealed tohim, like the sudden lifting of a fog from the morning landscape. He wasannoyed as well as ashamed, because his deductions were fallacious andhis entire theory was wrong.

  Alice Demun was innocent!

  Alice Demun was innocent. That proposition explained the embarrassmenthe had experienced from the beginning in directing the terribleaccusation against that young girl. Now, he saw the truth; he knew it.After a few seconds, he raised his head, and looked at Madamed'Imblevalle as naturally as he could. She was pale--with that unusualpallor which invades us in the relentless moments of our lives. Herhands, which she endeavored to conceal, were trembling as if strickenwith palsy.

  "One minute more," thought Sholmes, "and she will betray herself."

  He placed himself between her and her husband in the desire to avert theawful danger which, _through his fault_, now threatened that man andwoman. But, at sight of the baron, he was shocked to the very centre ofhis soul. The same dreadful
idea had entered the mind of Monsieurd'Imblevalle. The same thought was at work in the brain of the husband.He understood, also! He saw the truth!

  In desperation, Alice Demun hurled herself against the implacable truth,saying:

  "You are right, monsieur. I made a mistake. I did not enter by thisdoor. I came through the garden and the vestibule ... by aid of aladder--"

  It was a supreme effort of true devotion. But a useless effort! Thewords rang false. The voice did not carry conviction, and the poor girlno longer displayed those clear, fearless eyes and that natural air ofinnocence which had served her so well. Now, she bowed herhead--vanquished.

  The silence became painful. Madame d'Imblevalle was waiting for herhusband's next move, overwhelmed with anxiety and fear. The baronappeared to be struggling against the dreadful suspicion, as if he wouldnot submit to the overthrow of his happiness. Finally, he said to hiswife:

  "Speak! Explain!"

  "I have nothing to tell you," she replied, in a very low voice, and withfeatures drawn by anguish.

  "So, then ... Mademoiselle...."

  "Mademoiselle saved me ... through devotion ... through affection ...and accused herself...."

  "Saved you from what? From whom?"

  "From that man."

  "Bresson?"

  "Yes; it was I whom he held in fear by threats.... I met him at one ofmy friends'.... and I was foolish enough to listen to him. Oh! there wasnothing that you cannot pardon. But I wrote him two letters ... letterswhich you will see.... I had to buy them back ... you know how.... Oh!have pity on me!... I have suffered so much!"

  "You! You! Suzanne!"

  He raised his clenched fists, ready to strike her, ready to kill her.But he dropped his arms, and murmured:

  "You, Suzanne.... You!... Is it possible?"

  By short detached sentences, she related the heartrending story, herdreadful awakening to the infamy of the man, her remorse, her fear, andshe also told of Alice's devotion; how the young girl divined the sorrowof her mistress, wormed a confession out of her, wrote to Lupin, anddevised the scheme of the theft in order to save her from Bresson.

  "You, Suzanne, you," repeated Monsieur d'Imblevalle, bowed with griefand shame.... "How could you?"

  On the same evening, the steamer "City of London," which plies betweenCalais and Dover, was gliding slowly over the smooth sea. The night wasdark; the wind was fainter than a zephyr. The majority of the passengershad retired to their cabins; but a few, more intrepid, were promenadingon the deck or sleeping in large rocking-chairs, wrapped in theirtravelling-rugs. One could see, here and there, the light of a cigar,and one could hear, mingled with the soft murmur of the breeze, thefaint sound of voices which were carefully subdued to harmonize with thedeep silence of the night.

  One of the passengers, who had been pacing to and fro upon the deck,stopped before a woman who was lying on a bench, scrutinized her, and,when she moved a little, he said:

  "I thought you were asleep, Mademoiselle Alice."

  "No, Monsieur Sholmes, I am not sleepy. I was thinking."

  "Of what? If I may be so bold as to inquire?"

  "I was thinking of Madame d'Imblevalle. She must be very unhappy. Herlife is ruined."

  "Oh! no, no," he replied quickly. "Her mistake was not a serious one.Monsieur d'Imblevalle will forgive and forget it. Why, even before weleft, his manner toward her had softened."

  "Perhaps ... but he will remember it for a long time ... and she willsuffer a great deal."

  "You love her?"

  "Very much. It was my love for her that gave me strength to smile when Iwas trembling from fear, that gave me courage to look in your face whenI desired to hide from your sight."

  "And you are sorry to leave her?"

