Arsène Lupin, gentleman-cambrioleur. English Read online

  IX. SHERLOCK HOLMES ARRIVES TOO LATE

  "It is really remarkable, Velmont, what a close resemblance you bearto Arsene Lupin!"

  "How do you know?"

  "Oh! like everyone else, from photographs, no two of which arealike, but each of them leaves the impression of a face....something like yours."

  Horace Velmont displayed some vexation.

  "Quite so, my dear Devanne. And, believe me, you are not the firstone who has noticed it."

  "It is so striking," persisted Devanne, "that if you had not beenrecommended to me by my cousin d'Estevan, and if you were not thecelebrated artist whose beautiful marine views I so admire, I haveno doubt I should have warned the police of your presence inDieppe."

  This sally was greeted with an outburst of laughter. The largedining-hall of the Chateau de Thibermesnil contained on thisoccasion, besides Velmont, the following guests: Father Gelis, theparish priest, and a dozen officers whose regiments were quarteredin the vicinity and who had accepted the invitation of the bankerGeorges Devanne and his mother. One of the officers then remarked:

  "I understand that an exact description of Arsene Lupin has beenfurnished to all the police along this coast since his daringexploit on the Paris-Havre express."

  "I suppose so," said Devanne. "That was three months ago; and aweek later, I made the acquaintance of our friend Velmont at thecasino, and, since then, he has honored me with several visits--anagreeable preamble to a more serious visit that he will pay me oneof these days--or, rather, one of these nights."

  This speech evoked another round of laughter, and the guests thenpassed into the ancient "Hall of the Guards," a vast room with ahigh ceiling, which occupied the entire lower part of the TourGuillaume--William's Tower--and wherein Georges Devanne had collectedthe incomparable treasures which the lords of Thibermesnil hadaccumulated through many centuries. It contained ancient chests,credences, andirons and chandeliers. The stone walls were overhungwith magnificent tapestries. The deep embrasures of the fourwindows were furnished with benches, and the Gothic windows werecomposed of small panes of colored glass set in a leaden frame.Between the door and the window to the left stood an immensebookcase of Renaissance style, on the pediment of which, in lettersof gold, was the world "Thibermesnil," and, below it, the proudfamily device: "Fais ce que veulx" (Do what thou wishest). Whenthe guests had lighted their cigars, Devanne resumed theconversation.

  "And remember, Velmont, you have no time to lose; in fact, to-nightis the last chance you will have."

  "How so?" asked the painter, who appeared to regard the affair as ajoke. Devanne was about to reply, when his mother mentioned to himto keep silent, but the excitement of the occasion and a desire tointerest his guests urged him to speak.

  "Bah!" he murmured. "I can tell it now. It won't do any harm."

  The guests drew closer, and he commenced to speak with thesatisfied air of a man who has an important announcement to make.

  "To-morrow afternoon at four o'clock, Sherlock Holmes, the famousEnglish detective, for whom such a thing as mystery does not exist;Sherlock Holmes, the most remarkable solver of enigmas the worldhas ever known, that marvelous man who would seem to be thecreation of a romantic novelist--Sherlock Holmes will be my guest!"

  Immediately, Devanne was the target of numerous eager questions."Is Sherlock Holmes really coming?" "Is it so serious as that?""Is Arsene Lupin really in this neighborhood?"

  "Arsene Lupin and his band are not far away. Besides the robbery ofthe Baron Cahorn, he is credited with the thefts at Montigny,Gruchet and Crasville."

  "Has he sent you a warning, as he did to Baron Cahorn?"

  "No," replied Devanne, "he can't work the same trick twice."

  "What then?"

  "I will show you."

  He rose, and pointing to a small empty space between the twoenormous folios on one of the shelves of the bookcase, he said:

  "There used to be a book there--a book of the sixteenth centuryentitled `Chronique de Thibermesnil,' which contained the historyof the castle since its construction by Duke Rollo on the site of aformer feudal fortress. There were three engraved plates in thebook; one of which was a general view of the whole estate; another,the plan of the buildings; and the third--I call your attention toit, particularly--the third was the sketch of a subterraneanpassage, an entrance to which is outside the first line oframparts, while the other end of the passage is here, in this veryroom. Well, that book disappeared a month ago."

  "The deuce!" said Velmont, "that looks bad. But it doesn't seem tobe a sufficient reason for sending for Sherlock Holmes."

  "Certainly, that was not sufficient in itself, but another incidenthappened that gives the disappearance of the book a specialsignificance. There was another copy of this book in the NationalLibrary at Paris, and the two books differed in certain detailsrelating to the subterranean passage; for instance, each of themcontained drawings and annotations, not printed, but written in inkand more or less effaced. I knew those facts, and I knew that theexact location of the passage could be determined only by acomparison of the two books. Now, the day after my bookdisappeared, the book was called for in the National Library by areader who carried it away, and no one knows how the theft waseffected."

  The guests uttered many exclamations of surprise.

  "Certainly, the affair looks serious," said one.

  "Well, the police investigated the matter, and, as usual,discovered no clue whatever."

