The Blonde Lady
The Blonde LadyFIRST EPISODECHAPTER ICHAPTER IICHAPTER IIICHAPTER IVCHAPTER VCHAPTER VISECOND EPISODECHAPTER ICHAPTER IICopyright
The Blonde Lady
Maurice Leblanc
FIRST EPISODE
THE BLONDE LADY
CHAPTER I
NUMBER 514, SERIES 23On the 8th of December last, M. Gerbois, professor of
mathematics at Versailles College, rummaging among the stores at a
second-hand dealer's, discovered a small mahogany writing-desk,
which took his fancy because of its many drawers."That's just what I want for Suzanne's birthday," he
thought.M. Gerbois' means were limited and, anxious as he was to
please his daughter, he felt it his duty to beat the dealer down.
He ended by paying sixty-five francs. As he was writing down his
address, a well-groomed and well-dressed young man, who had been
hunting through the shop in every direction, caught sight of the
writing-desk and asked:"How much for this?""It's sold," replied the dealer."Oh ... to this gentleman?"M. Gerbois bowed and, feeling all the happier that one of his
fellow-men envied him his purchase, left the shop. But he had not
taken ten steps in the street before the young man caught him up
and, raising his hat, said, very politely:"I beg a thousand pardons, sir ... I am going to ask you an
indiscreet question.... Were you looking for this desk rather than
anything else?""No. I went to the shop to see if I could find a cheap set of
scales for my experiments.""Therefore, you do not want it very
particularly?""I want it, that's all.""Because it's old I suppose?""Because it's useful.""In that case, would you mind exchanging it for another desk,
quite as useful, but in better condition?""This one is in good condition and I see no point in
exchanging it.""Still ..."M. Gerbois was a man easily irritated and quick to take
offense. He replied curtly:"I must ask you to drop the subject, sir."The young man placed himself in front of him."I don't know how much you paid, sir ... but I offer you
double the price.""No, thank you.""Three times the price.""Oh, that will do," exclaimed the professor, impatiently.
"The desk belongs to me and is not for sale."The young man stared at him with a look that remained
imprinted on M. Gerbois' memory, then turned on his heel, without a
word, and walked away.An hour later, the desk was brought to the little house on
the Viroflay Road where the professor lived. He called his
daughter:"This is for you, Suzanne; that is, if you like
it."Suzanne was a pretty creature, of a demonstrative temperament
and easily pleased. She threw her arms round her father's neck and
kissed him as rapturously as though he had made her a present fit
for a queen.That evening, assisted by Hortense the maid, she carried up
the desk to her room, cleaned out the drawers and neatly put away
her papers, her stationery, her correspondence, her picture
postcards and a few secret souvenirs of her cousin
Philippe.M. Gerbois went to the college at half-past seven the next
morning. At ten o'clock Suzanne, according to her daily custom,
went to meet him at the exit; and it was a great pleasure to him to
see her graceful, smiling figure waiting on the pavement opposite
the gate.They walked home together."And how do you like the desk?""Oh, it's lovely! Hortense and I have polished up the brass
handles till they shine like gold.""So you're pleased with it?""I should think so! I don't know how I did without it all
this time."They walked up the front garden. The professor
said:"Let's go and look at it before lunch.""Yes, that's a good idea."She went up the stairs first, but, on reaching the door of
her room, she gave a cry of dismay."What's the matter?" exclaimed M. Gerbois.He followed her into the room. The writing-desk was
gone.What astonished the police was the wonderful simplicity of
the means employed. While Suzanne was out and the maid making her
purchases for the day, a ticket-porter, wearing his badge, had
stopped his cart before the garden, in sight of the neighbours, and
rung the bell twice. The neighbours, not knowing that the servant
had left the house, suspected nothing, so that the man was able to
effect his object absolutely undisturbed.This fact must be noted: not a cupboard had been broken open,
not so much as a clock displaced. Even Suzanne's purse, which she
had left on the marble slab of the desk, was found on the adjacent
table, with the gold which it contained. The object of the theft
was clearly determined, therefore, and this made it the more
difficult to understand; for, after all, why should a man run so
great a risk to secure so trivial a spoil?The only clue which the professor could supply was the
incident of the day before:"From the first, that young man displayed a keen annoyance at
my refusal; and I have a positive impression that he left me under
a threat."It was all very vague. The dealer was questioned. He knew
neither of the two gentlemen. As for the desk, he had bought it for
forty francs at Chevreuse, at the sale of a person deceased, and he
considered that he had re-sold it at a fair price. A persistent
inquiry revealed nothing further.But M. Gerbois remained convinced that he had suffered an
enormous loss. A fortune must have been concealed in some secret
drawer and that was why the young man, knowing of the hiding-place,
had acted with such decision."Poor father! What should we have done with the fortune?"