  "Yes, very sorry. I have no relatives, no friends--but her."

  "You will have friends," said the Englishman, who was affected by hersorrow. "I have promised that. I have relatives ... and some influence.I assure you that you will have no cause to regret coming to England."

  "That may be, monsieur, but Madame d'Imblevalle will not be there."

  Herlock Sholmes resumed his promenade upon the deck. After a fewminutes, he took a seat near his travelling companion, filled his pipe,and struck four matches in a vain effort to light it. Then, as he had nomore matches, he arose and said to a gentleman who was sitting near him:

  "May I trouble you for a match?"

  The gentleman opened a box of matches and struck one. The flame lightedup his face. Sholmes recognized him--it was Arsene Lupin.

  If the Englishman had not given an almost imperceptible movement ofsurprise, Lupin would have supposed that his presence on board had beenknown to Sholmes, so well did he control his feelings and so natural wasthe easy manner in which he extended his hand to his adversary.

  "How's the good health, Monsieur Lupin?"

  "Bravo!" exclaimed Lupin, who could not repress a cry of admiration atthe Englishman's sang-froid.

  "Bravo? and why?"

  "Why? Because I appear before you like a ghost, only a few hours afteryou saw me drowned in the Seine; and through pride--a quality that isessentially English--you evince not the slightest surprise. You greetme as a matter of course. Ah! I repeat: Bravo! Admirable!"

  "There is nothing remarkable about it. From the manner in which you fellfrom the boat, I knew very well that you fell voluntarily, and that thebullet had not touched you."

  "And you went away without knowing what had become of me?"

  "What had become of you? Why, I knew that. There were at least fivehundred people on the two banks of the river within a space ofhalf-a-mile. If you escaped death, your capture was certain."

  "And yet I am here."

  "Monsieur Lupin, there are two men in the world at whom I am neverastonished: in the first place, myself--and then, Arsene Lupin."

  The treaty of peace was concluded.

  If Sholmes had not been successful in his contests with Arsene Lupin; ifLupin remained the only enemy whose capture he must never hope toaccomplish; if, in the course of their struggles, he had not alwaysdisplayed a superiority, the Englishman had, none the less, by means ofhis extraordinary intuition and tenacity, succeeded in recovering theJewish lamp as well as the blue diamond.

  This time, perhaps, the finish had not been so brilliant, especiallyfrom the stand-point of the public spectators, since Sholmes was obligedto maintain a discreet silence in regard to the circumstances in whichthe Jewish lamp had been recovered, and to announce that he did not knowthe name of the thief. But as man to man, Arsene Lupin against HerlockSholmes, detective against burglar, there was neither victor norvanquished. Each of them had won corresponding victories.

  Therefore they could now converse as courteous adversaries who had laindown their arms and held each other in high regard.

  At Sholmes' request, Arsene Lupin related the strange story of hisescape.

  "If I may dignify it by calling it an escape," he said. "It was sosimple! My friends were watching for me, as I had asked them to meet methere to recover the Jewish lamp. So, after remaining a good half-hourunder the overturned boat, I took advantage of an occasion whenFolenfant and his men were searching for my dead body along the bank ofthe river, to climb on top of the boat. Then my friends simply picked meup as they passed by in their motor-boat, and we sailed away under thestaring eyes of an astonished multitude, including Ganimard andFolenfant."

  "Very good," exclaimed Sholmes, "very neatly played. And now you havesome business in England?"

  "Yes, some accounts to square up.... But I forgot ... what aboutMonsieur d'Imblevalle?"

  "He knows everything."

  "All! my dear Sholmes, what did I tell you? The wrong is nowirreparable. Would it not have been better to have allowed me to carryout the affair in my own way? In a day or two more, I should haverecovered the stolen goods from Bresson, restored them to Monsieurd'Imblevalle, and those two honest citizens would have lived together inpeace and happiness ever after. Instead of that--"<
br />
  "Instead of that," said Sholmes, sneeringly, "I have mixed the cards andsown the seeds of discord in the bosom of a family that was under yourprotection."

  "Mon Dieu! of course, I was protecting them. Must a person steal, cheatand wrong all the time?"

  "Then you do good, also?"

  "When I have the time. Besides, I find it amusing. Now, for instance,in our last adventure, I found it extremely diverting that I should bethe good genius seeking to help and save unfortunate mortals, while youwere the evil genius who dispensed only despair and tears."

  "Tears! Tears!" protested Sholmes.

