 Chapter 5 OF THE BLOND LADY Homelock Shears restrained his feelings. What was the use of protesting, of accusing those two men? Short of proofs, which he did not possess, and which he would not waste time in looking for, no one would take his word. With nerves on edge and fists tight clenched, he had but one thought, that of not betraying his rage and disappointment before the triumphant kanima. He bowed politely to those two mainstays of society, the brothers Lihu, and went downstairs. In the hall he turned towards a small, low-door, which marked the entrance to the cellar, and picked up a small red stone. It was a garnet. Outside, he looked up and read, close to the number of the house, the inscription, Lucien de Saint-Architect, 1877. He saw the same inscription on number forty-two. Always that double outlet, he thought, numbers forty and forty-two communicate. Why did I not think of it before? I ought to have stayed with the policemen all night. And, addressing them, he said, pointing to the door of the next house. Did two people go out by that door while I was away? Yes, sir, a lady and a gentleman. He took the arm of the chief inspector and led him along. Monsieur Ganyma, you have enjoyed too hardy a laugh to be very angry with me for disturbing you like this. Oh, I'm not angry with you at all. That's right, but the best jokes can't go on forever, and I think we must put an end to this one. I am with you. This is our seventh day. It is absolutely necessary that I should be in London in three days hence. I say, I say, I shall be there, though, and I beg you to hold yourself in readiness on Tuesday night. For an expedition of the same kind, asked Ganyma chaffingly, yes, of the same kind. And how will this one end? In Lupin's capture, you think so. I swear it on my honour. Sheers took his leave and went to seek a short rest in the nearest hotel, after which, refreshed and full of confidence, he returned to the Hugh Chalgrin, slipped to Louis into the hand of the concierge, made sure that the brothers Le Roux were out, learned that the house belonged to a certain Monsieur Harminger, and, carrying a candle, found his way down to the cellar through the little door near which he had picked up the garnet. At the foot of the stairs he picked up another, of exactly the same shape. I was right, he thought. This forms the communication. Let's see if my skeleton key opens the door of the cellar that belongs to the ground floor tenant. Yes, capital. Now, let's examine these wine bins. Aha, here are places where the dust has been removed, and footprints on the floor. A slight sound made him prick up his ears. He quickly closed the door, blew out his candle, and hid behind a stack of empty wine cases. After a few seconds he noticed that one of the iron bins was turning slowly on a pivot, carrying with it the whole of the piece of wall to which it was fastened. The light of a lantern was thrown into the cellar. An arm appeared. A man entered. He was bent in two, like a man looking for something. He fumbled in the dust with his fingertips, and, several times, he straightened himself and threw something into a cardboard box which he carried in his left hand. Next he removed the marks of his footsteps, as well as those left by Lupin and the blonde lady, and went back to the wine bin. He gave a hoarse cry and fell. Shears had leapt upon him. It was the matter of a moment, and, in the simplest way possible, the man found himself stretched on the floor with his ankles fastened together and his wrists bound. The Englishman stooped over him. How much will you take to speak, to tell what you know? The man replied, with so sarcastic a smile, that shears understood the futility of his question. He contented himself with exploring his captive's pockets, but his investigations produced nothing more than a bunch of keys, a pocket handkerchief, and a little cardboard box used by the fellow, and containing a dozen garnets similar to those which shears had picked up, a poor booty. Besides, what was he to do with a man? Wait until his friends came to his assistants and hand them all over to the police? What was the good? What advantage could he derive from it against Lupin? He was hesitating, when a glance at the box made him come to a decision. It bore the address of Leonah, jeweler, Hugh de Lapet. He resolved simply to leave the man where he was. He pushed back the bin, shut the cellar door, and left the house. He went to a post office and telegraphed to Messier d'Estonche, that he could not come until the next day. Then he went on to the jeweler and handed him the garnets. Madame sent me with these tones. They came off a piece of jewelry which she bought here. Shears had hit the nail on the head. The jeweler replied, That's right. The lady telephoned to me. She will call here herself presently. It was five o'clock before shears, standing on the pavement, saw a lady arrive, wrapped in a thick veil, whose appearance struck him as suspicious. Through the shop window he saw her place on the counter, an old-fashioned brooch sat with garnets. She went away almost at once, did a few errands on foot, walked up toward Clichy, and turned down streets which the Englishman did not know. At nightfall he followed her, unperceived by the concierge, into a five storied house built on either side of the doorway, and therefore containing numberless flats. She stopped at a door on the second floor, and went in. Two minutes later the Englishman put his luck to the test, and one after the other carefully tried the keys on the bunch of which he had obtained possession. The fourth key fitted the lock. Through the darkness that filled them he saw rooms which were absolutely empty, like those of an unoccupied flat, with all the doors standing open. But the light of a lamp filtered through from the end of a passage, and, approaching on tiptoe, through the glass door that separated the drawing-room from an adjoining bedroom, he saw the veiled lady take off her dress and hat, lay them on the one chair which the room contained, and slip on a velvet teagun. And he also saw her walk up to the chimney-piece, and push an electric bell. And one half of the panel to the right of the chimney moved from its position, and slipped along the wall into the thickness of the next panel. As soon as the gap was wide enough the lady passed through, and disappeared, taking the lamp with her. The system was a simple one. Sheers employed it. He found himself walking in the dark, groping his way. But suddenly his face came upon something soft. By the light of a match he saw that he was in a little closet, filled with dresses and clothes hanging from metal bars. He thrust his way through, and stopped before the embrasure of a door, closed by a tapestry hanging, or at least by the back of a hanging. And, his match being now burnt out, he saw light piercing through the loose and worn roof of the old stuff. Then he looked. The blonde lady was there, before his eyes, within reach of his hand. She put out the lamp and turned on the electric switch. For the first time Sheers saw her face in the full light. He gave a start. The woman whom he had ended by overtaking after so many shifts and turns was none other than Clotilde de Stange. Clotilde de Stange, the murderess of Baron d'Autraic, and the perloiner of the Blue Diamond. Clotilde de Stange, the mysterious friend of Arsène Lupin, the blonde lady in short. Why, of course, he thought, I'm the biggest blockhead that ever lived. Just because Lupin's friend is fair and Clotilde's dark, I never thought of connecting the two women. As though the blonde lady could afford to continue fair after the murder of the Baron, the theft of the diamond. Sheers saw part of the room, an elegant lady's boudoir, adorned with light-hangings and valuable knick-knacks. A mahogany satis stood on a slightly raised platform. Clotilde had sat down on it, and remained motionless, with her head between her hands. And soon he noticed that she was crying. Great tears flowed down her pale cheeks, trickled by her mouth, fell, drop by drop, on the velvet of her bodies. And more tears followed indefinitely, as though springing from an exhaustible source. And no sadder sight was ever seen than that dull and resigned despair which expressed itself in the slow flowing of the tears. But a door opened behind her. Arsène Lupin entered. They looked at each other for a long time, without exchanging a word. Then he knelt down beside her, pressed his head to her breast, put his arms round her. And there was infinite tenderness and great pity in the gesture with which he embraced the girl. They did not move. A soft silence united them, and her tears flowed less abundantly. I so much wanted to make you happy, he whispered. I am happy. No, for you're crying. And your tears break my heart, Clotilde. Yielding, in spite of herself, to the sound of his coaxing voice, she listened, greedy of hope and happiness. The smile softened her face, but oh, so sad a smile. He entreated her. Don't be sad, Clotilde. You have no reason. You have no right to be sad. She showed him her wide, delicate, listened hands, and sad gravely. As long as these hands are mine, Maxim, I shall be sad. But why? They have taken life. Maxim cried, Hush! You must not think of that. The past is that. The past does not count. And he kissed her long, wide hands, and she looked at him with a brighter smile, as though each kiss had wiped out a little of that hideous memory. You must love me, Maxim. You must, because no woman will ever love you as I do. To please you, I have acted. I am still acting, not only according to your orders, but according to your unspoken wishes. I do things against which all my instincts and all my conscience refold, but I am unable to resist. All that I do, I do mechanically, because it is of use to you, and you wish it. And I am ready to begin again, tomorrow, and always. He said bitterly, Ah, Clotilde, why did I ever mix you up in my adventurous life? I ought to have remained the Maxim Bergman whom you loved five years ago, and not have let you