Suzanne kept saying."What! Why, with that for your dowry, you could have made the
finest match going!"Suzanne aimed at no one higher than her cousin Philippe, who
had not a penny to bless himself with, and she gave a bitter sigh.
And life in the little house at Versailles went on gaily, less
carelessly than before, shadowed over as it now was with regret and
disappointment.Two months elapsed. And suddenly, one after the other, came a
sequence of the most serious events, forming a surprising run of
alternate luck and misfortune.On the 1st of February, at half-past five, M. Gerbois, who
had just come home, with an evening paper in his hand, sat down,
put on his spectacles and began to read. The political news was
uninteresting. He turned the page and a paragraph at once caught
his eye, headed:"THIRD DRAWING OF THE PRESS-ASSOCIATION LOTTERY""First prize, 1,000,000 francs: No. 514, Series
23."The paper dropped from his hands. The walls swam before his
eyes and his heart stopped beating. Number 514, series 23, was the
number of his ticket! He had bought it by accident, to oblige one
of his friends, for he did not believe in luck; and now he had
won!He took out his memorandum-book, quick! He was quite right:
number 514, series 23, was jotted down on the fly-leaf. But where
was the ticket?He flew to his study to fetch the box of stationery in which
he had put the precious ticket away; and he stopped short as he
entered and staggered back, with a pain at his heart: the box was
not there and—what an awful thing!—he suddenly realized that the
box had not been there for weeks."Suzanne! Suzanne!"She had just come in and ran up the stairs hurriedly. He
stammered, in a choking voice:"Suzanne ... the box ... the box of
stationery....""Which one?""The one I bought at Louvre ... on a Thursday ... it used to
stand at the end of the table.""But don't you remember, father?... We put it away
together....""When?""That evening ... you know, the day before....""But where?... Quick, tell me ... it's more than I can
bear....""Where?... In the writing-desk.""In the desk that was stolen?""Yes.""In the desk that was stolen!"He repeated the words in a whisper, with a sort of terror.
Then he took her hand, and lower still:"It contained a million, Suzanne....""Oh, father, why didn't you tell me?" she murmured
innocently."A million!" he repeated. "It was the winning number in the
press lottery."The hugeness of the disaster crushed them and, for a long
time, they maintained a silence which they had not the courage to
break. At last Suzanne said:"But, father, they will pay you all the same.""Why? On what evidence?""Does it require evidence?""Of course!""And have you none?""Yes, I have.""Well?""It was in the box.""In the box that has disappeared?""Yes. And the other man will get the money.""Why, that would be outrageous! Surely, father, you can stop
the payment?""Who knows? Who knows? That man must be extraordinarily
clever! He has such wonderful resources.... Remember ... think how
he got hold of the desk...."His energy revived; he sprang up and, stamping his foot on
the floor."No, no, no," he shouted, "he shan't have that million, he
shan't! Why should he? After all, sharp as he may be, he can do
nothing, either. If he calls for the money, they'll lock him up!
Ah, we shall see, my friend!""Have you thought of something, father?""I shall defend our rights to the bitter end, come what may!