  "They never do, when Arsene Lupin is concerned in it."

  "Exactly; and so I decided to ask the assistance of SherlockHolmes, who replied that he was ready and anxious to enter thelists with Arsene Lupin."

  "What glory for Arsene Lupin!" said Velmont. "But if our nationalthief, as they call him, has no evil designs on your castle,Sherlock Holmes will have his trip in vain."

  "There are other things that will interest him, such as thediscovery of the subterranean passage."

  "But you told us that one end of the passage was outside theramparts and the other was in this very room!"

  "Yes, but in what part of the room? The line which represents thepassage on the charts ends here, with a small circle marked withthe letters `T.G.,' which no doubt stand for `Tour Guillaume.' Butthe tower is round, and who can tell the exact spot at which thepassage touches the tower?"

  Devanne lighted a second cigar and poured himself a glass ofBenedictine. His guests pressed him with questions and he waspleased to observe the interest that his remarks had created. Thehe continued:

  "The secret is lost. No one knows it. The legend is to the effectthat the former lords of the castle transmitted the secret fromfather to son on their deathbeds, until Geoffroy, the last of therace, was beheaded during the Revolution in his nineteenth year."

  "That is over a century ago. Surely, someone has looked for itsince that time?"

  "Yes, but they failed to find it. After I purchased the castle, Imade a diligent search for it, but without success. You mustremember that this tower is surrounded by water and connected withthe castle only by a bridge; consequently, the passage must beunderneath the old moat. The plan that was in the book in theNational Library showed a series of stairs with a total of forty-eightsteps, which indicates a depth of more than ten meters. Yousee, the mystery lies within the walls of this room, and yet Idislike to tear them down."

  "Is there nothing to show where it is?"

  "Nothing."

  "Mon. Devanne, we should turn our attention to the two quotations,"suggested Father Gelis.

  "Oh!" exclaimed Mon. Devanne, laughing, "our worthy father is fondof reading memoirs and delving into the musty archives of thecastle. Everything relating to Thibermesnil interests him greatly.But the quotations that he mentions only serve to complicate themystery. He has read somewhere that two kings of France have knownthe key to the puzzle."

  "Two kings of France! Who were they?"

  "Henry the Fourth and Louis the Sixteenth. And the legend r
unslike this: On the eve of the battle of Arques, Henry the Fourthspent the night in this castle. At eleven o'clock in the evening,Louise de Tancarville, the prettiest woman in Normandy, was broughtinto the castle through the subterranean passage by Duke Edgard,who, at the same time, informed the king of the secret passage.Afterward, the king confided the secret to his minister Sully, who,in turn, relates the story in his book, "Royales Economies d'Etat,"without making any comment upon it, but linking with it thisincomprehensible sentence: `Turn one eye on the bee that shakes,the other eye will lead to God!'"

  After a brief silence, Velmont laughed and said:

  "Certainly, it doesn't throw a dazzling light upon the subject."

  "No; but Father Gelis claims that Sully concealed the key to themystery in this strange sentence in order to keep the secret fromthe secretaries to whom he dictated his memoirs."

  "That is an ingenious theory," said Velmont.

  "Yes, and it may be nothing more; I cannot see that it throws anylight on the mysterious riddle."

  "And was it also to receive the visit of a lady that Louis theSixteenth caused the passage to be opened?"

  "I don't know," said Mon. Devanne. "All I can say is that the kingstopped here one night in 1784, and that the famous Iron Casketfound in the Louvre contained a paper bearing these words in theking's own writing: `Thibermesnil 3-4-11.'"

  Horace Velmont laughed heartily, and exclaimed:

  "At last! And now that we have the magic key, where is the man whocan fit it to the invisible lock?"

  "Laugh as much as you please, monsieur," said Father Gelis, "but Iam confident the solution is contained in those two sentences, andsome day we will find a man able to interpret them."

  "Sherlock Holmes is the man," said Mon. Devanne, "unless ArseneLupin gets ahead of him. What is your opinion, Velmont?"

  Velmont arose, placed his hand on Devanne's shoulder, and declared:

  "I think that the information furnished by your book and the bookof the National Library was deficient in a very important detailwhich you have now supplied. I thank you for it."

  "What is it?"

  "The missing key. Now that I have it, I can go to work at once,"said Velmont.

  "Of course; without losing a minute," said Devanne, smiling.

  "Not even a second!" replied Velmont. "To-night, before thearrival of Sherlock Holmes, I must plunder your castle."

  "You have no time to lose. Oh! by the way, I can drive you overthis evening."

  "To Dieppe?"

  "Yes. I am going to meet Monsieur and Madame d'Androl and a younglady of their acquaintance who are to arrive by the midnighttrain."

  Then addressing the officers, Devanne added:

  "Gentlemen, I shall expect to see all of you at breakfast to-morrow."