know the other man that I am. She whispered very low, I love that other man too, and I regret nothing. Yes, you regret your past life, your life in the light of day. I regret nothing when you are there, she said passionately. There's no such thing as guilt, no such thing as crime, when my eyes see you. What do I care if I am unhappy away from you, and if I suffer and cry and loathe all that I do? Your love wipes out everything. I accept everything, but you must love me. I do not love you because I must, Clotilde, but simply because I love you. Are you sure? She asked, trustingly. I am as sure of myself as I am of you, only, Clotilde. My life is a violent and feverish one, and I cannot always give you as much time as I should wish. She at once grew terrified. What is it? A fresh danger? Tell me, quick. Oh, nothing serious as yet. Still. Still what? Well, he's on our track. Shears? Yes. It was he who set Ganymar at me at the restaurant Hongrois. It was he who posted the two policemen in the Huchelgrin last night. The proof is that Ganymar searched the house this morning, and Shears was with him. Besides... Besides what? Well, there's something more. One of her men is missing, Jeannot. The Grand Sière? Yes. Why, I sent him to the Huchelgrin this morning to pick up some garnets which had fallen from my brooch. There's no doubt about it. Shears had caught him in a trap. Not at all. The garnets were brought to the jeweler in the Huit La Paix. Then what has become of Jeannot's sense? Oh, Maxim, I'm so frightened. There's no cause for alarm. But I admit that the position is very serious. How much does he know? Where is he hiding? His strength lies in his isolation. There's nothing to betray him. Then what have you decided on? Extreme prudence, Glotilde. Some time ago I made up my mind to move my things to the refuge you know of, the safe refuge. The intervention of Shears hastens the need. When a man like Shears is on a trail, we may take it that he's bound to follow that trail to the end. So I have made all my preparations. The removal will take place on the day after tomorrow, Wednesday. It will be finished by midday. By two o'clock I shall be able myself to leave after getting rid of the last vestige of our occupation, which is no small matter. Until then... Yes? We must not see each other, and no one must see you, Glotilde. Don't go out. I fear nothing for myself, but I fear everything where you're concerned. It isn't possible for that Englishman to get at me. Everything is possible to him, and I am not easy in my mind. Yesterday, when I was nearly caught by your father, I had come to search the cupboard which contains Messia Distanche's old ledgers. There's danger there. There's danger everywhere. I feel that the enemy is sprawling in the shade, and drawing nearer and nearer. I know that he's watching us, that he's laying his nets around us. It is one of those intuitions which never fail me. In that case, she said, Go, Maxime, and think no more about my tears. I shall be brave, and I will wait until the danger is over. Goodbye, Maxime. She gave him a long kiss, and she herself pushed him outside. Shears heard the sound of their voices grow fainter in the distance. Boldly, excited by the need of action, torred and against everything which had been stimulating him since the day before, he made his way to a passage, at the end of which was a staircase. But, just as he was going down, he heard the sound of a conversation below, and thought it better to follow a circular corridor which brought him to another staircase. At the foot of this staircase, he was greatly surprised to see furniture, the shape and position of which he already knew. A door stood half open. He entered a large round room. It was Monsieur Distanche's library. Capital. Splendid, he muttered. I understand everything now. The Boudoir of Clotilde, that is to say, the blonde lady, communicates with one of the flats in the next house, and the door of that house is not in the Place Malderve. But in an adjoining street, the Hume en Chana, if I remember right. admirable. And now I see how Clotilde Distanche slips out to meet her sweetheart, while keeping up the reputation of a person who never leaves the house. And I also see how Ascendoupa popped out close to me, yesterday evening, in the gallery. There must be another communication between the flat next door and this library. And he concluded, another faked house. Once again, no doubt, Distanche, architect. And what I must now do is to take advantage of my presence here, to examine the contents of the cupboard, and obtain all the information I can about the other faked houses. Shears went up to the gallery and hid behind the hangings of the rail. He stayed there till the end of the evening. A men's servant came to put out the electric lights. An hour later, the Englishman pressed the string of his lantern, and went down to the cupboard. As he knew, it contained the architect's old papers, files, plans, estimates, and account books. At the backs to the row of ledgers arranged in chronological order. He took down the more recent volumes, one by one, and at once looked through the index pages, more particularly under the letter H. At last, finding the word Harmingé, followed by the number 63, he turned up page 63 in red. There followed a detailed statement of works executed for this customer, with a view to the installation of a central heating apparatus in his property. And in the margin was this note. C. File M. B. I knew it, motor-shears. File M. B. is the one I want. When I have been through that, I shall know the whereabouts of Monsieur Lupin's present abode. The small hours had struck before he found File M. B. It consisted of fifteen pages. One was a copy of the page concerning M. Harmingé of the Rue Chauguin. Another contained a detailed account of works executed for M. Vatinelle, the owner of twenty-five Rue Cléperon. A third was devoted to Baron d'Otrec, a hundred thirty-four, avenue Henri Martin. A fourth to the Château des Crozons, and the eleven others to the different Paris landlords. Shears took down the list of eleven names and addresses, and then restored the papers to their place, opened the window, and jumped out into the deserted square, taking care to close the shutters behind him. On reaching his room at the hotel, he lit his pipe with the gravity which he always applied to that ceremony, and, enveloped in clouds of smoke, studied the conclusions to be drawn from File M. B., or to be more exact, the file devoted to Maxime Bernat, Elias Arsène Lupin. At eight o'clock he sent Ghanimah an express letter. I shall probably call on you in the Hupe-Golais this morning, and place in your charge a person whose capture is of the highest importance. In any case, stay at home tonight, and until twelve o'clock tomorrow, Wednesday morning, and arrange to have thirty men at your disposal. Then he went down the boulevard, picked out a motor cab with a driver whose good-humored, but unintelligent face took his fancy, and drove to the Place Malserbe, fifty yards beyond the Hotel Distanche. Close the hood, my man, he said to the driver, turn up the collar of your fur, for it's a cold wind, and wait for me patiently. Start your engine in an hour and a half from now. The moment I get in again, drives straight to the Hupe-Golais. With his foot on the doorstep of the house, he had a last moment of hesitation. Was it not a mistake to take so much trouble about the blonde lady, when Lupin was completing his preparations for departure? And would he not have done better, with the aid of his list of houses, to begin by finding out where his adversary lived? Poe, he said, when the blonde lady's my prisoner, I shall be master of the situation. And he rang the bell. He found Monsieur Distanche waiting in the library. They worked together for a little while, and Shears was seeking a pretext to go up to Clotilde's room, when the girl entered, said good morning to her father, sat down in the little drawing-room and began to write letters. From where he was sitting, Shears could see her as she bent over the table, and, from time to time, meditated with a poised pen in a thoughtful face. He waited, and then, taking up a volume, said to Monsieur Distanche, Poe, this is the book which Mademoiselle Distanche asked me to give her when I found it. He went into the little room, stood in front of Clotilde, in such a way that her father could not see her, and said, I am Monsieur Stickman, Monsieur Distanche's new secretary. Poe, she said, without moving, has my father changed his secretary? Yes, Mademoiselle, and I should like to speak to you. Take a seat, Monsieur, I have just finished. She added a few words to her letter, signed it, sealed the envelope, pushed back her papers, took up the telephone, asked to be put on to her dressmaker, backed her to hurry on a travelling club which she needed urgently, and then, turning to Shears. I am at your service, Monsieur, but cannot our conversation take place before my father? No, Mademoiselle, and I will even entreat you not to raise your voice. It would be better that Monsieur Distanche should not hear us. Better for whom? For you, Mademoiselle. I will not permit the conversation which my father cannot hear, and yet you must permit this one. They both rose, with their eyes fixed on each other, and she said, Speak, Monsieur. Still standing he began. You must forgive me if I am inaccurate in a few less important particulars. I will vouch for the general correctness of what I am going to say. No speeches, I beg. Facts. He felt from this abrupt interruption that the girl was on her guard, and he continued. Very well. I will come straight to the point. Five years ago, your father happened to meet the Monsieur Maxime Bergmont, who introduced himself as a contractor or an architect, I am not sure which. In any case, Monsieur Distanche took a liking to this young man, and, as the state of his health no longer allowed him to attend to his business, he entrusted to Monsieur Bergmont the execution of a few orders, which he had accepted to