And we shall succeed!... The million belongs to me and I mean to
have it!"A few minutes later, he dispatched this
telegram:"Governor,"Crédit Foncier,"Rue Capucines,"Paris."Am owner number 514, series 23; oppose by every legal method
payment to any other person."Gerbois."At almost the same time, the Crédit Foncier received another
telegram:"Number 514, series 23, is in my possession."Arsène Lupin."Whenever I sit down to tell one of the numberless adventures
which compose the life of Arsène Lupin, I feel a genuine
embarrassment, because it is quite clear to me that even the least
important of these adventures is known to every one of my readers.
As a matter of fact, there is not a move on the part of "our
national thief," as he has been happily called, but has been
described all over the country, not an exploit but has been studied
from every point of view, not an action but has been commented upon
with an abundance of detail generally reserved for stories of
heroic deeds.Who, for instance, does not know that strange case of the
blonde lady, with the curious episodes which were reported under
flaring headlines as "NUMBER 514, SERIES 23!" ... "THE MURDER IN
THE AVENUE HENRI-MARTIN!" ... and "THE BLUE DIAMOND!" ... What an
excitement there was about the intervention of Holmlock Shears, the
famous English detective! What an effervescence surrounded the
varying fortunes that marked the struggle between those two great
artists! And what a din along the boulevards on the day when the
newsboys shouted:"Arrest of Arsène Lupin!"My excuse is that I can supply something new: I can furnish
the key to the puzzle. There is always a certain mystery about
these adventures: I can dispel it. I reprint articles that have
been read over and over again; I copy out old interviews: but all
these things I rearrange and classify and put to the exact test of
truth. My collaborator in this work is Arsène Lupin himself, whose
kindness to me is inexhaustible. I am also under an occasional
obligation to the unspeakable Wilson, the friend and confidant of
Holmlock Shears.My readers will remember the Homeric laughter that greeted
the publication of the two telegrams. The name of Arsène Lupin
alone was a guarantee of originality, a promise of amusement for
the gallery. And the gallery, in this case, was the whole
world.An inquiry was immediately set on foot by the Crédit Foncier
and it was ascertained that number 514, series 23, had been sold by
the Versailles branch of the Crédit Lyonnais to Major Bressy of the
artillery. Now the major had died of a fall from his horse; and it
appeared that he told his brother officers, some time before his
death, that he had been obliged to part with his ticket to a
friend."That friend was myself," declared M. Gerbois."Prove it," objected the governor of the Crédit
Foncier."Prove it? That's quite easy. Twenty people will tell you
that I kept up constant relations with the major and that we used
to meet at the café on the Place d'Armes. It was there that, one
day, to oblige him in a moment of financial embarrassment, I took
his ticket off him and gave him twenty francs for it.""Have you any witnesses to the transaction?""No.""Then upon what do you base your claim?""Upon the letter which he wrote me on the
subject.""What letter?""A letter pinned to the ticket.""Produce it.""But it was in the stolen writing-desk!""Find it."The letter was communicated to the press by Arsène Lupin. A
paragraph inserted in theÉcho de
France—which has the honour of being his
official organ and in which he seems to be one of the principal
shareholders—announced that he was placing in the hands of Maître
Detinan, his counsel, the letter which Major Bressy had written to
him, Lupin, personally.There was a burst of delight: Arsène Lupin was represented by
counsel! Arsène Lupin, respecting established customs, had
appointed a member of the bar to act for him!The reporters rushed to interview Maître Detinan, an
influential radical deputy, a man endowed with the highest
integrity and a mind of uncommon shrewdness, which was, at the same
time, somewhat skeptical and given to paradox.Maître Detinan was exceedingly sorry to say that he had never
had the pleasure of meeting Arsène Lupin, but he had, in point of
fact, received his instructions, was greatly flattered at being
selected, keenly alive to the honour shown him and determined to
defend his client's rights to the utmost. He opened his brief and
without hesitation showed the major's letter. It proved the sale of
the ticket, but did not mention the purchaser's name. It began, "My
dear friend," simply."'My dear friend' means me," added Arsène Lupin, in a note
enclosing the major's letter. "And the best proof is that I have
the letter."The bevy of reporters at once flew off to M. Gerbois, who
could do nothing but repeat:"'My dear friend' is no one but myself. Arsène Lupin stole
the major's letter with the lottery-ticket.""Tell him to prove it," was Lupin's rejoinder to the
journalists."But he stole the desk!" exclaimed M. Gerbois in front of the
same journalists."Tell him to prove it!" retorted Lupin once
again.And a delightful entertainment was provided for the public by
this duel between the two owners of number 514, series 23, by the
constant coming and going of the journalists and by the coolness of
Arsène Lupin as opposed to the frenzy of poor M.