  The invitation was accepted. The company dispersed, and a fewmoments later Devanne and Velmont were speeding toward Dieppe in anautomobile. Devanne dropped the artist in front of the Casino, andproceeded to the railway station. At twelve o'clock his friendsalighted from the train. A half hour later the automobile was atthe entrance to the castle. At one o'clock, after a light supper,they retired. The lights were extinguished, and the castle wasenveloped in the darkness and silence of the night.

  * * * * *

  The moon appeared through a rift in the clouds, and filled thedrawing-room with its bright white light. But only for a moment.Then the moon again retired behind its ethereal draperies, anddarkness and silence reigned supreme. No sound could be heard,save the monotonous ticking of the clock. It struck two, and thencontinued its endless repetitions of the seconds. Then, threeo'clock.

  Suddenly, something clicked, like the opening and closing of asignal-disc that warns the passing train. A thin stream of lightflashed to every corner of the room, like an arrow that leavesbehind it a trail of light. It shot forth from the central flutingof a column that supported the pediment of the bookcase. It restedfor a moment on the panel opposite like a glittering circle ofburnished silver, then flashed in all directions like a guilty eyethat scrutinizes every shadow. It disappeared for a short time,but burst forth again as a whole section of the bookcase revolvedon a picot and disclosed a large opening like a vault.

  A man entered, carrying an electric lantern. He was followed by asecond man, who carried a coil of rope and various tools. Theleader inspected the room, listened a moment, and said:

  "Call the others."

  Then eight men, stout fellows with resolute faces, entered theroom, and immediately commenced to remove the furnishings. ArseneLupin passed quickly from one piece of furniture to another,examined each, and, according to its size or artistic value, hedirected his men to take it or leave it. If ordered to be taken,it was carried to the gaping mouth of the tunnel, and ruthlesslythrust into the bowels of the earth. Such was the fate of sixarmchairs, six small Louis XV chairs, a quantity of Aubussontapestries, some candelabra, paintings by Fragonard and Nattier, abust by Houdon, and some statuettes. Sometimes, Lupin would lingerbefore a beautiful chest or a superb picture, and sigh:

  "That is too heavy....too large....what a pity!"

  In forty minutes the room was dismantled; and it had beenaccomplished in such an orderly manner and with as little noise asif the various articles had been packed and wadded for theoccasion.

  Lupin said to the last man who departed by way of the tunnel:

  "You need not come back. You understand, that as soon as the auto-vanis loaded, you are to proceed to the grange at Roquefort."

  "But you, patron?"

  "Leave me the motor-cycle."

  When the man had disappeared, Arsene Lupin pushed the section ofthe bookcase back into its place, carefully effaced the traces ofthe men's footsteps, raised a portiere, and entered a gallery,which was the only means of communication between the tower and thecastle. In the center of this gallery there was a glass cabinetwhich had attracted Lupin's attentions. It contained a valuablecollection of watches, snuff-boxes, rings, chatelaines andminiatures of rare and beautiful workmanship. He forced the lockwith a small jimmy, and experienced a great pleasure in handlingthose gold and silver ornaments, those exquisite and delicate worksof art.

  He carried a large linen bag, specially prepared for the removal ofsuch knick-knacks. He filled it. Then he filled the pockets ofhis coat, waistcoat and trousers. And he was just placing over hisleft arm a number of pearl reticules when he heard a slight sound.He listened. No, he was not deceived. The noise continued. Thenhe remembered that, at one end of the gallery, there was a stairwayleading to an unoccupied apartment, but which was probably occupiedthat night by the young lady whom Mon. Devanne had brought fromDieppe with his other visitors.

  Immediately he extinguished his lantern, and had scarcely gainedthe friendly shelter of a window-embrasure, when the door at thetop of the stairway was opened and a feeble light illuminated thegallery. He could feel--for, concealed by a curtain, he could notsee--that a woman was cautiously descending the upper steps of thestairs. He hoped she would come no closer. Yet, she continued todescend, and even advanced some distance into the room. Then sheuttered a faint cry. No doubt she had discovered the broken anddismantled cabinet.

  She advanced again. Now he could smell the perfume, and hear thethrobbing of her heart as she drew closer to the window where hewas concealed. She passed so close that her skirt brushed againstthe window-curtain, and Lupin felt that she suspected the presenceof another, behind her, in the shadow, within reach of her hand.He thought: "She is afraid. She will go away." But she did notgo. The candle, that she carried in her trembling hand, grewbrighter. She turned, hesitated a moment, appeared to listen, thensuddenly drew aside the curtain.

  They stood face to face. Arsene was astounded. He murmured,involuntarily:

  "You--you--mademoiselle."

  It was Miss Nelly. Miss Nelly! his fellow passenger on thetransatlantic steamer, who had been the subject of his dreams onthat memorable voyage, who had been a wit
ness to his arrest, andwho, rather than betray him, had dropped into the water the kodakin which he had concealed the bank-notes and diamonds. Miss Nelly!that charming creature, the memory of whose face had sometimessheered, sometimes saddened the long hours of imprisonment.

  It was such an unexpected encounter that brought them face to facein that castle at that hour of the night, that they could not move,nor utter a word; they were amazed, hypnotized, each at the suddenapparition of the other. Trembling with emotion, Miss Nellystaggered to a seat. He remained standing in front of her.