please some old customers, and which appeared to him to come within the scope of his assistant's capacity. Shears stopped. It seemed to him that the girl had grown paler. Still, she answered with the greatest calmness. I know nothing of the things about which you are talking, you see, and I am quite unable to see how they can interest me. They interest you in so far, mademoiselle, that Monsieur Maxime Bergmont's real name, which you know as well as I do, is Arsène Lupin. She burst out laughing. Nonsense! Arsène Lupin! Monsieur Maxime Bergmont's name is Arsène Lupin. As I have the honor to inform you, mademoiselle, and since you refuse to understand me unless I speak plainly, I will add that Arsène Lupin, to accomplish his designs, has found in this house a friend, more than a friend, a blind and passionately devoted accomplice. She rose and, betraying no emotion, or at least so little emotion that Shears was impressed by her extraordinary self-control, said, I do not know the reason for your behavior, monsieur, and I have no wish to know it. I will ask you, therefore, not to add another word and to leave the room. I had no intention, mademoiselle, of imposing my presence upon you indefinitely, such Shears as calmly as herself. Only I have resolved not to leave this house alone. And who is going with you, monsieur? You. I. Yes, mademoiselle, we shall leave this house together, and you will accompany me without a word, without a protest. The strange feature of this scene was the absolute coolness of the two adversaries. To judge by their attitudes and the tone of their voices, it might have been a courteous discussion between two people who differ in opinion, rather than an implacable duel between two powerful wills. Through the great open resets, monsieur Distange could be seen in the round library, handling his books with leisurely movements. Clotilde sat down again with a slight shrug of the shoulders. Homeluck Shears took out his watch. It is now half past ten. We will start in five minutes. And if I refuse? If you refuse, I shall go to monsieur Distange and tell him. What? The truth. I shall describe to him the false life led by Maxime Bergmont and the double life of his accomplice. Of his accomplice? Yes, of the one known as the blonde lady, the lady whose hair was once fair. And what proofs will you give him? I shall take him to the Huchot Grand and show him the passage which Arsène Lupin, when managing the works, made his men construct between Numbers 40 and 42, the passage employed by the two of you on the night before last. Next. Next. I shall take monsieur Distange to Maître de Tinnance. We will go down the servant staircase which you ran down with Arsène Lupin to escape Ganymar. And we will both look for the doubtless, similar means of communication with the next house, which has its entrance on the Boulevard des Batignols and not in the Huchot Clépéran. Next. Next. I shall take monsieur Distange to the Château des Roses. And it will be easy for him, who knows the nature of the works executed by Arsène Lupin at the time of the restoration of the château, to discover the secret passages which Arsène Lupin made his men construct. He will find that these passages enable the blonde lady to enter Madame de Croson's room at night, and take the blue diamond from the chimney, and, a fortnight later, to enter her Blytheon's room, and hide the blue diamond at the bottom of a flask. A rather queer thing to do, I admit. Perhaps it was a woman's petty vengeance. I do not know when it makes no difference. Next. Next. Said Homewock Shears in a more serious voice. I shall take monsieur Distange to 134 Avenue en Remarneur, and together we will try to discover how Baron d'Otrèque hush, hush. Stammer the girl in a sudden dismay. You must not. Do you dare to say it was I? Do you accuse me? I accuse you of killing Baron d'Otrèque. No. No, this is monstrous. You kill Baron d'Otrèque, mademoiselle. You entered his service under the name of Antoinette Préar, with the intention of robbing him of the blue diamond, and you killed him. Again, she murmured, breaking down and reduced to entreaties. Hush, monsieur, I beg. As you know so much, you must also know that I did not murder the Baron. I did not say that you murdered him, mademoiselle. Baron d'Otrèque was subject to fits of insanity, which only Sarho Guste was able to check. She has told me this herself. He must have thrown himself upon you in her absence, and it was in the course of the ensuing struggle that you struck at him in self-defense. Appalled by what you had done, you rang the bell and flared, without even taking from his finger the blue diamond which you had come to secure. A moment later, you returned with one of Lupin's accomplices, a men-servant in the next house, lifted the Baron on to his bed and arranged the room, but still without daring to take the blue diamond. That's what happened. Therefore, I repeat, you did not murder the Baron, and yet it was your hands that killed him. She was holding them, clasped before her forehead. Her slim, white, delicate hands, and she kept them long like that, motionless. Then, uncrossing her fingers, she showed her sorrow-stricken face, and said, And you mean to tell all this to my father? Yes, and I shall tell him that I have as witnesses mademoiselle Gerbois, who will recognize the blonde lady, Sir Auguste, who will recognize Antoinette Préar, the contest de Crozon, who will recognize Madame de Réal. That is what I shall tell him. You will not there, she said, recovering her presence of mine in the face of immediate danger. He rose and took a step toward the library. Clotilde stopped him. One moment, Missier. She reflected, and, now fully mistress of herself, asked very calmly, You are homelock shears, are you not? Yes. What do you want with me? What do I want? I have entered upon a contest with Arsène Lupin, from which I must emerge the winner. Pending a result which cannot be far distant, I am of opinion that a hostage, as valuable as yourself, will give me a considerable advantage over my adversary. You shall go with me, therefore, mademoiselle, and I will place you under the care of a friend of mine. As soon as my object is attained, you shall be set free. Is that all? That is all. I do not belong to the police of your country, and consequently I claim no justice here, he writes. Her mind appeared made up. However, she asked for a moment's delay. Her eyelids closed, and she stood watching her, suddenly grown calm, almost indifferent to the perils that threatened her. I wonder, thought the Englishman, if she believes herself to be in danger. Probably not, with Lupin to protect her. With Lupin there, nothing can happen to her, she thinks. Lupin is omnipotent, Lupin is infallible. Mademoiselle, he said aloud, I spoke of five minutes. It is now more than thirty. May I go to my room, monsieur, and fetch my things? If you like, mademoiselle, I will go and wait for you in the Hu-Manchana. I am a great friend of Genoux, the concierge. Ah, so you know, she said, with visible dismay. I know a great many things. Very well, then I will ring. The servant brought her hat and cloak, and she said, You must give monsieur this tunch some reason to explain our departure, and the reason must be enough, in case of need, to explain your absence for two or three days. That is unnecessary. I shall be back presently. Again they exchanged a defiant glance, skeptical, both of them, and smiling. How you trust him, said shears, blindly. Whatever he does is right, is it not? Whatever he wishes is realized, and you approve of everything, and are prepared to do everything for his sake. I love him, she said, with her tremor of passion. And you believe that he will save you? She shrugged her shoulders, and going up to her father, told him. I am robbing you of monsieur Stickman. We are going to the National Library. Will you be back to lunch? Perhaps, or more likely not, but don't worry about me in any case. And in a firm voice she said to shears, I am ready, monsieur, without reserve, he whispered, with my eyes closed. If you try to escape, I shall shout and call for help. You will be arrested, and it will mean prison. Don't forget that there is a warrant out against the blonde lady. I swear to you and my honor that I will make no attempt to escape. I believe you, let us go. They left the house together, as he had foretold. The motor cab had turned round, and was waiting in the square. They could see the driver's back and his cab, which was almost covered by the upturned collar of his fur. As they approached, shears heard the humming of the engine. He opened the door, asked Clotill to step in, and sat down beside her. The car started with a jerk, and soon reached the outer boulevards. The avenue Hosh, the avenue de la Grande Armée. Shears were thinking out his plans. Ghanimar is at home. I shall leave the girl with him. Shall I tell him who she is? No. He would take her straight to the police station, which would put everything out. As soon as I am alone I will consult the MB list, and set out on my chase. And tonight, or tomorrow morning at latest, I shall go to Ghanimar, as arranged, and deliver Arsène Lupin, his gang to him. He rubbed his hands, glad to feel that his object was at last within his reach, and to see that there was no serious obstacle in the way. And, yielding to a need for expansion, which was not in keeping with his usual nature, he said, Forgive me, Mademoiselle, for displaying so much satisfaction. It was a difficult fight, and I find my success particularly agreeable. A legitimate success was here, in which you have every right to rejoice. Thank you. But what a funny way we are going, didn't the man understand? At that moment they were leaving Paris by the Port d'Henri. What on earth? After all, the hypergoles was not outside the certifications. Shears let down the glass. I say, Trevor, you're going wrong, hypergoles. The man made no reply. Shears repeated in a louder voice. I'm telling you to go to the hypergoles. The man took no notice. Look here, my man, are you deaf? Or