

THE LIBRARY


CLASS BOOK J C


THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
A‘


THE
CRYSTAL STOPPER
An Arséne Lupin .Mystery
BY
MAURICE LEBLANC
AUTHOR OF
Arsine Lupin Super.Sleuth
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THE MACAULAY COMPANY
NEW YORK


Copyright, 1913, by
MAURICE LEBLANC
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AMERICAN—JOURNAL-EXAMINER C0.


THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
CHAPTER I
THE ARRESTS
HE two boats fastened to the little pier that j utted
out from the garden lay rocking in its shadow.
Here and there lighted windows showed through the
thick mist on the margins of the lake. The Enghien
Casino opposite blazed with light, though it was late
in the season, the end of September. A few stars ap-
peared through the clouds. A light breeze ruﬂled the
surface of the water.
Arséne Lupin left the summer-house where he was
smoking a cigar and, bending forward at the end of the
pier:
“Growler?” he asked. “Masher? . . . Are you
there?”
A man rose from each of the boats, and one of them
answered:
“Yes, governor. ”
“Get ready. I hear the car coming with Gilbert
and Vaucheray.”
He crossed the garden, walked round a house in proc-
ess of construction, the scaffolding of which loomed
overhead, and cautiously opened the door on the Ave-
nue de Ceinture. He was not mistaken: a bright light
ﬂashed round the bend and a large, open motor-car drew
3


4 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
up, whence sprang two men in great-coats, with the
collars turned up, and caps.
It was Gilbert and Vaucheray: Gilbert, a young fellow
of twenty or twenty-two, with an attractive cast of
features and a supple and sinewy frame; Vaucheray,
older, shorter, with grizzled hair and a pale, sickly face.
“Well,” asked Lupin, “did you see him, the deputy?”
“Yes, governor,” said Gilbert, “we saw him take the
7.40 train for Paris, as we knew he would.”
“Then we are free to act?”
“Absolutely. The Villa Marie-Thérése is ours to do
as we please with.”
The chauﬁeur had kept his seat. Lupin gave him his
orders:
“Don’t wait here. It might attract attention. Be
back at half-past nine exactly, in time to load the car
. . . unless the whole business falls through.”
“Why should it fall through?” observed Gilbert.
The motor drove away; and Lupin, taking the road
to the lake with his two companions, replied:
“Why? Because I didn’t prepare the plan; and,
when I don’t do a thing myself, I am only half-
conﬁdent.”
“Nonsense, governor! I’ve been working with you
for three years now. . . . I’m beginning to know
the ropes!”
“Yes, my lad, you’re beginning,’ said Lupin, “and
that’s just why I’m afraid of blunders. . . . Here,
get in with me. . . . And you, Vaucheray, take the
other boat . . . That’s it. . . . And now push
off, boys . . . and make as little noise as you can.”
Growler and Masher, the two oarsmen, made straight
for the opposite bank, a little to the left of the casino.
They met a boat containing a couple locked in each
,


THE ARRESTS 5
other’s arms, ﬂoating at random, and another in which
a number of people were singing at the top of their
voices. And that was all.
Lupin shifted closer to his companion and said, under
his breath:
“Tell me, Gilbert, did you think of this job, or was it
Vaucheray’s idea?”
“Upon my word, I couldn’t tell you: we’ve both of
us been discussing it for weeks.”
“The thing is, I don’t trust Vaucheray: he’s
a low ruﬂian when one gets to know him . . . I
can’t make out why I don’t get rid of him
“Oh, governor!”
“Yes, yes, I mean what I say: he’s a dangerous fellow,
to say nothing of the fact that he has some rather serious
peccadilloes on his conscience.”
He sat silent for a moment and continued:
“So you’re quite sure that you saw Daubrecq the
deputy?”
“Saw him with my own eyes, governor.”
“And you know that he has an appointment in Paris?”
“He’s going to the theatre.”
“Very well; but his servants have remained behind
at the Enghien villa . . .”
“The cook has been sent away. As for the valet,
Léonard, who is Daubrecq’s conﬁdential man, he’ll
wait for his master in Paris. They can’t get back from
town before one o’clock in the morning. But . .”
“But what?”
“We must reckon with a possible freak of fancy on
Daubrecq’s part, a change of mind, an unexpected re-
turn, and so arrange to have everything ﬁnished and
done with in an hour.”
“And when did you get these details?”