  Gradually, he realized the situation and conceived the impressionhe must have produced at that moment with his arms laden withknick-knacks, and his pockets and a linen sack overflowing withplunder. He was overcome with confusion, and he actually blushedto find himself in the position of a thief caught in the act. Toher, henceforth, he was a thief, a man who puts his hand inanother's pocket, who steals into houses and robs people while theysleep.

  A watch fell upon the floor; then another. These were followed byother articles which slipped from his grasp one by one. Then,actuated by a sudden decision, he dropped the other articles intoan armchair, emptied his pockets and unpacked his sack. He feltvery uncomfortable in Nelly's presence, and stepped toward her withthe intention of speaking to her, but she shuddered, rose quicklyand fled toward the salon. The portiere closed behind her. Hefollowed her. She was standing trembling and amazed at the sightof the devastated room. He said to her, at once:

  "To-morrow, at three o'clock, everything will be returned. Thefurniture will be brought back."

  She made no reply, so he repeated:

  "I promise it. To-morrow, at three o'clock. Nothing in the worldcould induce me to break that promise....To-morrow, at threeo'clock."

  Then followed a long silence that he dared not break, whilst theagitation of the young girl caused him a feeling of genuine regret.Quietly, without a word, he turned away, thinking: "I hope she willgo away. I can't endure her presence." But the young girlsuddenly spoke, and stammered:

  "Listen....footsteps....I hear someone...."

  He looked at her with astonishment. She seemed to be overwhelmedby the thought of approaching peril.

  "I don't hear anything," he said.

  "But you must go--you must escape!"

  "Why should I go?"

  "Because--you must. Oh! do not remain here another minute. Go!"

  She ran, quickly, to the door leading to the gallery and listened.No, there was no one there. Perhaps the noise was outside. Shewaited a moment, then returned reassured.

  But Arsene Lupin had disappeared.

  * * * * *

  As soon as Mon. Devanne was informed of the pillage of his castle,he said to himself: It was Velmont who did it, and Velmont isArsene Lupin. That theory explained everything, and there was noother plausible explanation. And yet the idea seemed preposterous.It was ridiculous to suppose that Velmont was anyone else thanVelmont, the famous artist, and club-fellow of his cousind'Estevan. So, when the captain of the gendarmes arrived toinvestigate the affair, Devanne did not even think of mentioninghis absurd theory.

  Throughout the forenoon there was a lively commotion at the castle.The gendarmes, the local police, the chief of police from Dieppe,the villagers, all circulated to and fro in the halls, examiningevery nook and corner that was open to their inspection. Theapproach of the maneuvering troops, the rattling fire of themusketry, added to the picturesque character of the scene.

  The preliminary search furnished no clue. Neither the doors norwindows showed any signs of having been disturbed. Consequently,the removal of the goods must have been effected by means of thesecret passage. Yet, there were no indications of footsteps on thefloor, nor any unusual marks upon the walls.

  Their investigations revealed, however, one curious fact thatdenoted the whimsical character of Arsene Lupin: the famousChronique of the sixteenth century had been restored to itsaccustomed place in the library and, beside it, there was a similarbook, which was none other than the volume stolen from the NationalLibrary.

  At eleven o'clock the military officers arrived. Devanne welcomedthem with his usual gayety; for, no matter how much chagrin hemight suffer from the loss of his artistic treasures, his greatwealth enabled him to bear his loss philosophically. His guests,Monsieur and Madame d'Androl and Miss Nelly, were introduced; andit was then noticed that one of the expected guests had notarrived. It was Horace Velmont. Would he come? His absence hadawakened the suspicions of Mon. Devanne. But at twelve o'clock hearrived. Devanne exclaimed:

  "Ah! here you are!"

  "Why, am I not punctual?" asked Velmont.

  "Yes, and I am surprised that you are....after such a busy night!I suppose you know the news?"

  "What news?"

  "You have robbed the castle."

  "Nonsense!" exclaimed Velmont, smiling.

  "Exactly as I predicted. But, first escort Miss Underdown to thedining-room. Mademoiselle, allow me--"

  He stopped, as he remarked the extreme agitation of the young girl.Then, recalling the incident, he said:

  "Ah! of course, you met Arsene Lupin on the steamer, before hisarrest, and you are astonished at the resemblance. Is that it?"

  She did not reply. Velmont stood before her, smiling. He bowed.She took his proffered arm. He escorted her to her place, and tookhis seat opposite her. During the breakfast, the conversationrelated exclusively to Arsene Lupin, the stolen goods, the secretpassage, and Sherlock Holmes. It was only at the close of therepast, when the conversation had drifted to other subjects, thatVelmont took any part in it. Then he was, by turns, amusing andgrave, talkative and pensive. And all his remarks seemed to bedirected to the young girl. But she, quite absorbed, did notappear to hear them.

  Coffee was served on the terrace overlooking the court of honor andthe flower garden in front of the principal facade. The regimentalband played on the lawn, and scores of soldiers and peasantswandered through the park.