are you doing it on purpose? This isn't where I told you to go. Hypergoles, do you hear? Turn round at once and look sharp about it. Still no reply. The Englishman began to be alarmed. He looked at Clotilde. A queer smile was playing on the girl's lips. What are you laughing at? he stormed. This doesn't affect. It has nothing to say to... Nothing in the very least, she replied. Suddenly he was taken aback by an idea. Half rising from his seat, he attentively scrutinized the man on the box. His shoulders were slimmer. His movements easier. A cold sweat broke out on Shears' forehead. His hands contracted, while the most hideous conviction forced itself upon his mind. The man was Arsène Lupin. Well, Mr. Shears, what do you think of this little drive? It's delightful, my dear sir. Really delightful, replied Shears. Perhaps he had never in his life made a more tremendous effort than it cost him to utter those words without a tremor in his voice, without anything that could betray the exasperation that filled his whole being. But the minute after he was carried away by a sort of formidable reaction, and a torrent of rage and hatred burst its banks, overcame his will, and made him suddenly draw his revolver and point it at Mademoiselle de Stange. Lupin, if you don't stop this minute, this second I fire at Mademoiselle. I advise you to aim at the cheek if you want to hit the temple, said Lupin, without turning his head. Claude Tilt called out, Don't go too fast, Maxime. The pavement's very slippery and you know how timid I am. She was still smiling, with her eyes fixed on the cobbles with which the road bristled in front of the car. Stop him! Tell him to stop! shouted Shears, beside himself with fury. You can see for yourself that I am capable of anything. The muzzle of the revolver graced her hair. How reckless Maxime is, she murmured. We are sure to skid at this rate. Shears replaced the revolver in his pocket and seized the handle of the door, preparing to jump out in spite of the absurdity of the act. Take care, Mr. Shears, said Claude Tilt. There's a motor car behind us. He leaned out. A car was following them. An enormous car, fierce-looking, with its pointed bonnet, blood-red in color, and the four men in furs inside it. Ha! he said. I'm well guarded. We must have patience. He crossed his arms on his chest, with the proud submission of those who bow and wait when fate turns against him. And while they crossed the Seine, and tore through Suresne, Huell, and Chateau, motionless and resigned without anger or bitterness, he thought only of discovering by what miracle Arsène Lupin had put himself in the driver's place. That the decent fellow whom he had picked out that morning on the boulevard could be an accomplice, posted there of sad purpose, he refused to admit. And yet Arsène Lupin must have received a warning, that only after the moment when he, Shears, had threatened Claude Tilt, for no one suspected his plan before. Now, from that moment Claude Tilt and he had not laughed each other's presence. Suddenly he remembered the girl's telephoning to her dressmaker, and all at once he understood. Even before he spoke, at the very moment when he asked for an interview as Messier Destange's new secretary, she had scented danger, guess the visitor's name and object, and coolly, naturally, as though she were really doing what she appeared to do, had summoned Lupin to her aid, under the pretense of speaking to one of her tradespeople, and by means of a formula known to themselves alone. How Arsène Lupin had come, how that motor cab in waiting, with its throbbing engine, had aroused its suspicion. How he had bribed the driver. All this mattered little. What interested Shears almost to the point of calming his rage, was the recollection of that moment, in which a mere woman, a woman in love, it is true, mastering her nerves, suppressing her instinct, controlling the features of her face and the expression of her eyes, had humbugged old homelock Shears. What was he to do, against a man served by such allies? A man who, by the sheer ascendancy of his authority, inspired a woman with such a stock of daring and energy. They recrossed the Seine, and climbed the slope of Saint-Germain. But, five hundred yards beyond the town, the cab slowed down. The other car came up with it, and the two stopped alongside. There was no one about. Mr. Shears, salut-pain, may I trouble you to change cars? Ours is really so very slow. Certainly, said Shears, all the more politely, as he had no choice. Will you also permit me to lend you this fur, for we shall be going pretty fast, and to offer you a couple of sandwiches? Yes, yes, take them. There's no telling when you will get any dinner. The four men had alighted. One of them came up, and, as he had taken off the goggles which disguised him, Shears recognized the gentleman in the frock coat, whom he had seen at the Restaurant-Hongrois. Lupin gave him his instructions. Take the cab back to the driver from whom I hired it. You will find him waiting in the first wine-shop on the right in the Hulet-Gendre. Pay him the second thousand francs I promised him. Oh, I was forgetting. You might give Mr. Shears your goggles. He spoke a few words to Mademoiselle d'Estainges, then took his seat at the wheel, and drove off, with Shears beside him, and one of his men behind. Lupin had not exaggerated when saying that they would go pretty fast. They travelled at the giddy pace from the first. The horizon rushed towards them, as though attracted by a mysterious force, and disappeared at the same moment, as though swallowed up by an abyss into which other things, trees, houses, planes, and forests plunged with the tumultuous speed of a torrent rushing down to the pool below. Shears and Lupin did not exchange a word. Above their heads, the leaves of the poplars made a great noise as of waves, punctuated by the regular spacing of the trees. And town after town vanished from sight. Mont, Vernon, Gagnon. From hill to hill, from Bonsecourt to Cantelot, Rouen, with her suburbs, her harbour, her miles upon miles of quays, Rouen seemed no more than the high street of a market-town. And they rushed through Duclair, through Côte-B, through the Pays-de-Côte, skimming over its hills and planes in their powerful flight, through Lilbon, through Culebeuf. And suddenly they were on the bank of the Seine, at the end of a small quay, alongside which lay a steam-yotch, built on sober and powerful lines, with black smoke curling up from her funnel. The car stopped. They had covered over a hundred miles in two hours. A man dressed in a blue P-jacket came forward, and touched his gold-laced cap. Well done, Captain! Salut-pas. Did you get my telegram? Yes, sir. Is the Irondelle ready? Quite ready, sir. In that case, Mr. Shears. The Englishman looked around him, saw a group of people seated outside a café, another a little nearer, hesitated for a moment, and then, realizing that, before anyone could enter fear, he would be seized, forced on board, and packed off at the bottom of the hold, he crossed the foot plank, and followed Lupin into the captain's cabin. It was roomy, specklessly clean, and shone brightly with its varnished wainscoating and gleaming brass. Lupin closed the door, and, without beating about the bush, sat to Shears almost brutally. Tell me exactly how much you know. Everything. Everything I want details. His voice had lost the tone of politeness, tinged with irony which he adopted towards the Englishman. Instead, it rang with the imperious accent of the master who is accustomed to command, and accustomed to see everyone bow before his will, even though it be of homelock shears. They eyed each other now from head to foot as enemies, declared impassionate enemies. Lupin resumed, with a touch of nervousness. You have crossed my path, sir, on several occasions. Each occasion has been one too many, and I am tired of wasting my time avoiding the traps you lay for me. I warn you, therefore, that my conduct toward you will depend upon your answer. How much exactly do you know? Everything, I tell you. I send up a master his annoyance, and jerked out. I will tell you what you know. You know that, under the name of Maxime Bergmont, I touched up fifteen houses built by Monsieur Destange. Yes. Of those fifteen houses you know four. Yes. And you have a list of the eleven others. Yes. You made out the list at Monsieur Destange's last night, no doubt. Yes. And, as you presume that, among those eleven properties, there must inevitably be one which I keep for my own needs and those of my friends, you have instructed Ganyma to take the field and discover my retreat. No. What do you mean? I mean that I am acting alone, and I intended to take the field alone. So I have nothing to fear, seeing that I have you in my hands. You have nothing to fear, so long as I remain in your hands. You mean to say that you will not remain? I do. Ascend upon went up to the homelock shears and placed his hand very gently on the Englishman's shoulder. Listen to me, sir. I am not in the mood for argument, and you, unfortunately, for yourself, are not in a position to check me. Let us put an end to this. Yes, let us. You shall give me your word of honour not to attempt to escape from this boat until she reaches English waters. I give you my word of honour that I shall attempt to escape by every means in my power. Said shears, nothing daunted. But that should all you know I have only to speak a word to reduce you to helplessness. All these men obey me blindly, and asigned from me they will put a chain round your neck. Chains can be broken, and throw you overboard at ten miles from the coast. I can swim. Well said! cried Lupin, laughing. Heaven forgive me, but I lost my temper. Except my apology, maître. And let us conclude. Will you allow me to seek the necessary measures for my safety and that of my friends? Any measures you like, but they are useless. Agreed. Still you will not mind if I take them. It's your duty. To work, then. Lupin opened the door and called the captain and two of the crew. The latter