6 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
“This morning. Vaucheray and I at once thought
that it was a favourable moment. I selected the garden
of the unﬁnished house which we have just left as the
best place to start from; for the house is not watched at
night. I sent for two mates to row the boats; and I
telephoned to you. That’s the whole story.”
“Have you the keys? ”
“ The keys of the front-door.”
“Is that the villa which I see from here, standing in
its own grounds?”
“Yes, the Villa Marie-Thérese; and as the two others,
with the gardens touching it on either side, have been
unoccupied since this day week, we shall be able to
remove what we please at our leisure; and I swear to
you, governor, it’s well worth while.”
“The job’s much too simple,” mumbled Lupin. “ No
charm about it!” ‘
They landed in a little creek whence rose a few stone
steps, under cover of a mouldering roof. Lupin reﬂected
that shipping the furniture would be easy work. But,
suddenly, he said:
“There are people at the villa. Look . . . a
ﬁght. ”
“It’s a gas-jet, governor. The light’s not moving.”
The Growler stayed by the boats, with instructions to
keep watch, while the Masher, the other rower, went to
the gate on the Avenue de Ceinture, and Lupin and his
two companions crept in the shadow to the foot of the
steps.
Gilbert went up ﬁrst. Groping in the dark, he inserted
ﬁrst the big door-key and then the latch-key. Both
turned easily in their locks, the door opened and the
three men walked in.
A gas-jet was ﬂaring in the hall.


THE ARRESTS 7
“You see, governor . . .” said Gilbert.
“Yes, yes,” said Lupin, in a low voice, “but it seems
to me that the light which I saw shining did not come
from here. . ”
“Where did it come from then?”
“I can’t say. . . . Is this the drawing-room?”
“No,” replied Gilbert, who was not afraid to speak
pretty loudly, “no. By way of precaution, he keeps
everything on the ﬁrst ﬂoor, in his bedroom and in the
two rooms on either side of it.”
“And where is the staircase?”
“On the right, behind the curtain.”
Lupin moved to the curtain and was drawing the
hanging aside when, suddenly, at four steps on the left,
a door opened and a head appeared, a pallid man’s head,
with terriﬁed eyes.
“Help! Murder!” shouted the man.
And he rushed back into the room.
“It’s Léonard, the valet!” cried Gilbert.
“If he makes a fuss, I’ll out him,” growled Vauch-
eray.
“You’ll jolly well do nothing of the sort, do you hear,
Vaucheray?” said Lupin, peremptorily.
And he darted oﬁ in pursuit of the servant. He ﬁrst
went through a dining-room, where he saw a lamp still
lit, with plates and a bottle around it, and he found
Léonard at the further end of a pantry, making vain
eﬁorts to open the window:
“Don’t move, sportie! No kid! Ah, the brute!
He had thrown himself ﬂat on the ﬂoor, on seeing
Léonard raise his arm at him. Three shots were
ﬁred in the dusk of the pantry; and then the valet came
tumbling to the ground, seized by the legs by Lupin,


8 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
who snatched his weapon from him and gripped him
by the throat:
“Get out, you dirty brute!” he growled. “ He very
nearly did for me. . . . Here, Vaucheray, secure
7!
this gentleman! . . .
He threw the light of his pocket-lanter n on the ser-
vant’s face and chuckled:
“He’s not a pretty gentleman either. . . . You
can’t have a very clear conscience, Léonard; besides, to
play ﬂunkey to Daubrecq the deputy . . . ! Have
you ﬁnished, Vaucheray? I don’t want to hang about
here for ever!”
“There’s no danger, governor," said Gilbert.
“Oh, really? . . . So you think that shots can’t
beheard? . . .”
“Quite impossible. ”
“No matter, we must look sharp. Vaucheray, take
the lamp and let’s go upstairs.”
He took Gilbert by the arm and, as he dragged him
to the ﬁrst ﬂoor:
“You ass,” he said, “is that the way you make in-
quiries? Wasn’t I right to have my doubts?”
“Look here, governor, I couldn’t know that he would
change his mind and come back to dinner. ”
“One’s got to know everything when one has the
honour of breaking into people’s houses. You num-
skull! I’ll remember you and Vaucheray . . . a
nice pair of gossoons! . ”
The sight of the furniture on the ﬁrst ﬂoor paciﬁed
Lupin and he started on his inventory with the satisﬁed
air of a collector who has looked in to treat himself to a
few works of art:
“By Jingo! There’s not much of it, but what there is
is pucka! There’s nothing the matter with this rep-