  Miss Nelly had not forgotten, for one moment, Lupin's solemnpromise: "To-morrow, at three o'clock, everything will bereturned."

  At three o'clock! And the hands of the great clock in the rightwing of the castle now marked twenty minutes to three. In spite ofherself, her eyes wandered to the clock every minute. She alsowatched Velmont, who was calmly swinging to and fro in acomfortable rocking chair.

  Ten minutes to three!....Five minutes to three!....Nelly wasimpatient and anxious. Was it possible that Arsene Lupin wouldcarry out his promise at the appointed hour, when the castle, thecourtyard, and the park were filled with people, and at the verymoment when the officers of the law were pursuing theirinvestigations? And yet....Arsene Lupin had given her his solemnpromise. "It will be exactly as he said," thought she, so deeplywas she impressed with the authority, energy and assurance of thatremarkable man. To her, it no longer assumed the form of amiracle, but, on the contrary, a natural incident that must occurin the ordinary course of events. She blushed, and turned herhead.

  Three o'clock! The great clock struck slowly:one....two....three....Horace Velmont took out his watch, glancedat the clock, then returned the watch to his pocket. A few secondspassed in silence; and then the crowd in the courtyard parted togive passage to two wagons, that had just entered the park-gate,each drawn by two horses. They were army-wagons, such as are usedfor the transportation of provisions, tents, and other necessarymilitary stores. They stopped in front of the main entrance, and acommissary-sergeant leaped from one of the wagons and inquired forMon. Devanne. A moment later, that gentleman emerged from thehouse, descended the steps, and, under the canvas covers of thewagons, beheld his furniture, pictures and ornaments carefullypackaged and arranged.

  When questioned, the sergeant produced an order that he hadreceived from the officer of the day. By that order, the secondcompany of the fourth battalion were commanded to proceed to thecrossroads of Halleux in the forest of Arques, gather up thefurniture and
other articles deposited there, and deliver same toMonsieur Georges Devanne, owner of the Thibermesnil castle, atthree o'clock. Signed: Col. Beauvel.

  "At the crossroads," explained the sergeant, "we found everythingready, lying on the grass, guarded by some passers-by. It seemedvery strange, but the order was imperative."

  One of the officers examined the signature. He declared it aforgery; but a clever imitation. The wagons were unloaded, and thegoods restored to their proper places in the castle.

  During this commotion, Nelly had remained alone at the extreme endof the terrace, absorbed by confused and distracted thoughts.Suddenly, she observed Velmont approaching her. She would haveavoided him, but the balustrade that surrounded the terrace cut offher retreat. She was cornered. She could not move. A gleam ofsunshine, passing through the scant foliage of a bamboo, lighted upher beautiful golden hair. Some one spoke to her in a low voice:

  "Have I not kept my promise?"

  Arsene Lupin stood close to her. No one else was near. Herepeated, in a calm, soft voice:

  "Have I not kept my promise?"

  He expected a word of thanks, or at least some slight movement thatwould betray her interest in the fulfillment of his promise. Butshe remained silent.

  Her scornful attitude annoyed Arsene Lupin; and he realized thevast distance that separated him from Miss Nelly, now that she hadlearned the truth. He would gladly have justified himself in hereyes, or at least pleaded extenuating circumstances, but heperceived the absurdity and futility of such an attempt. Finally,dominated by a surging flood of memories, he murmured:

  "Ah! how long ago that was! You remember the long hours on thedeck of the `Provence.' Then, you carried a rose in your hand, awhite rose like the one you carry to-day. I asked you for it. Youpretended you did not hear me. After you had gone away, I foundthe rose--forgotten, no doubt--and I kept it."

  She made no reply. She seemed to be far away. He continued:

  "In memory of those happy hours, forget what you have learnedsince. Separate the past from the present. Do not regard me asthe man you saw last night, but look at me, if only for a moment,as you did in those far-off days when I was Bernard d'Andrezy, fora short time. Will you, please?"

  She raised her eyes and looked at him as he had requested. Then,without saying a word, she pointed to a ring he was wearing on hisforefinger. Only the ring was visible; but the setting, which wasturned toward the palm of his hand, consisted of a magnificentruby. Arsene Lupin blushed. The ring belonged to Georges Devanne.He smiled bitterly, and said:

  "You are right. Nothing can be changed. Arsene Lupin is now andalways will be Arsene Lupin. To you, he cannot be even so much asa memory. Pardon me....I should have known that any attention Imay now offer you is simply an insult. Forgive me."

  He stepped aside, hat in hand. Nelly passed before him. He wasinclined to detain her and beseech her forgiveness. But hiscourage failed, and he contented himself by following her with hiseyes, as he had done when she descended the gangway to the pier atNew York. She mounted the steps leading to the door, anddisappeared within the house. He saw her no more.

  A cloud obscured the sun. Arsene Lupin stood watching the imprintsof her tiny feet in the sand. Suddenly, he gave a start. Upon thebox which contained the bamboo, beside which Nelly had beenstanding, he saw the rose, the white rose which he had desired butdared not ask for. Forgotten, no doubt--it, also! But how--designedlyor through distraction? He seized it eagerly. Some ofits petals fell to the ground. He picked them up, one by one, likeprecious relics.