Gerbois.Unhappy man! The press was full of his lamentations! He
confessed the full extent of his misfortunes in a touchingly
ingenuous way:"It's Suzanne's dowry, gentlemen, that the villain has
stolen!... For myself, personally, I don't care; but for Suzanne!
Just think, a million! Ten hundred thousand francs! Ah, I always
said the desk contained a treasure!"He was told in vain that his adversary, when taking away the
desk, knew nothing of the existence of the lottery-ticket and that,
in any case, no one could have foreseen that this particular ticket
would win the first prize. All he did was to moan:"Don't talk to me; of course he knew!... If not, why should
he have taken the trouble to steal that wretched
desk?""For unknown reasons, but certainly not to get hold of a
scrap of paper which, at that time, was worth the modest sum of
twenty francs.""The sum of a million! He knew it.... He knows everything!...
Ah, you don't know the sort of a man he is, the ruffian!... He
hasn't defrauded you of a million, you see!..."This talk could have gone on a long time yet. But, twelve
days later, M. Gerbois received a letter from Arsène Lupin, marked
"Private and confidential," which worried him not a
little:Dear Sir"The gallery is amusing itself at our expense. Do you not
think that the time has come to be serious? I, for my part, have
quite made up my mind."The position is clear: I hold a ticket which I am not
entitled to cash and you are entitled to cash a ticket which you do
not hold. Therefore neither of us can do anything without the
other."Now you would not consent to surrenderyourrights tomenor I to give upmyticket toyou."What are we to do?"I see only one way out of the difficulty: let us divide.
Half a million for you, half a million for me. Is not that fair?
And would not this judgment of Solomon satisfy the sense of justice
in each of us?"I propose this as an equitable solution, but also an
immediate solution. It is not an offer which you have time to
discuss, but a necessity before which circumstances compel you to
bow. I give you three days for reflection. I hope that, on Friday
morning, I may have the pleasure of seeing a discreet advertisement
in the agony-column of theÉcho de
France, addressed to 'M. Ars. Lup.' and
containing, in veiled terms, your unreserved assent to the compact
which I am suggesting to you. In that event, you will at once
recover possession of the ticket and receive the million, on the
understanding that you will hand me five hundred thousand francs in
a way which I will indicate hereafter."Should you refuse, I have taken measures that will produce
exactly the same result; but, apart from the very serious trouble
which your obstinacy would bring upon you, you would be the poorer
by twenty-five thousand francs, which I should have to deduct for
additional expenses."I am, dear sir,"Very respectfully yours,"Arsène Lupin."M. Gerbois, in his exasperation, was guilty of the colossal
blunder of showing this letter and allowing it to be copied. His
indignation drove him to every sort of folly:"Not a penny! He shall not have a penny!" he shouted before
the assembled reporters. "Share what belongs to me? Never! Let him
tear up his ticket if he likes!""Still, half a million francs is better than
nothing.""It's not a question of that, but of my rights; and those
rights I shall establish in a court of law.""Go to law with Arsène Lupin? That would be
funny!""No, but the Crédit Foncier. They are bound to hand me the
million.""Against the ticket or at least against evidence that you
bought it?""The evidence exists, seeing that Arsène Lupin admits that he
stole the desk.""What judge is going to take Arsène Lupin's
word?""I don't care, I shall go to law!"The gallery was delighted. Bets were made, some people being
certain that Lupin would bring M. Gerbois to terms, others that he
would not go beyond threats. And the people felt a sort of
apprehension; for the adversaries were unevenly matched, the one
being so fierce in his attacks, while the other was as frightened
as a hunted deer.On Friday, there was a rush for theÉcho de
Franceand the agony-column on the fifth page was
scanned with feverish eyes. There was not a line addressed to "M.