seized the Englishman, and, after searching him, bound his legs together and tied him down in the captain's berth. That will do, ordered Lupin. Really, sir, nothing short of your obstinacy and the exceptional gravity of the circumstances would have allowed me to venture. The sailors withdrew. Lupin said to the captain, Captain, one of the crew must remain in the cabin to wait on Mr. Shears, and you yourself must keep him company as much as you can. Let him be treated with every consideration. He's not a prisoner, but a guest. What is the time of your watch, Captain? Five minutes past two. Lupin looked at his own watch, and at a clock which hung on the cabin wall. Five minutes past two? Our watches agree. How long will it take you to reach Southampton? Nine hours without hurrying. Make it eleven. You must not touch land before the departure of the steamer which leaves Southampton at midnight, and is due at the Havre at eight in the morning. You understand, Captain, do you not? I repeat, it would be exceedingly dangerous for us all if this gentleman returned to France by the steamer, and you must not arrive at Southampton before one o'clock in the morning. Very well, sir. Goodbye, Maître, said Lupin, turning to Shears. We shall meet next year, in this world or another. Let's say, tomorrow. A few minutes later, Shears heard the car drive away, and the engines of the Irondelle at once began to throb with increased force. The yachts threw off her moorings. By three o'clock they had left the estuary of the Sain and entered the Channel. At that moment, Holmlock Shears lay sound asleep in the berth to which he was fastened down. On the following morning, the tenth and last day of the war between the two great rivals, the École de France published this delicious paragraph. A decree of expulsion was pronounced by Arsène Lupin yesterday against Holmlock Shears, the English detective. The decree was published at noon, and executed on the same day. Shears was landed at Southampton at one o'clock this morning. End of Chapter 5. Chapter 6 of The Blonde Lady. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Lényi. The Blonde Lady by Mohiss Leblanc. Translated by Alexandre Teixeira-Giamatouche. Chapter 6. The Second Arrest of Arsène Lupin. By eight o'clock on Wednesday morning, a dozen pantechnic and vans were blocking the Hugh Crevaux from the Avenue du Bois de Bologna to the Avenue Gougeau. Monsieur Félix David was leaving the flat which he occupied on the fourth floor of No. 8. And, by a sheer coincidence, for the two gentlemen were not acquainted, Monsieur Jubeux-Rouis, the expert, who had knocked into one the fifth floor flat of No. 8 and the fifth floor flat of the two adjoining houses, had selected the same day on which to send off the collection of furniture and antiques which used to be visited daily by one or other of his many foreign correspondents. A peculiarity which attracted notice in the neighborhood, but which was not mentioned until later, was that none of the twelve vans bore the name and address of the firm of removers, and that none of the men in charge of them loitered in the wine shops round about. They worked to such good purpose that all was over by eleven o'clock. Nothing remained but those piles of old papers and rags which are always left behind in the corners of empty rooms. Monsieur Felix Zavi was a young man of smart appearance, dressed in the latest fashion, but carrying a heavily weighted cane which seemed to indicate unusual muscular strength on the part of its owner. He walked away quietly and sat down on a bench in the cross alley which intersects the Avenue Jubeux opposite the Rue Pergoles. Beside him sat a young woman, clad in the costume of the lower middle class, and reading her paper while a child played with its fade in the sand beside her. Presently Felix Zavi sat to the woman without turning his head. Ghanimah went out at nine o'clock this morning. Where to? Police headquarters. Alone? Yes. No telegram last night? No. Do they still trust you at the house? Yes. I do odd work for Madame Ghanimah and she tells me all her husband does. We spent the morning together. Good. Continue to come here at eleven every morning until further orders. He rose and walked to the Pavillon Chinois near the Porte d'Offine where he took a frugal meal, two eggs, some vegetables, and a little fruit. Then he returned to the Rue Crevaux and sat to the concierge. I am going to have a look round upstairs and then I'll give you the keys. He finished his inspection with the room which he used as a study. There he took hold of the end of a jointed gas bracket which was fixed beside the chimney, unscrewed the brass nozzle, fitted a little funnel-shaped instrument to it, and blew up the pipe. A faint whistle sounded in reply, putting the pipe to his mouth he whispered. Anyone there du bruit? No. Can I come up? Yes. He replaced the bracket, same as he did so. Where will progress stop? Our aged teams with little inventions that make life really charming and picturesque, and so amusing too, especially when a man knows the game of life as I know it. He touched one of the marble moldings of the mental piece and made it swing round on a pivot. The marble slab itself moved and the mirror above it slid between invisible grooves, revealing a yawning gap which contained the lower steps of a staircase built in the body of the chimney itself. It was all very clean and carefully polished iron and white porcelain tiles. He climbed up to the fifth floor which had a similar opening over the mental piece and found Monsieur du bruit awaiting him. Is everything finished here? Everything. All cleared up? Quiet. The staff? All gone, except the three men keeping watch. Let's go up. They climbed by the same way to the servant's floor and emerged in a garret where they found three men, one of whom was looking out of the window. Any news? No, Governor. Is the street quiet? Absolutely. I shall leave for good in ten minutes. You will go too. In the meantime, if you notice the least suspicious movement in the street, let me know. I've got my finger on the alarm bell, Governor. Du bruit, did you remember to tell the removers not to touch the bell wires? Yes, they work perfectly. That's all right then. The true gentleman returned to Felix d'Avie's flat, and d'Avie, after readjusting the marble molding, exclaimed gaily. Du bruit, I should love to see the faces of those who discovered all these wonderful contrivances. Alarm bells, a network of electric wires and speaking tubes, invisible passages, sliding floorboards, secret staircases, regular pen to my machinery. What an advertisement for Arsène Dupin! We could very well have done without the advertisement. It seems a pity to leave so fine an installation. We shall have to begin all over again, du bruit. And upon a new plan, of course. For it never does to repeat oneself. Confound that shears. He's not come back, I suppose. How could he? There's only one boat from Southampton, which leaves at midnight. From the Havre there's only one train, which leaves at eight in the morning, and arrives at eleven-three. Once he has not taken the midnight seamer, and he has not, for my orders to the captain were formal. He can't reach France till this evening, via New Haven and Dieppe. If he comes back, shears never throws up the game. He will come back, but it will be too late. We shall be far away. And mademoiselle de Stange. I am to meet her in an hour. At her house? No. She won't go home for a few days, until the storm has blown over. And I am able to look after her more thoroughly. But you must hurry, du bruit. It will take a long time to ship all the cases, and you will be wanted on the wharf. You sure we are not being watched? Whom by? I was never afraid of anyone but shears. Du bruit went away. Félix d'Avie took a last walk round the flat, picked up a torn letter, or two. And then, seeing a piece of chalk, he took it, drew a large circle on the dark wallpaper of the dining room, and wrote, after the style of a commemorative tablet. Arsène Lupin, gentleman burglar, lived here, for five years at the commencement of the 20th century. This little joke seemed to cause him a lively satisfaction. He whistled gaily as he looked at it and cried, Now that I have put myself right with the historians of the future generations, let's be off. Hurry up, mademoiselle homelock shears. In three minutes I shall have left my lair, and your defeat will be absolute. Two minutes more. You're keeping me waiting, madame. One minute more. Aren't you coming? Very well. I proclaim your downfall and my apotheosis, with which last words I proceed to make myself scarce. Farewell, O kingdom of Arsène Lupin. I shall not look upon you again. Farewell, you have five and fifty rooms of the six flats over which I reigned. Farewell, austere and humble dwelling. A bell cut short his lyrical effusion. A short, shrill, strident bell, twice interrupted, twice resumed, and then seizing. It was the alarm bell. What could it mean? Some unexpected danger? Canima? Surely not. He was on the point of making for his study and escaping, but first he turned to the window. There was no one in the street. Was the enemy already in the house then? He listened and seemed to distinguish confused sounds. Without further hesitation he ran to his study, and, as he crossed the threshold, heard the sound of a latchkey fumbling at the lock of the hall door. By Jove, he muttered, I have only just time. The house may be surrounded. No use trying the servant's staircase. Fortunately the chimney. He pushed the molding smartly. It did not move. He exerted greater force. It did not move. At the same moment he received the impression that the outer door was opening and that step sounded. Curse it all, his war. I'm lost if this confounded spring. His fingers clutched the molding. He bore upon it with all his weight. Nothing moved. Nothing. By some incredible bad luck. By a really bewildering piece of malice on the part of fate. The spring, which was working only a moment before, now refused to work. He persisted