  "Come!" he said to himself, "I have nothing more to do here. Imust think of my safety, before Sherlock Holmes arrives."

  * * * * *

  The park was deserted, but some gendarmes were stationed at thepark-gate. He entered a grove of pine trees, leaped over the wall,and, as a short cut to the railroad station, followed a path acrossthe fields. After walking about ten minutes, he arrived at a spotwhere the road grew narrower and ran between two steep banks. Inthis ravine, he met a man traveling in the opposite direction. Itwas a man about fifty years of age, tall, smooth-shaven, andwearing clothes of a foreign cut. He carried a heavy cane, and asmall satchel was strapped across his shoulder. When they met, thestranger spoke, with a slight English accent:

  "Excuse me, monsieur, is this the way to the castle?"

  "Yes, monsieur, straight ahead, and turn to the left when you cometo the wall. They are expecting you."

  "Ah!"

  "Yes, my friend Devanne told us last night that you were coming,and I am delighted to be the first to welcome you. Sherlock Holmeshas no more ardent admirer than....myself."

  There was a touch of irony in his voice that he quickly regretted,for Sherlock Holmes scrutinized him from head to foot with such akeen, penetrating eye that Arsene Lupin experienced the sensationof being seized, imprisoned and registered by that look morethoroughly and precisely than he had ever been by a camera.

  "My negative is taken now," he thought, "and it will be useless touse a disguise with that man. He would look right through it.But, I wonder, has he recognized me?"

  They bowed to each other as if about to part. But, at that moment,they heard a sound of horses' feet, accompanied by a clinking ofsteel. It was the gendarmes. The two men were obliged to drawback against the embankment, amongst the brushes, to avoid thehorses. The gendarmes passed by, but, as they followed each otherat a considerable distance, they were several minutes in doing so.And Lupin was thinking:

  "It all depends on that question: has he recognized me? If so, hewill probably take advantage of the opportunity. It is a tryingsituation."

  When the last horseman had passed, Sherlock Holmes stepped forthand brushed the dust from his clothes. Then, for a moment, he andArsene Lupin gazed at each other; and, if a person could have seenthem at that moment, it would have been an interesting sight, andmemorable as the first meeting of two remarkable men, so strange,so powerfully equipped, both of superior quality, and destined byfate, through their peculiar attributes, to hurl themselves one atthe other like two equal forces that nature opposes, one againstthe other, in the realms of space.

  Then the Englishman said: "Thank you, monsieur."

  They parted. Lupin went toward the railway station, and SherlockHolmes continued on his way to the castle.

  The local officers had given up the investigation after severalhours of fruitless efforts, and the people at the castle wereawaiting the arrival of the English detective with a livelycuriosity. At first sight, they were a little disappointed onaccount of his commonplace appearance, which differed so greatlyfrom the pictures they had formed of him in their own minds. Hedid not in any way resemble the romantic hero, the mysterious anddiabolical personage that the name of Sherlock Holmes had evoked intheir imaginations. However, Mon. Devanne exclaimed with muchgusto:

  "Ah! monsieur, you are here! I am delighted to see you. It is along-deferred pleasure. Really, I scarcely regret what hashappened, since it affords me the opportunity to meet you. But,how did you come?"

  "By the train."

  "But I sent my automobile to meet you at the station."

  "An official reception, eh? with music and fireworks! Oh! no, notfor me. That is not the way I do business," grumbled theEnglishman.

  This speech disconcerted Devanne, who replied, with a forced smile:

  "Fortunately, the business has been greatly simplified since Iwrote to you."

  "In what way?"

  "The robbery took place last night."

  "If you had not announced my intended visit, it is probable therobbery would not have been committed last night."

  "When, then?"

  "To-morrow, or some other day."

  "And in that case?"

  "Lupin would have been trapped," said the detective.

  "And my furniture?"

  "Would not have been carried away."

  "Ah! but my goods are here. They were brought back a
t threeo'clock."

  "By Lupin."

  "By two army-wagons."

  Sherlock Holmes put on his cap and adjusted his satchel. Devanneexclaimed, anxiously:

  "But, monsieur, what are you going to do?"

  "I am going home."

  "Why?"

  "Your goods have been returned; Arsene Lupin is far away--there isnothing for me to do."

  "Yes, there is. I need your assistance. What happened yesterday,may happen again to-morrow, as we do not know how he entered, orhow he escaped, or why, a few hours later, he returned the goods."

  "Ah! you don't know--"

  The idea of a problem to be solved quickened the interest ofSherlock Holmes.

  "Very well, let us make a search--at once--and alone, if possible."

  Devanne understood, and conducted the Englishman to the salon. Ina dry, crisp voice, in sentences that seemed to have been preparedin advance, Holmes asked a number of questions about the events ofthe preceding evening, and enquired also concerning the guests andthe members of the household. Then he examined the two volumes ofthe "Chronique," compared the plans of the subterranean passage,requested a repetition of the sentences discovered by Father Gelis,and then asked:

  "Was yesterday the first time you have spoken hose two sentences toany one?"