  "Certainly! The d'Imblevalle household is demolished, and Alice Demunweeps."

  "She could not remain any longer. Ganimard would have discovered hersome day, and, through her, reached Madame d'Imblevalle."

  "Quite right, monsieur; but whose fault is it?"

  Two men passed by. Sholmes said to Lupin, in a friendly tone:

  "Do you know those gentlemen?"

  "I thought I recognized one of them as the captain of the steamer."

  "And the other?"

  "I don't know."

  "It is Austin Gilett, who occupies in London a position similar to thatof Monsieur Dudouis in Paris."

  "Ah! how fortunate! Will you be so kind as to introduce me? MonsieurDudouis is one of my best friends, and I shall be delighted to say asmuch of Monsieur Austin Gilett."

  The two gentlemen passed again.

  "And if I should take you at your word, Monsieur Lupin?" said Sholmes,rising, and seizing Lupin's wrist with a hand of iron.

  "Why do you grasp me so tightly, monsieur? I am quite willing to followyou."

  In fact, he allowed himself to be dragged along without the leastresistance. The two gentlemen were disappearing from sight. Sholmesquickened his pace. His finger-nails even sank into Lupin's flesh.

  "Come! Come!" he exclaimed, with a sort of feverish haste, in harmonywith his action. "Come! quicker than that."

  But he stopped suddenly. Alice Demun was following them.

  "What are you doing, Mademoiselle? You need not come. You must notcome!"

  It was Lupin who replied:

  "You will notice, monsieur, that she is not coming of her own free will.I am holding her wrist in the same tight grasp that you have on mine."

  "Why!"

  "Because I wish to present her also. Her part in the affair of theJewish lamp is much more important than mine. Accomplice of ArseneLupin, accomplice of Bresson, she has a right to tell her adventure withthe Baroness d'Imblevalle--which will deeply interest Monsieur Gilett asan officer of the law. And by introducing her also, you will havecarried your gracious intervention to the very limit, my dear Sholmes."

  The Englishman released his hold on his prisoner's wrist. Lupinliberated Mademoiselle.

  They stood looking at each other for a few seconds, silently andmotionless. Then Sholmes returned to the bench and sat down, followed byLupin and the girl. After a long silence, Lupin said: "You see,monsieur, whatever we may do, we will never be on the same side. You areon one side of the fence; I am on the other. We can exchange greetings,shake hands, converse a moment, but the fence is always there. You willremain Herlock Sholmes, detective, and I, Arsene Lupin,gentleman-burglar. And Herlock Sholmes will ever obey, more or lessspontaneously, with more or less propriety, his instinct as a detective,which is to pursue the burglar and run him down, if possible. And ArseneLupin, in obedience to his burglarious instinct, will always beoccupied in avoiding the reach of the detective, and making sport of thedetective, if he can do it. And, this time, he can do it. Ha-ha-ha!"

  He burst into a loud laugh, cunning, cruel and odious.

  Then, suddenly becoming serious, he addressed Alice Demun:

  "You may be sure, mademoiselle, even when reduced to the last extremity,I shall not betray you. Arsene Lupin never betrays anyone--especiallythose whom he loves and admires. And, may I be permitted to say, I loveand admire the brave, dear woman you have proved yourself to be."

  He took from his pocket a visiting card, tore it in two, gave one-halfof it to the girl, as he said, in a voice shaken with emotion:

  "If Monsieur Sholmes' plans for you do not succeed, mademoiselle, go toLady Strongborough--you can easily find her address--and give her thathalf of the card, and, at the same time, say to her: _Faithful friend_.Lady Strongborough will show you the true devotion of a sister."

  "Thank you," said the girl; "I shall see her to-morrow."

  "And now, Monsieur Sholmes," exclaimed Lupin, with the satisfied air ofa gentleman who has fulfilled his duty, "I will say good-night. We willnot land for an hour yet, so I will get that much rest."

  He lay down on the bench, with his hands beneath his head.

  In a short time the high cliffs of the English coast loomed up in theincreasing light of a new-born day. The passengers emerged from thecabins and crowded the deck, eagerly gazing on the approaching shore.Austin Gilette passed by, accompanied by two men whom Sholmes recognizedas sleuths from Scotland Yard.

  Lupin was asleep, on his bench.

  THE END.

  _The further startling, wonderful and thrilling adventures of "ArseneLupin" will be found in the book entitled "Arsene LupinGentleman-Burglar"._