madly, convulsively. The block of marble remained inert, motionless. Curse it. Was it conceivable that this stupid obstacle should bar his way? He struck the marble, struck with furious blows with his fists, hammered it, insulted it. Why must you, Lupin? Is something not going as you wish? Lupin turned round, terrors stricken. Homelock shears stood before him. Homelock shears. Lupin gazed at him, blinking his eyes, as though smarting under a cruel vision. Homelock shears in Paris. Homelock shears, whom he had packed off to England the day before, as he might a compromising parcel, stood there before him, triumphant and free. Ha! For this impossible miracle to be performed, and despite of Arsène Lupin's will, there must have been a revolution of the laws of nature, a victory of all that is illogical and abnormal. Homelock shears, standing opposite him. And the Englishman, resorting to ironing his turn, said, with that supercilious politeness with which his adversary had so often lashed him, Monsieur Lupin, believe me, from this minute I shall cease to remember the night you made me spend in Bahondo Tric's house. Seize to remember, my friend Wilson Smith-Habs. Seize to remember how I was kidnapped by motor-car. Seize to remember the sea voyage which I have just taken, fastened down by your orders to an uncomfortable berth. This minute wipes out all. I forget everything. I am rewarded, amply rewarded. Lupin did not speak. The Englishman added, don't you think so yourself? He appeared to be insisting, as though demanding in a scent, a sort of receipt with regard to the past. After a moment's reflection, during which the Englishman felt himself searched and fathomed to the very bottom of his soul, Lupin said, I presume, sir, that your present action rests upon serious motives. Extremely serious motives. The fact of your escaping from my captain and his crew is only a secondary incident in our struggle. But the fact of your being here before me, alone, do you understand, alone in the presence of Arsène Lupin, makes me believe that your revenge is as complete as possible. It is as complete as possible. This house, surrounded. The two next houses, surrounded. The flat above this, the three flats on the fifth floor, which were occupied by Monsieur Dubierry, are invested. So that, so that you were caught, Monsieur Lupin, a redeemably caught. Lupin now experienced the same feelings that had stirred shears during his motor-car drive, the same concentrated rage, the same rebellion. But also, when all was said and done, the same sense of loyalty which compelled him to bow before the force of circumstances, both were equally strong. Both alike were bound to accept defeat as a temporary evil to be received with resignation. We are quits, sir, he said bluntly. The Englishman seemed delighted at this confession. The two men were silent. Then Lupin, already master of himself, resumed with a smile. And I am not sorry. It was becoming wearisome to win every thrust. I had only to put out my arm to hit you full in the chest. This time, you score one. Well, hit Maitre, he laughed wholeheartedly. At last we shall have some fun. Lupin is caught in the trap. How will he get out? Caught in the trap. What an adventure! Ah, Maitre, I have to thank you for a grand emotion. This is what I call life. He pressed his clenched fists to his temples, as though to restrain the ungovernable joy that was bubbling up within him. And he also had gestures like those of a child amusing itself beyond its power of endurance. At last he went up to the Englishman. And now what are you here for? What am I here for? Yes, Garimah is outside with his men. Why does he not come in? I asked him not to. And he consented. I called in his services only on the express condition that he would be led by me. Besides, he believes that M. F. David is merely an accomplice of Lupin's. Then I will repeat my question under another form. Why did you come in alone? I wanted to speak to you first. Aha, you wanted to speak to me. The ideas seem to please Lupin greatly. There are circumstances in life in which we much prefer words to deeds. Mr. Shears, I am sorry not to have a chair to offer you. Does this broken box suit you? Or the window ledge? I'm sure a glass of beer would be acceptable. Do you like it light or dark? But do sit down. I beg. Never mind that. Let us talk. I am listening. I shall not belong. The object of my staying friends was not to effect your arrest. I was obliged to pursue you, because no other means offered of attaining my real object. Which was? To recover the blue diamond. The blue diamond? Certainly, because the wand discovered in Herb Lycian's tooth-powder flask was not the real one. Just so, the real one was posted by the blonde lady. I had an exact copy made, and as at that time I had designs upon the conteste de croissants other jewels, and as the Austrian consul was already under suspicion, the aforesaid blonde lady, lest you should be suspected in her turn, slipped the imitation diamond into the aforesaid consul's luggage. While you kept the real one. Quite right. I want that diamond. Impossible. I'm sorry. I have promised it to the conteste de croissants. I mean to have it. How can you have it, seeing that it's in my possession? I mean to have it, just because it is in your possession. You mean that I shall give it back to you? Yes. Voluntarily. I will buy it of you. Lupin had a fit of merriment. Anyone can tell what country you come from. You treat this as a matter of business. It is a matter of business. And what price do you offer? The liberty of Mademoiselle de Stange. Her liberty? But I am not aware that she is under arrest. I shall give Messier Ganymar the necessary information. Once deprived of your protection, she will be taken also. Lupin burst out laughing again. My dear sir, you are offering me what you do not possess. Mademoiselle de Stange is safe and fears nothing. I want something else. The Englishman hesitated, obviously embarrassed and flushing slightly. Then he put his hand briskly on his adversary's shoulder. And if I offered you my liberty? No. But still, I might leave the room to arrange with Messier Ganymar. And leave me to think things over? Yes. Well, what on earth would be the good of that? This confounded spring won't work, said Lupin, irritably pushing the bolding of the mantle. His stifle the exclamation of surprise. This time, freakish chance had willed that the block of marble should move under his fingers. Safety, flight became possible. In that case, why submit to Holmlock Sheer's conditions? He walked to and fro as though reflecting upon his answer. Then he, in his turn, put his hand on the Englishman's shoulder. After due consideration, Mr. Sheer's, I prefer to settle my little affairs alone. Still, no, I don't want anybody's help. When Ganymar has you, it will be up with you. They won't let you go again. Who knows? Come, this is madness. Every outlet is watched. One remains. Which one? The one I shall select. Words, your arrest may be looked upon as effected. It is not effected. So, so, I shall keep the blue diamond. Sheer's took out his watch. It is ten minutes to three. At three o'clock, I call Ganymar. That gives us ten minutes to chat in. Let us make the most of our time, Mr. Sheer's, and tell me, to satisfy the curiosity by which I am devoured. How did you procure my address and my name of Felix Davie? Keeping a watchful iron lupin whose good humor made him feel uneasy, Sheer's gladly consented to give this little explanation, which flattered his vanity, and said, I had your address from the blonde lady. Clotilde? Yes, you remember, yesterday morning, when I meant to carry her off in the motor cab, she telephoned to her dressmaker. So she did. Well, I understood later that the dressmaker was yourself. And last night, in the boat, thanks to an effort of memory, which is perhaps one of the things of which I am most proud, I succeeded in recollecting the last two figures of your telephone number, seven three. In this way, as I possessed the list of the houses which you had touched up, it was easy for me, on my arrival in Paris at eleven o'clock this morning, to look through the telephone directory, until I discovered the name and address of Mr. Felix Davie. The name and address once known, I called in the aid of Mr. Ghanimah. Admirable. First rate. I make you my bow. But what I can't quite grasp is that you took the train at the Havre. How did you manage to escape from the Hirondelle? I did not escape. But you gave the captain orders not to reach Southampton until one o'clock. Well, they landed me at twelve, and I caught the Havre boat. The captain played me false, impossible. It did not play you false. What then? It was his watch. His watch? Yes, I put his watch on an hour. How? The only way in which one can put a watch on, by turning the winder. We were sitting together chatting, and I told him things that interested him. By Jove, he noticed nothing. Well done, well done. It's a good trick, and I must remember it. But what about the cabin clock? Oh, the clock was more difficult, for my legs were bound. But the sailor who was put in charge of me, whenever the captain went on that kindly consented to give the hands a push. The sailor? Nonsense. Do you mean to say he consented? Oh, he did not know the importance of what he was doing. I told him I must, at all costs, catch the first train to London, and he allowed himself to be persuaded. In consideration? In consideration of a little present, which the decent fellow, however, intends faithfully to send to you. What present? A mere nothing. Well, but what? The blue diamond. The blue diamond? Yes, the imitation one, which is substituted for the countess's diamond, and which she left in my hands. Arsène Dupin gave a sudden and tumultuous burst of laughter. He seemed ready to die. His eyes were wet with tears. Oh, what a joke! My fake diamond handed back to the sailor, and the captain's watch, and the hands of the clock. Never before had homelock shears felt the struggle between Arsène Dupin and himself grow so intense