THE ARRESTS 9
resentative of the people in the question of taste.
Four Aubusson chairs. . . . A bureau signed ‘Per-
cier-Fontaine,’ for a wager. . . . Two inlays by
Gouttiéres . . . A genuine Fragonard and a sham
Nattier which any American millionaire will swallow
for the asking: in short, a fortune. . . . And there
are curmudgeons who pretend that there’s nothing but
faked stuﬂ left. Dash it all, why don’t they do as I do?
They should look about!”
Gilbert and Vaucheray, following Lupin’s orders and
instructions, at once proceeded methodically to remove
the bulkier pieces. The ﬁrst boat was ﬁlled in half an
hour;and it was decided that the Growler and the Masher
should go on ahead and begin to load the motor-car.
Lupin went to see them start. On returning to the
house, it struck him, as he passed through the hall, that
he heard a voice in the pantry. He went there and
found Léonard lying ﬂat on his stomach, quite alone,
with his hands tied behind his back:
“So it’s you growling, my conﬁdential ﬂunkey?
Don’t get excited: it’s almost ﬁnished. Only, if you
make too much noise, you’ll oblige us to take severer
measures. . . . Do you like pears? We might
give you one, you know: a choke-pear! . ”
As he went upstairs, he again heard the same sound
and, stopping to listen, he caught these words, uttered
in a hoarse, groaning voice, which came, beyond a doubt,
from the pantry:
“Help! . . . Murder! . . . Help!
I shall be killed! . . . Inform the commissary!
”
“The fellow’s clean oﬂ his chump!” muttered Lupin.
“By Jove! . . . To disturb the police at nine
o’clock in the evening: there’s a notion for you!”


10 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER

He set to work again. It took longer than he expected,
for they discovered in the cupboards all sorts of valuable
knickknacks which it would have been very wrong to
disdain and, on the other hand, Vaucheray and Gilbert
were going about their investigations with signs of
laboured concentration that nonplussed him.
At long last, he lost his patience:
“That will do!” he said. “We’re not going to spoil
the whole job and keep the motor waiting for the sake
of the few odd bits that remain. I’m taking the boat. ”
They were now by the waterside and Lupin went
down the steps. Gilbert held him back:
“ I say, governor, we want one more look round
ﬁve minutes, no longer.”
“But what for, dash it all?”
“Well, it’s like this: we were told of an old reliquary,
something stunning . ”
(( 7’
“We can’t lay our hands on it. And I was thinking
. There’s a cupboard with a big lock to it in the
pantry. . . . You see, we can’t very well . . Q”
He was already on his way to the villa. Vaucheray
ran back too.
“I’ll give you ten minutes, not a second longer!”
cried Lupin. “In ten minutes, I’m off.”
But the ten minutes passed and he was still waiting.
He looked at his watch:
“A quarter-past nine,” he said to himself. “ This is
madness.”
And he also remembered that Gilbert and Vaucheray
had behaved rather queerly throughout the removal of
the things, keeping close together and apparently
watching each other. What could be happening?
Lupin mechanically returned to the house, urged by