Ars. Lup." M. Gerbois had replied to Arsène Lupin's demands with
silence. It was a declaration of war.That evening the papers contained the news that Mlle. Gerbois
had been kidnapped.The most delightful factor in what I may call the Arsène
Lupin entertainment is the eminently ludicrous part played by the
police. Everything passes outside their knowledge. Lupin speaks,
writes, warns, orders, threatens, carries out his plans, as though
there were no police, no detectives, no magistrates, no impediment
of any kind in existence. They seem of no account to him whatever.
No obstacle enters into his calculations.And yet the police struggle to do their best. The moment the
name of Arsène Lupin is mentioned, the whole force, from top to
bottom, takes fire, boils and foams with rage. He is the enemy, the
enemy who mocks you, provokes you, despises you, or, even worse,
ignores you. And what can one do against an enemy like
that?According to the evidence of the servant, Suzanne went out at
twenty minutes to ten. At five minutes past ten, her father, on
leaving the college, failed to see her on the pavement where she
usually waited for him. Everything, therefore, must have taken
place in the course of the short twenty minutes' walk which brought
Suzanne from her door to the college, or at least quite close to
the college.Two neighbours declared that they had passed her about three
hundred yards from the house. A lady had seen a girl walking along
the avenue whose description corresponded with Suzanne's. After
that, all was blank.Inquiries were made on every side. The officials at the
railway-stations and the customs-barriers were questioned. They had
seen nothing on that day which could relate to the kidnapping of a
young girl. However, a grocer at Ville-d'Avray stated that he had
supplied a closed motor-car, coming from Paris, with petrol. There
was a chauffeur on the front seat and a lady with fair
hair—exceedingly fair hair, the witness said—inside. The car
returned from Versailles an hour later. A block in the traffic
compelled it to slacken speed and the grocer was able to perceive
that there was now another lady seated beside the blonde lady whom
he had seen first. This second lady was wrapped up in veils and
shawls. No doubt it was Suzanne Gerbois.Consequently, the abduction must have taken place in broad
daylight, on a busy road, in the very heart of the town! How? At
what spot? Not a cry had been heard, not a suspicious movement
observed.The grocer described the car, a Peugeot limousine, 24
horse-power, with a dark blue body. Inquiries were made, on chance,
of Mme. Bob-Walthour, the manageress of the Grand Garage, who used
to make a specialty of motor-car elopements. She had, in fact, on
Friday morning, hired out a Peugeot limousine for the day to a
fair-haired lady, whom she had not seen since."But the driver?""He was a man called Ernest, whom I engaged the day before on
the strength of his excellent testimonials.""Is he here?""No, he brought back the car and has not been here
since.""Can't we get hold of him?""Certainly, by applying to the people who recommended him. I
will give you the addresses."The police called on these persons. None of them knew the man
called Ernest.And every trail which they followed to find their way out of
the darkness led only to greater darkness and denser
fogs.M. Gerbois was not the man to maintain a contest which had
opened in so disastrous a fashion for him. Inconsolable at the
disappearance of his daughter and pricked with remorse, he
capitulated. An advertisement which appeared in theÉcho de Franceand aroused general
comment proclaimed his absolute and unreserved surrender. It was a
complete defeat: the war was over in four times twenty-four
hours.Two days later, M. Gerbois walked across the courtyard of the
Crédit Foncier. He was shown in to the governor and handed him
number 514, series 23. The governor gave a start:"Oh, so you have it? Did they give it back to
you?""I mislaid it and here it is," replied M.
Gerbois."But you said.... There was a question....""That's all lies and tittle-tattle.""But nevertheless we should require some corroborative
document.""Will the major's letter do?""Certainly.""Here it is.""Very well. Please leave these papers with us. We are allowed
a fortnight in which to verify them. I will let you know when you
can call for the money. In the meanwhile, I think that you would be
well-advised to say nothing and to complete this business in the
most absolute silence.""That is what I intend to do."M. Gerbois did not speak, nor the governor either. But there
are certain secrets which leak out without any indiscretion having
been committed, and the public suddenly learnt that Arsène Lupin
had had the pluck to send number 514, series 23, back to M.