as now. With his prodigious intuition, he guessed that, under this excessive gait he, Lupin was concentrating his formidable mind in collecting all his faculties. Lupin had gradually drawn closer. The Englishman stepped back, and slipped his fingers, as though absentmindedly into his pocket. It's three o'clock, Monsieur Lupin. Three o'clock already. What a pity. We were having such fun. I am waiting for your answer. My answer? Goodness me! What a lot you want! So this finishes the game with my liberty for the stakes, or the blue diamond. Very well. It's your lead. What do you do? I mark the king, said shears, firing a shot with his revolver. And here's my hand, retorted Arsène, hurling his fist at the Englishman. Shears had fired at the ceiling to summon Ganima, the need for whose intervention now seemed urgent. But Arsène's fist caught him full in the wind, and he turned pale and staggered back. Lupin gave one bound toward the chimney, and the marble slab moved. Too late. The door opened. Surrender, Lupin. If not, Ganima, who had doubtless been posted nearer than Lupin thought, stood there with his revolver aimed at him. And behind Ganima, ten men, twenty men crowded upon one another's heels. Powerful, ruthless fellows, prepared to beat Lupin down like a dog at the least sign of resistance. He made a quiet gesture. Hands off there, I surrender. And he crossed his arms over his chest. A sort of stupor followed. In the room stripped of its furniture and hangings, Arsène Dupin's words seemed drawn out like an echo. I surrender. The words sounded incredible. The others were expecting to see him vanish suddenly down a trap or a panel of the walls to fall back and once more to hide him from his assailants. And he surrendered. Ganima stepped forward, and greatly excited, with all the gravity that the act demanded, brought his hands slowly down upon his adversary's shoulder and enjoyed the infinite satisfaction of saying, Lupin, I arrest you. You make me feel quite overcome, my dear Ganima. What a solemn face. One would think you were making a speech over a friend's grave. Calm. Drop these funerial airs. I arrest you. You seem quite flabbergasted. In the name of the law, of which he is a faithful limp, chief inspector Ganima, arrests Wigt Arsène Dupin. It is an historic moment, and you grasp its full importance. And this is the second time a similar fact occurs. Bravo, Ganima! You will do well in your career. And he held out his wrists for the handcuffs. They were fastened on almost solemnly. The detectives, in spite of their usual roughness and the bitterness of their resentment against Lupin, acted with reserve and discretion, astounded as they were at being allowed to touch that intangible being. My prulu pa, he sighed. What would your smart friend say if they saw you humbled like this? He separated his wrists with a growing and continuous effort of every muscle. The veins on his forehead swelled. The links of the chain dug into his skin. Now then, he said, the chain snapped and broke in two. Another mate's this one's no good. They put two pairs on him. He approved. That's better. You can't be too careful. Then, counting the detectives, he continued. How many of you are there, my friends? 25? 30? That's a lot. I can't do anything against 30. Ha! If there had been only 15 of you. He really had a manner about him. The manner of a great actor playing his instinctive, spirited part, impertinently and frivolously. Cheers watched him as a man watches a fine sight of which he is able to appreciate every beauty and every shade. And he absolutely received the strange impression that the struggle was an equal one between those 30 men, on the one hand, backed up by all the formidable machinery of the law, and that single being on the other, fettered and unarmed. The two sides were evenly matched. Well, maître, said Lupin, this is your work. Thanks to you, Lupin is going to rot on the damp straw of the cells. Confess that your conscience is not quite easy and that you feel the pains of remorse. The Englishman gave an involuntary shrug as though to say you had the chance. Never, never, explained Lupin, give you back the Blue Diamond. Ha! No! It has cost me too much trouble already. I value it, you see. At the first visit I have the honor of paying you in London. Next month, I dare say, I will tell you why. But shall you be in London next month? Would you rather I met you in Vienna or St. Petersburg? He started. Suddenly, an electric bell rang just below the ceiling. And this time, it was not the alarm bell, but the bell of the telephone, which had not been removed, and which stood between the two windows. The telephone? Ha! Who was going to fall into the trap laid by an odious chance? Arsène Lupin made a furious move toward the instrument, as though he would have smashed it to atoms, and in doing so, stifled the unknown voice that wished to speak to him. But Ganyma took the receiver from its hook, and bent down. Hello? Hello? 64873. Yes, that's right. With a brisk gesture of authority, shears pushed him aside, took the two receivers, and put his handkerchief over the mouthpiece to make the sound of his voice less distinct. At that moment, he glanced at Lupin. And the look which they exchanged showed them that the same thought had struck them both, and that they both foresaw to the end the consequences of that possible, probable, almost certain supposition. It was the blonde lady telephoning. She thought that she was telephoning to Félix David, or rather Maxime Bermond, and she was about to confide in homelock shears. And the Englishman repeated, Hello? Hello? A pause and shears. Yes, it's I, Maxime. The drama took shape forthwith, with tragic precision. Lupin, the mocking, indomitable Lupin, no longer even thought of concealing his anxiety, and, with features pale as death, strove to hear, to guess. And shears continued, and replied to the mysterious voice. Yes, yes, it's all finished, and I was just getting ready to come on to you as arranged. Where? Why? Where you are? Isn't that best? He hesitated, seeking his words, and then stopped. It was evident that he was trying to draw out the girl without saying too much himself, and that he had not the least idea where she was. Besides, Garimard's presence seemed to hinder him. Oh, if some miracle could have cut the thread of that diabolical conversation. Lupin called for it with all his might, with all his trained nerves. And shears went on. Hello? Hello? Can't you hear? It's very bad at this end too, and I can hardly make out. Can you hear me now? Well, on certain thoughts. You had better go home. Oh no, there's no danger at all. Wow, he's in England. I've had a telegram from Southampton. The irony of the words. Shears uttered them with an inexpressible sense of satisfaction. And he added, So go at once, dear, and I shall be with you soon. He hung up the receivers. Monsieur Garimard, I propose to borrow three of your men. It's for the blonde lady, I suppose. Yes. Do you know who she is? Where she is? Yes. By Jove. A fine catcher. She and Lupin. That completes the day's work. For l'enfant, take two men and go with Mr. Shears. The Englishman walked away, followed by the three detectives. The end had come. The blonde lady also was about to fall into Shears' hands. Thanks to his wonderful persistency, thanks to the aid of fortunate events, the battle was turning to victory for him, an irreparable disaster for Lupin. Mr. Shears, the Englishman stopped. Yes, Monsieur Lupin? No. Lupin seemed completely crushed by this last blow. His forehead was wrinkled. He was worn out and gloomy. Yet he drew himself up with a revival of energy, and, in spite of all, exclaim in a voice of glad unconcerned. You must admit that fate is dead against me. Just now it prevented me from escaping by the chimney and delivered me into your hands. This moment it has made use of the telephone to make you a present of the blonde lady. I bow before its decrees. Meaning? Meaning that I am prepared to reopen negotiations. Shears took the inspector aside and begged permission, but in a tone that allowed of no refusal, to exchange a few words with Lupin. Then he walked across to him. The momentous conversation took place. It opened in short, nervous phrases. What do you want? Mademoiselle de Stange's liberty. You know the price? Yes. And you agree. I agree to all your conditions. Ha! exclaimed the astonished Englishman. But you refuse just now, for yourself. It was a question of myself, Mr. Shears. Now it involves a woman, and a woman whom I love. You see, we have very peculiar ideas about these things in France, and it does not follow that, because a man's name is Lupin, who will act differently. On the contrary. He said this quite simply. Shears gave him an imperceptible nod, and whispered. Where's the blue diamond? Take my cane, over there, in the chimney corner. Hold the knob in one hand, and turn the iron ferrule with the other. Shears took the cane, turned the ferrule, and, as he turned it, perceived that the knob became unscrewed. Inside the knob was a ball of putty. Inside the putty, a diamond. He examined it. It was the blue diamond. Mademoiselle de Stange's free, Mr. Lupin. Free in the future, as in the present? She has nothing to fear from you? Nor from anyone else. Whatever happens? Whatever happens? I have forgotten her name, and where she lives. Thank you, and au revoir, for we shall meet again, Mr. Shears. Shall we not? I have no doubt we shall. A more or less heated explanation followed between the Englishman and Ganyma, and was cut short by Shears with a certain roughness. I am very sorry, Mr. Ganyma, that I can't agree with you, but I have no time to persuade you now. I leave for England in an hour. But the blonde lady? I know no such person. Only a moment ago. You must take it or leave it. I have already caught Lupin for you. Here's the blue diamond, which you may have the pleasure of handing to the Countess yourself. I can see that you have anything to complain of. But the blonde lady? Find her. He settled his head on his head, and walked away