  "Yes."

  "You had never communicated then to Horace Velmont?"

  "No."

  "Well, order the automobile. I must leave in an hour."

  "In an hour?"

  "Yes; within that time, Arsene Lupin solved the problem that youplaced before him."

  "I....placed before him--"

  "Yes, Arsene Lupin or Horace Velmont--same thing."

  "I thought so. Ah! the scoundrel!"

  "Now, let us see," said Holmes, "last night at ten o'clock, youfurnished Lupin with the information that he lacked, and that hehad been seeking for many weeks. During the night, he found timeto solve the problem, collect his men, and rob the castle. I shallbe quite as expeditious."

  He walked from end to end of the room, in deep thought, then satdown, crossed his long legs and closed his eyes.

  Devanne waited, quite embarrassed. Thought he: "Is the man asleep?Or is he only meditating?" However, he left the room to give someorders, and when he returned he found the detective on his kneesscrutinizing the carpet at the foot of the stairs in the gallery.

  "What is it?" he enquired.

  "Look....there....spots from a candle."

  "You are right--and quite fresh."

  "And you will also find them at the top of the stairs, and aroundthe cabinet that Arsene Lupin broke into, and from which he tookthe bibelots that he afterward placed in this armchair."

  "What do you conclude from that?"

  "Nothing. These facts would doubtless explain the cause for therestitution, but that is a side issue that I cannot wait toinvestigate. The main question is the secret passage. First, tellme, is there a chapel some two or three hundred metres from thecastle?"

  "Yes, a ruined chapel, containing the tomb of Duke Rollo."

  "Tell your chauffer to wait for us near that chapel."

  "My chauffer hasn't returned. If he had, they would have informedme. Do you think the secret passage runs to the chapel? Whatreason have--"

  "I would ask you, monsieur," interrupted the detective, "to furnishme with a ladder and a lantern."

  "What! do you require a ladder and a lantern?"

  "Certainly, or I shouldn't have asked for them."

  Devanne, somewhat disconcerted by this crude logic, rang the bell.The two articles were given with the sternness and precision ofmilitary commands.

  "Place the ladder against the bookcase, to the left of the wordThibermesnil."

  Devanne placed the ladder as directed, and the Englishmancontinued:

  "More to the left....to the right....There!....Now, climb up....All the letters are in relief, aren't they?"

  "Yes."

  "First, turn the letter I one way or the other."

  "Which one? There are two of them."

  "The first one."

  Devanne took hold of the letter, and exclaimed:

  "Ah! yes, it turns toward the right. Who told you that?"

  Sherlock Holmes did not reply to the question, but continued hisdirections:

  "Now, take the letter B. Move it back and forth as you would abolt."

  Devanne did so, and, to his great surprise, it produced a clickingsound.

  "Quite right," said Holmes. "Now, we will go to the other end ofthe word Thibermesnil, try the letter I, and see if it will openlike a wicket."

  With a certain degree of solemnity, Devanne seized the letter. Itopened, but Devanne fell from the ladder, for the entire section ofthe bookcase, lying between the first and last letters of thewords, turned on a picot and disclosed the subterranean passage.

  Sherlock Holmes said, coolly:

  "You are not hurt?"

  "No, no," said Devanne, as he rose to his feet, "not hurt, onlybewildered. I can't understand now....those letters turn....thesecret passage opens...."

  "Certainly. Doesn't that agree exactly with the formula given bySully? Turn one eye on the bee that shakes, the other eye willlead to God."

  "But Louis the sixteenth?" asked Devanne.

  "Louis the sixteenth was a clever locksmith. I have read a book hewrote about combination locks. It was a good idea on the part ofthe owner of Thibermesnil to show His Majesty a clever bit ofmechanism. As an aid to his memory, the king wrote: 3-4-11, thatis to say, the third, fourth and eleventh letters of the word."

  "Exactly. I understand that. It explains how Lupin got out of theroom, but it does not explain how he entered. And it is certain hecame from the outside."

  Sherlock Holmes lighted his lantern, and stepped into the passage.

  "Look! All the mechanism is exposed here, like the works of aclock, and the reverse side of the letters can be reached. Lupinworked the combination from this side--that is all."

  "What proof is there of that?"

  "Proof? Why, look at that puddle of oil. Lupin foresaw that thewheels would require oiling."

  "Did he know about the other entrance?"

  "As well as I know it," said Holmes. "Follow me."

  "Into that dark passage?"

  "Are you afraid?"

  "No, but are you sure you can find the way out?"

  "With my eyes closed."

  At first, they descended twelve steps, then twelve more, and,farther on, two other flights of twelve steps each. Then theywalked through a long passageway, the brick walls of which showedthe marks of successive restorations, and, in spots, were drippingwith water. The earth, also, was very damp.

  "We are passing under the pond," said Devanne, somewhat nervously.