Gerbois! The news was received with a sort of stupefied admiration.
What a bold player he must be, to fling so important a trump as the
precious ticket upon the table! True, he had parted with it
wittingly, in exchange for a card which equalized the chances. But
suppose the girl escaped? Suppose they succeeded in recapturing his
hostage?The police perceived the enemy's weak point and redoubled
their efforts. With Arsène Lupin disarmed and despoiled by himself,
caught in his own toils, receiving not a single sou of the coveted
million ... the laugh would at once be on the other
side.But the question was to find Suzanne. And they did not find
her, nor did she escape!"Very well," people said, "that's settled: Arsène has won the
first game. But the difficult part is still to come! Mlle. Gerbois
is in his hands, we admit, and he will not hand her over without
the five hundred thousand francs. But how and where is the exchange
to take place? For the exchange to take place, there must be a
meeting; and what is to prevent M. Gerbois from informing the
police and thus both recovering his daughter and keeping the
money?"The professor was interviewed. Greatly cast down, longing
only for silence, he remained impenetrable:"I have nothing to say; I am waiting.""And Mlle. Gerbois?""The search is being continued.""But Arsène Lupin has written to you?""No.""Do you swear that?""No.""That means yes. What are his instructions?""I have nothing to say."Maître Detinan was next besieged and showed the same
discretion."M. Lupin is my client," he replied, with an affectation of
gravity. "You will understand that I am bound to maintain the most
absolute reserve."All these mysteries annoyed the gallery. Plots were evidently
hatching in the dark. Arsène Lupin was arranging and tightening the
meshes of his nets, while the police were keeping up a watch by day
and night round M. Gerbois. And people discussed the only three
possible endings: arrest, triumph, or grotesque and pitiful
failure.But, as it happened, public curiosity was destined to be only
partially satisfied; and the exact truth is revealed for the first
time in these pages.On Thursday, the 12th of March, M. Gerbois received the
notice from the Crédit Foncier, in an ordinary
envelope.At one o'clock on Friday, he took the train for Paris. A
thousand notes of a thousand francs each were handed to him at
two.While he was counting them over, one by one, with trembling
hands—for was this money not Suzanne's ransom?—two men sat talking
in a cab drawn up at a short distance from the main entrance. One
of these men had grizzled hair and a powerful face, which
contrasted oddly with his dress and bearing, which was that of a
small clerk. It was Chief-Inspector Ganimard, old Ganimard, Lupin's
implacable enemy. And Ganimard said to Detective-Sergeant
Folenfant:"The old chap won't be long ... we shall see him come out in
five minutes. Is everything ready?""Quite.""How many are we?""Eight, including two on bicycles.""And myself, who count as three. It's enough, but not too
many. That Gerbois must not escape us at any price ... if he does,
we're diddled: he'll meet Lupin at the place they have agreed upon;
he'll swap the young lady for the half-million; and the trick's
done.""But why on earth won't the old chap act with us? It would be
so simple! By giving us a hand in the game, he could keep the whole
million.""Yes, but he's afraid. If he tries to jockey the other, he
won't get his daughter back.""What other?""Him."Ganimard pronounced this word "him" in a grave and rather
awe-struck tone, as though he were speaking of a supernatural being
who had already played him a nasty trick or two."It's very strange," said Sergeant Folenfant, judiciously,
"that we should be reduced to protecting that gentleman against
himself.""With Lupin, everything is upside down," sighed
Ganimard.A minute elapsed."Look out!" he said.M. Gerbois was leaving the bank. When he came to the end of
the Rue des Capucines, he turned down the boulevard, keeping to the
left-hand side. He walked away slowly, along the shops, and looked