with a brisk step, like a gentleman who has no time to loiter once his business is done. Goodbye, Matra, cried Lupin. And a pleasant journey. I shall always remember the quarry or relations between us, my kind regards to Mr. Wilson. He received no reply, and chuckled. That's what we call taking English leave. Huh, those worthy islanders do not possess that elegant curtsy which distinguishes us. Just think, Ganyma, of the exit which a Frenchman would have made in similar circumstances, under what exquisite politeness would he not have concealed his triumph. But Lord bless my soul, Ganyma. What are you doing? Well, I never a search. But there's nothing left, my poor friend, not a scrap of paper. My archives have been moved to a place of safety. One can never tell. Lupin looked on in resignation. Held by two inspectors, and surrounded by all the rest, he patiently watched the various operations. But, after twenty minutes his side, come along, Ganyma, you'll never be finished at this rate. Are you in a great hurry? Yes, I should think I was. I have an important engagement. At the police station? No, in town. At what time? At two o'clock. It's past three. Exactly, I shall be late. And there's nothing I detest so much as being late. Will you give me five minutes? Not a minute longer. You're too good. I'll try. Don't talk so much. What, that cup or two? Why, it's empty. There are some letters for all that. Old bills. No, a bundle done up in ribbon. A pink ribbon, is it? Oh, Ganyma, don't untie it for heaven's sake. Are they from a woman? Yes. A lady? Rather. What's her name? Mademoiselle Ganyma. Very witty, oh, very witty, cried the inspector in an affected tone. At that moment the man returned from the other rooms, and declared that their search had led to nothing. Lupin began to laugh. Of course not. Did you expect to find a list of my friends or a proof of my relations with the German Emperor? What you ought to have looked for, Ganyma, are the little mysteries of this flat. For instance, that gas pipe is a speaking tube. The chimney contains a staircase. This wall here is hollow, and such a tangle of bell wires. Look here, Ganyma. Just press that button. Ganyma did as he was asked. Did you hear anything? No. Nor I. And yet you have instructed the captain of my balloon park to get ready the airship, which is soon to carry us up to the sky. Come, said Ganyma, who has finished his inspection. Enough of this nonsense. Let us start. He took a few steps, followed by his men. Lupin did not budge a foot's breadth. His custodians pushed him, in vain. Well, said Ganyma, do you refuse to come? Not at all. Then it all depends. Depends on what? On where you're taking me. To the police station, of course. Then I shan't come. I have nothing to do at the station. You're mad. Didn't I tell you I had an important engagement? Lupin, come, Ganyma. The blonde lady must be getting quite anxious about me. And do you think I could have the rudeness to keep her waiting? It would not be the conduct of a gentleman. Listen to me, Lupin, said the inspector, who was beginning to lose his temper under all this chaff. So far I have treated you with excessive consideration. But there are limits. Follow me. Impossible. I have an engagement, and that engagement I mean to keep. For the last time, impossible. Ganyma made a sign. Two men seized Lupin under the arms and lifted him from the floor. But they dropped him at once with howls of pain. With his two hands, Arsène Lupin had dug two long needles into their flesh. Maddened with rage, the others rushed upon him, wrecking their hatred at last, burning to avenge their comrades and themselves, for the numberless of French put upon them, and they reigned a shower of blows upon his body. One blow, more violent than the rest, struck him on the temple. He fell to the floor. If you hurt him, growled Ganyma angrily, you'll have me to deal with. He bent over Lupin, prepared to assist him. But finding that he was breathing freely, he told the men to take Lupin by the head and feet, while he himself supported his hips. Slowly now, gently, don't jolt him. Why, you brute, you might have killed him. Well, Lupin, how do you feel? Lupin opened his eyes and stammered. Not up to much, Ganyma. You shouldn't have let them knock me about. That shit is your own fault, with your obstinacy, replied Ganyma in real distress. But you're not hurt. They reached the landing, Lupin moaned. Ganyma, the lift, don't break my bones. Good idea, capital idea, agreed the inspector. Besides, the stairs are so narrow, it would be impossible. He got the lift up. They laid Lupin on the seat, with every imaginable precaution. Ganyma sat down beside him, and said to his men, Go down the stairs at once. Wait for me by the porter's lodge. Do you understand? He shut the door. But it was hardly closed when shelter rose. The lift had shot up, like a balloon with its rope cut. A sredonic laugh rang out. Damnation, roared Ganyma, feeling frantically in the dark for the lever, and failing to find it, he shouted. The fifth floor. Watch the door on the fifth floor. The detectives rushed upstairs, four steps at a time. But a strange thing happened. The lift seemed to shoot right through the ceiling of the top floor. This appeared before the detectives' eyes, and suddenly emerged on the upper story, where the servants' bedrooms were, and stopped. Three men were in waiting, and opened the door. Two of them overpowered Ganyma, who, hampered in his movements, and completely bewildered, hardly thought of defending himself. The third helped Lupin out. I told you, Ganyma, carried off by balloon. And thanks to you, next time you must show less compassion. And above all, remember that Ascendupin does not allow himself to be bashed and mauled about, without good reasons. Good-bye! The lift door was already closed, and the lift, with Ganyma inside, sent back on its journey toward the ground floor. And all this was done so expeditiously, that the old detective caught up his subordinates at the door of the porter's lodge. Without a word, they hurried across the courtyard, and up the servant's staircase, the only means of communication with the floor by which the escape had been effected. A long passage, with many windings, lined with small, numbered rooms, led to a door which had been simply left ajar. Beyond this door, and, consequently, in another house, was another passage, also with a number of turns, and lined with similar rooms. Right at the end was a servant's staircase. Ganyma went down it, crossed the yard, a hole, and rushed into a street, the Hupiko. Then he understood. The two houses were built back to back, and their fronds faced two streets, running not at right angles, but parallel, with a distance of over 60 yards between them. He entered the porter's lodge and showed his card. Have four men just gone out? Yes, the two servants of the Fourth and Fifth Wars, with two friends. Who lives on the Fourth and Fifth Wars? Two gentlemen of the name of Fovell, and their cousins, the Povo. They moved this morning. Only the two servants remained. They have just gone. Ah, thought Ganyma, sinking onto a sofa in the lodge. What a fine stroke we have missed. The whole gang occupied this rabid warren. Forty minutes later, two gentlemen drove up in a cab to the Gardunor, and hurried towards the Kalei Express, followed by a porter carrying their bags. One of them had his arm in a sling, and his face was pale and drawn. The others seemed in great spirits. Come along, Wilson. You won't do to miss the train. Oh, Wilson, I shall never forget these ten days. No more shall I. What a fine series of battles. Magnificent. A regrettable incident here and there, but of very slight importance. Very slight, as you say. And lastly, victory, all along the line. Lupin arrested. The blue diamond recovered. My arm broken. With the success of this kind, what does a broken arm matter? Especially mine. Especially yours. Remember, Wilson, it was at the very moment when you were the chemists, suffering like a hero, that I discovered the clue that guided me through the darkness. What a piece of luck. The doors were being locked. Take your seats, please. Hurry up, gentlemen. The porter climbed into an empty compartment and placed the bags in the rack, while shears hoisted the unfortunate Wilson in. What are you doing, Wilson? Hurry up, old chap. Pull yourself together, do. It's not for want of pulling myself together. What then? I can only use one hand. Well, cried shears gaily. What a fuss you make. One would think you were the only man in your plight. What about the fellows who have really lost an arm? Well, are you settled? Thank goodness for that. He gave the porter a half-frank piece. Here, my men. That's for you. Thank you, Mr. Shears. The Englishman raised his eyes. Arsene Lupin. You! You! He blurted in his bewilderment, and Wilson stammered, waving his one hand with the gestures of a man-proving effect. You! You! But you're arrested. Shears told me so. When he left you, Gunymar and his thirty detectives had you surrounded. Lupin crossed his arm with an air of indignation. So you thought I would let you go without coming to see you off? After the excellent, friendly relations which we never cease to keep up. Why? It would have been unspeakably rude. What do you take me for? The engine whistled. However, I forgive you. Have you all you want? Tobacco matches? That's right. And the evening papers. You will find the details of my arrest in them. Your last exploit, Maître. And now, au revoir. And delighted to have made your acquaintance. Delighted, I mean it. And if ever I can do anything for you, I shall be only too pleased. He jumped down to the platform and closed the door. Goodbye, he cried again, waving his handkerchief. Goodbye, I'll write to you. Mind you write too. Let me know how the broken arm is, Mr. Wilson. I shall expect to hear from both of you. Just a picture postcard now and then. Lupin, Paris, will always find me. It's quite enough. Never mind about stamping the letters. Goodbye, see you soon, I hope. End of chapter 6.