  At last, they came to a stairway of twelve steps, followed by threeothers of twelve steps each, which they mounted with difficulty,and then found themselves in a small cavity cut in the rock. Theycould go no further.

  "The deuce!" muttered Holmes, "nothing but bare walls. This isprovoking."

  "Let us go back," said Devanne. "I have seen enough to satisfyme."

  But the Englishman raised his eye and uttered a sigh of relief.There, he saw the same mechanism and the same word as before. Hehad merely to work the three letters. He did so, and a block ofgranite swung out of place. On the other side, this granite blockformed the tombstone of Duke Rollo, and the word "Thibermesnil" wasengraved on it in relief. Now, they were in the little ruinedchapel, and the detective said:

  "The other eye leads to God; that means, to the chapel."

  "It is marvelous!" exclaimed Devanne, amazed at the clairvoyanceand vivacity of the Englishman. "Can it be possible that those fewwords were sufficient for you?"

  "Bah!" declared Holmes, "they weren't even necessary. In the chartin the book of the National Library, the drawing terminates at theleft, as you know, in a circle, and at the right, as you do notknow, in a cross. No
w, that cross must refer to the chapel inwhich we now stand."

  Poor Devanne could not believe his ears. It was all so new, sonovel to him. He exclaimed:

  "It is incredible, miraculous, and yet of a childish simplicity!How is it that no one has ever solved the mystery?"

  "Because no one has ever united the essential elements, that is tosay, the two books and the two sentences. No one, but Arsene Lupinand myself."

  "But, Father Gelis and I knew all about those things, and,likewise--"

  Holmes smiled, and said:

  "Monsieur Devanne, everybody cannot solve riddles."

  "I have been trying for ten years to accomplish what you did in tenminutes."

  "Bah! I am used to it."

  They emerged from the chapel, and found an automobile.

  "Ah! there's an auto waiting for us."

  "Yes, it is mine," said Devanne.

  "Yours? You said your chauffeur hadn't returned."

  They approached the machine, and Mon. Devanne questioned thechauffer:

  "Edouard, who gave you orders to come here?"

  "Why, it was Monsieur Velmont."

  "Mon. Velmont? Did you meet him?"

  "Near the railway station, and he told me to come to the chapel."

  "To come to the chapel! What for?"

  "To wait for you, monsieur, and your friend."

  Devanne and Holmes exchanged looks, and Mon. Devanne said:

  "He knew the mystery would be a simple one for you. It is adelicate compliment."

  A smile of satisfaction lighted up the detective's serious featuresfor a moment. The compliment pleased him. He shook his head, ashe said:

  "A clever man! I knew that when I saw him."

  "Have you seen him?"

  "I met him a short time ago--on my way from the station."

  "And you knew it was Horace Velmont--I mean, Arsene Lupin?"

  "That is right. I wonder how it came--"

  "No, but I supposed it was--from a certain ironical speech he made."

  "And you allowed him to escape?"

  "Of course I did. And yet I had everything on my side, such asfive gendarmes who passed us."

  "Sacrableu!" cried Devanne. "You should have taken advantage ofthe opportunity."

  "Really, monsieur," said the Englishman, haughtily, "when Iencounter an adversary like Arsene Lupin, I do not take advantageof chance opportunities, I create them."

  But time pressed, and since Lupin had been so kind as to send theautomobile, they resolved to profit by it. They seated themselvesin the comfortable limousine; Edouard took his place at the wheel,and away they went toward the railway station. Suddenly, Devanne'seyes fell upon a small package in one of the pockets of thecarriage.

  "Ah! what is that? A package! Whose is it? Why, it is for you."

  "For me?"

  "Yes, it is addressed: Sherlock Holmes, from Arsene Lupin."

  The Englishman took the package, opened it, and found that itcontained a watch.

  "Ah!" he exclaimed, with an angry gesture.

  "A watch," said Devanne. "How did it come there?"

  The detective did not reply.

  "Oh! it is your watch! Arsene Lupin returns your watch! But, inorder to return it, he must have taken it. Ah! I see! He tookyour watch! That is a good one! Sherlock Holmes' watch stolen byArsene Lupin! Mon Dieu! that is funny! Really....you must excuseme....I can't help it."

  He roared with laughter, unable to control himself. After which,he said, in a tone of earnest conviction:

  "A clever man, indeed!"

  The Englishman never moved a muscle. On the way to Dieppe, henever spoke a word, but fixed his gaze on the flying landscape.His silence was terrible, unfathomable, more violent than thewildest rage. At the railway station, he spoke calmly, but in avoice that impressed one with the vast energy and will power ofthat famous man. He said:

  "Yes, he is a clever man, but some day I shall have the pleasure ofplacing on his shoulder the hand I now offer to you, MonsieurDevanne. And I believe that Arsene Lupin and Sherlock Holmes willmeet again some day. Yes, the world is too small--we will meet--wemust meet--and then--"

  --The further startling and thrilling adventures of Arsene Lupinwill be found in the book entitled "Arsene Lupin versus HerlockSholmes."--