into the windows."Our friend's too quiet," said Ganimard. "A fellow with a
million in his pocket does not keep so quiet as all
that.""What can he do?""Oh, nothing, of course.... No matter, I mistrust him. It's
Lupin, Lupin...."At that moment M. Gerbois went to a kiosk, bought some
newspapers, took his change, unfolded one of the sheets and, with
outstretched arms, began to read, while walking on with short
steps. And, suddenly, with a bound, he jumped into a motor-cab
which was waiting beside the curb. The power must have been on, for
the car drove off rapidly, turned the corner of the Madeleine and
disappeared."By Jupiter!" cried Ganimard. "Another of his
inventions!"He darted forward and other men, at the same time as himself,
ran round the Madeleine. But he burst out laughing. The motor-car
had broken down at the beginning of the Boulevard Malesherbes and
M. Gerbois was getting out."Quick, Folenfant ... the driver ... perhaps it's the man
called Ernest."Folenfant tackled the chauffeur. It was a man called Gaston,
one of the motor-cab company's drivers; a gentleman had engaged him
ten minutes before and had told him to wait by the newspaper-kiosk,
"with steam up," until another gentleman came."And what address did the second fare give?" asked
Folenfant."He gave me no address.... 'Boulevard Malesherbes ... Avenue
de Messine ... give you an extra tip': that's all he
said."During this time, however, M. Gerbois, without losing a
minute, had sprung into the first passing cab:"Drive to the Concorde tube-station!"The professor left the tube at the Place du Palais-Royal,
hurried into another cab and drove to the Place de la Bourse. Here
he went by tube again, as far as the Avenue de Villiers, where he
took a third cab:"25, Rue Clapeyron!"No. 25, Rue Clapeyron, is separated from the Boulevard des
Batignolles by the house at the corner. The professor went up to
the first floor and rang. A gentleman opened the door."Does Maître Detinan live here?""I am Maître Detinan. M. Gerbois, I presume?""That's it.""I was expecting you. Pray come in."When M. Gerbois entered the lawyer's office, the clock was
striking three and he at once said:"This is the time he appointed. Isn't he here?""Not yet."M. Gerbois sat down, wiped his forehead, looked at his watch
as though he did not know the time and continued,
anxiously:"Will he come?"The lawyer replied:"You are asking me something, sir, which I myself am most
curious to know. I have never felt so impatient in my life. In any
case, if he comes, he is taking a big risk, for the house has been
closely watched for the past fortnight.... They suspect
me.""And me even more," said the professor. "I am not at all sure
that the detectives set to watch me have been thrown off my
track.""But then....""It would not be my fault," cried the professor, vehemently,
"and he can have nothing to reproach me with. What did I promise to
do? To obey his orders. Well, I have obeyed his orders blindly: I
cashed the ticket at the time which he fixed and came on to you in
the manner which he ordered. I am responsible for my daughter's
misfortune and I have kept my engagements in all good faith. It is
for him to keep his." And he added, in an anxious voice, "He will
bring back my daughter, won't he?""I hope so.""Still ... you've seen him?""I? No. He simply wrote asking me to receive you both, to
send away my servants before three o'clock and to let no one into
my flat between the time of your arrival and his departure. If I
did not consent to this proposal, he begged me to let him know by
means of two lines in theÉcho de
France. But I am only too pleased to do Arsène
Lupin a service and I consent to everything."M. Gerbois moaned:"Oh, dear, how will it all end?"He took the bank-notes from his pocket, spread them on the
table and divided them into two bundles of five hundred each. Then
the two men sat silent. From time to time, M. Gerbois pricked up
his ears: wasn't that a ring at the door-bell?... His anguish
increased with every minute that passed. And Maître Detinan also
experienced an impression that was almost painful.For a moment, in fact, the advocate lost all his composure.
He rose abruptly from his seat:"We shan't see him.... How can we expect to?... It would be
madness on his part! He trusts us, no doubt: we are honest men,
incapable of betraying him. But the danger lies
elsewhere."And M. Gerbois, shattered, with his hands on the notes,
stammered:"If he would only come, oh, if he would only come! I would
give all this to have Suzanne back."The door opened."Half will do, M. Gerbois."Some one was standing on the threshold—a young man,
fashionably dressed—and M. Gerbois at once recognized the person
who had accosted him outside the curiosity-shop. He leapt toward
him:"And Suzanne? Where is my daughter?"Arsène Lupin closed the door carefully and, quietly
unbuttoning his gloves, said to the lawyer:"My dear maître, I can never thank you sufficiently for your
kindness in consenting to defend my rights. I shall not forget
it."Maître Detinan could only murmur:"But you never rang.... I did not hear the
door....""Bells and doors are things that have to do their work
without ever being heard. I am here all the same; and that is the
great thing.""My daughter! Suzanne! What have you done with her?" repeated
the professor."Heavens, sir," said Lupin, "what a hurry you're in! Come,
calm yourself; your daughter will be in your arms in a
moment."He walked up and down the room and then, in the tone of a
magnate distributing praises:"I congratulate you, M. Gerbois, on the skilful way in which
you acted just now. If the motor hadn't had that ridiculous
accident we should simply have met at the Étoile and saved Maître
Detinan the annoyance of this visit.... However, it was destined
otherwise!"He caught sight of the two bundles of bank-notes and
cried:"Ah, that's right! The million is there!... Let us waste no
time.... Will you allow me?""But," said Maître Detinan, placing himself in front of the
table, "Mlle. Gerbois is not here yet.""Well?""Well, isn't her presence indispensable?""I see, I see! Arsène Lupin inspires only a partial
confidence. He pockets his half-million, without restoring the
hostage. Ah, my dear maître, I am sadly misunderstood! Because fate
has obliged me to perform acts of a rather ... special character,
doubts are cast upon my good faith ... mine! I, a man all scruples
and delicacy!... However, my dear maître, if you're afraid, open
your window and call out. There are quite a dozen detectives in the
street.""Do you think so?"Arsène Lupin raised the blind:"I doubt if M. Gerbois is capable of throwing Ganimard off
the scent.... What did I tell you? There he is, the dear old
chap!""Impossible!" cried the professor. "I swear to you,
though....""That you have not betrayed me?... I don't doubt it, but the
fellows are clever. Look, there's Folenfant!... And Gréaume!... And
Dieuzy!... All my best pals, what?"Maître Detinan looked at him in surprise. What calmness! He
was laughing with a happy laugh, as though he were amusing himself
at some child's game, with no danger threatening him.This carelessness did even more than the sight of the
detectives to reassure the lawyer. He moved away from the table on
which the bank-notes lay.Arsène Lupin took up the two bundles one after the other,
counted twenty-five notes from each of them and, handing the lawyer
the fifty bank-notes thus obtained, said:"M. Gerbois' share of your fee, my dear maître, and Arsène
Lupin's. We owe you that.""You owe me nothing," said Maître Detinan."What! After all the trouble we've given you!""You forget the pleasure it has been to me to take that
trouble.""You mean to say, my dear maître, that you refuse to accept
anything from Arsène Lupin. That's the worst," he sighed, "of
having a bad reputation." He held out the fifty thousand francs to
the professor. "Monsieur, let me give you this in memory of our
pleasant meeting: it will be my wedding-present to Mlle.
Gerbois."M. Gerbois snatched at the notes, but protested:"My daughter is not being married.""She can't be married if you refuse your consent. But she is
dying to be married.""What do you know about it?""I know that young ladies often cherish dreams without Papa's
consent. Fortunately, there are good geniuses, called Arsène Lupin,
who discover the secret of those charming souls hidden away in
their writing-desks.""Did you discover nothing else?" asked Maître Detinan. "I
confess that I am very curious to know why that desk was the object
of your attentions.""Historical reasons, my dear maître. Although, contrary to M.
Gerbois' opinion, it contained no treasure beyond the
lottery-ticket, of which I did not know, I wanted it and had been
looking for it for some time. The desk, which is made of yew and
mahogany, decorated with acanthus-leaf capitals, was found in Marie
Walewska's discreet little house at Boulogne-sur-Seine and has an
inscription on one of the drawers: 'Dedicated to
Napoleon I., Emperor of the French, by his most faithful servant,
Mancion.