THE ARRESTS I!
a feeling of anxiety which he was unable to explain; and,
at the same time, he listened to a dull sound which rose
in the distance, from the direction of Enghien, and which
seemed to be coming nearer. . . . People strolling
about, no doubt . . .
He gave a sharp whistle and then went to the main
gate, to take a glance down the avenue. But, suddenly,
as he was opening the gate, a shot rang out, followed by
a yell of pain. He returned at a run, went round the
house, leapt up the steps and rushed to the dining-room:
“Blast it all, what are you doing there, you two?”
Gilbert and Vaucheray, locked in a furious embrace,
were rolling on the ﬂoor, uttering cries of rage. Their
clothes were dripping with blood. Lupin ﬂew at them
to separate them. But already Gilbert had got his
adversary down and was wrenching out of his hand
something which Lupin had no time to see. And
Vaucheray, who was losing blood through a wound in
the shoulder, fainted.
“Who hurt him? You, Gilbert?” asked Lupin,
furiously.
“M, Léonard.”
“Léonard? Why, he was tied up!”
“He undid his fastenings and got hold of his revolver.”
“The scoundrel! Where is he?”
Lupin took the lamp and went into the pantry.
The man-servant was lying on his back, with his arms
outstretched, a dagger stuck in his throat and a livid
face. A red stream trickled from his mouth.
“Ah,” gasped Lupin, after examining him, “he’s
dead!"
“Do you think so? . . . Do you think so?”
stammered Gilbert, in a trembling voice.
“He’s dead, I tell you.”


12 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
“It was Vaucheray . . . it was Vaucheray who
did it . . .”
Pale with anger, Lupin caught hold of him:
“It was Vaucheray, was it? . . . And you too,
you blackguard, ‘since you were there and didn’t stop
him! . . . Blood! Blood! You know I won’t have
it. . . . Well, it’s a bad lookout for you, my
ﬁne fellows. . . . You’ll have to pay the damage!
And you won’t get off cheaply either. . . . Mind
the guillotine!” And, shaking him violently, “What
was it? Why did he kill him?”
“He wanted to go through his pockets and take the
key of the cupboard from him. When he stooped over
him, he saw that the man had unloosed his arms.
He got frightened . . . and he stabbed him. . . .”
“ But the revolver-shot? ’ ’
“It was Léonard . . . he had his revolver in his
hand . . . he just had strength to take aim be-
fore he died . . .”
“And the key of the cupboard?”
“Vaucheray took it ”
“Did he open it?”
“Yes.”
“And did he ﬁnd what he was after? ”
‘i'Yes.,I
“And you wanted to take the thing from him. What
sort of thing was it? . . . The reliquary? No, it
was too small for that. . . . Then what was it?
Answer me, will you? . . .”
Lupin gathered from Gilbert’s silence and the de-
termined expression on his face that he would not obtain
a reply. With a threatening gesture, he said:
“I’ll make you talk, my man. Sure as my name’s
Lupin, you shall come out with it. But, for the moment,


THE ARRESTS 13
we must see about decamping. Here, help me.
We must get Vaucheray into the boat . . .”
They had returned to the dining-room and Gilbert
was bending over the wounded man, when Lupin
stopped him:
“Listen.”
They exchanged one look of alarm. . . . Some
one was speaking in the pantry . . . a very low,
strange, very distant voice. . . . Nevertheless, as
they at once made certain, there was no one in the room,
no one except the dead man, whose dark outline lay
stretched upon the ﬂoor.
And the voice spake anew, by turns shrill, stiﬂed,
bleating, stammering, yelling, fearsome. It uttered in-
distinct words, broken syllables.
Lupin felt the top of his head covering with perspi-
ration. What was this incoherent voice, mysterious as a
voice from beyond the grave?
He had knelt down by the man-servant’s side. The
voice was silent and then began again:
“ Give us a better light,” he said to Gilbert.
He was trembling a little, shaken with a nervous
dread which he was unable to master, for there was no
doubt possible: when Gilbert had removed the shade
from the lamp, Lupin realized that the voice issued from
the corpse itself, without a movement of the lifeless mass,
without a quiver of the bleeding mouth.
“Governor, I’ve got the shivers,” stammered Gilbert.
Again the same voice, the same snuﬂiing whisper.
Suddenly, Lupin burst out laughing, seized the corpse
and pulled it aside:
“Exactly!” he said, catching sight of an object made
of polished metal. “Exactly! That’s it! . . . Well,
upon my word, it took me long enough!”


14, THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
On the spot on the ﬂoor which he had uncovered
lay the receiver of a telephone, the cord of which ran
up to the apparatus ﬁxed on the wall, at the usual
height.
Lupin put the receiver to his ear. The noise began
again at once, but it was a mixed noise, made up of
diﬁerent calls, exclamations, confused cries, the noise
produced by a number of persons questioning one
another at the same time.
“Are you there? . . . He won’t answer. .
It’s awful. . . . They must have killed him. . . .
What is it? . . . Keep up your courage. . . .
There’s help on the way . . . police . . . sol-
diers . . .”
“Dash it!” said Lupin, dropping the receiver.
The truth appeared to him in a terrifying vision.
Quite at the beginning, while the things upstairs were
being moved, Léonard, whose bonds were not securely
fastened, had contrived to scramble to his feet, to un-
hook the receiver, probably with his teeth, ‘to drop it
and to appeal for assistance to the Enghien telephone-
exchange.
And those were the words which Lupin had overheard,
after the ﬁrst boat started:
“Help! . . . Murder! . . . I shall be killed!
)7
And this was the reply of the exchange. The police
were hurrying to the spot. And Lupin remembered the
sounds which he had heard from the garden, four or ﬁve
minutes earlier, at most:
“The police! Take to your heels!” he shouted, dart—
ing across the dining-room.
“What about Vaucheray?” asked Gilbert.
“Sorry, can’t be helped!”


THE ARRESTS 15
But Vaucheray, waking from his torpor, entreated
him as he passed:
“ Governor, you wouldn’t leave me like this!”
Lupin stopped, in spite of the danger, and was lifting
the wounded man, with Gilbert’s assistance, when a loud
din arose outside:
“Too late!” he said.
At that moment, blows shook the hall-door at the back
of the house. He ran to the front steps: a number of
men had already turned the corner of the house at a rush.
He might have managed to keep ahead of them, with
Gilbert, and reach the waterside. But what chance
was there of embarking and escaping under the enemy’s
ﬁre?
He locked and bolted the door.
“We are surrounded . . . and done for,” splut-
tered Gilbert.
“Hold your tongue,” said Lupin.
“But they’ve seen us, governor. There, they’re
knocking.”
“Hold your tongue,” Lupin repeated. “Not a word.
. Not a movement.”
He himself remained unperturbed, with an utterly calm
face and the pensive attitude of one who has all the time
that he needs to examine a delicate situation from every
point of view. He had reached one of those minutes
which he called the “superior moments of existence,”
those which alone give a value and a price to life. On
such occasions, however threatening the danger, he
always began by counting to himself, slowly— “One.
...Two....Three....Four....
Five. . . . Six”.——until the beating of his heart
became normal and regular. Then and not till then, he
reﬂected, but with what intensity, with what perspi-


16 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
cacity, with what a profound intuition of possibilities! ‘
All the factors of the problem were present in his mind.
He foresaw everything. He admitted everything.
And he took his resolution in all logic and in all
certainty.
After thirty or forty seconds, while the men outside
were banging at the doors and picking the locks, he said
to his companion:
“Follow me.”
Returning to the dining-room, he softly opened the
sash and drew the Venetian blinds of a window in the
side-wall. People were coming and going, rendering
ﬂight out of the question.
Thereupon he began to shout with all his might, in a
breathless voice:
“This way! . . . Help! . . . I’ve got them!
This way!”
He pointed his revolver and ﬁred two shots into the
tree-tops. Then he went back to Vaucheray, bent over
him and smeared his face and hands with the wounded
man’s blood. Lastly, turning upon Gilbert, he took
him violently by the shoulders and threw him to the
ﬂoor.
“What do you want, governor? There’s a nice thing
to do!”
“Let me do as I please,” said Lupin, laying an im—
perative stress on every syllable. “I’ll answer for
everything. . . . I’ll answer for the two of you.
. Let me do as I like with you. . . . I’ll get
you both out of prison. . . . But I can only do
that if I’m free.”
Excited cries rose through the open window.
“This way!” he shouted. “I’ve got them! Help!”
And, quietly, in a whisper:


THE ARRESTS 17
“Just think for a moment. . . . Have you any-
thing to say to me? . ‘ . . Something that can be
of use to us? .”
Gilbert was too much taken aback to understand
Lupin’s plan and he struggled furiously. Vaucheray
showed more intelligence; moreover, he had given up all
hope of escape, because of his wound; and he snarled:
‘Let the governor have his way, you ass! . . . As
long as he gets off, isn’t that the great thing?”
Suddenly, Lupin remembered the article which
Gilbert had put in his pocket, after capturing it
from Vaucheray. He now tried to take it in his turn.
“No, not that! Not if I know it!” growled Gilbert,
managing to release himself.
Lupin ﬂoored him once more. But two men suddenly
appeared at the window; and Gilbert yielded and, hand-
ing the thing to Lupin, who pocketed it without looking
at it, whispered:
“Here you are, governor. . . . I’ll explain.
You can be sure that .”
He did not have time to ﬁnish. . . . Two police-
men and others after them and soldiers who entered
through every door and window came to Lupin’s assist-
ance.
Gilbert was at once seized and ﬁrmly bound. Lupin
withdrew:
“I’m glad you’ve come,” he said. “The beggar’s
given me a lot of trouble. I wounded the other; but
this one . . .”
The commissary of police asked him, hurriedly:
“Have you seen the man-servant? Have they killed
him? ,7
“I don’t know,” he answered.
“You don’t know? . . .”


18 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
“Why, I came with you from Enghien, on hearing
of the murder! Only, while you were going round the
left of the house, I went round the right. There was
a window open. I climbed up just as these two ruﬂians
were about to jump down. I ﬁred at this one,” pointing
to Vaucheray, “and seized hold of his pal.”
How could he have been suspected? He was covered
with blood. He had handed over the valet’s murderers.
Half a score of people had witnessed the end of the
heroic combat which he had delivered.
Besides, the uproar was too great for any one to take
the trouble to argue or to waste time in entertaining
doubts. In the height of the ﬁrst confusion, the people
of the neighbourhood invaded the villa. One and all
lost their heads. They ran to every side, upstairs,
downstairs, to the very cellar. They asked one another
questions, yelled and shouted; and no one dreamt
of checking Lupin’s statements, which sounded so
plausible.
However, the discovery of the body in the pantry
restored the commissary to a sense of his responsibility.
He issued orders, had the house cleared and placed
policemen at the gate to prevent any one from passing
in or out. Then, without further delay, he examined
the spot and began his inquiry.
Vaucheray gave his name; Gilbert refused to give his,
on the plea that he would only speak in the presence of a
lawyer. But, when he was accused of the murder, he
informed against Vaucheray, who defended himself by
denouncing the other; and the two of them vociferated
at the same time, with the evident wish to monopolize
the commissary’s attention. When the commissary
turned to Lupin, to request his evidence, he perceived
that the stranger was no longer there. _
' Y


THE ARRESTS 19
Without the least suspicion, he said to one of the
policemen:
“Go and tell that gentleman that I should like to ask
him a few questions.”
They looked about for the gentleman. Some one had
seen him standing on the steps, lighting a cigarette.
The next news was that he had given cigarettes to a
group of soldiers and strolled toward the lake, saying
that they were to call him if he was wanted.
They called him. N o one replied.
But a soldier came running up. The gentleman had
just got into a boat and was rowing away for all he was
worth. The commissary looked at Gilbert and realized
that he had been tricked:
“Stop him!” he shouted. “Fire on him! He’s an
accomplice! . ”
He himself rushed out, followed by two policemen,
while the others remained with the prisoners. On reach-
ing the bank, he saw the gentleman, a hundred yards
away, taking oﬂ ' his hat to him in the dusk.
One of the policemen discharged his revolver, without
thinking.
The wind carried the sound of words across the water.
The gentleman was singing as he rowed:
“G0, little bark,
Float in the dark . . .”
But the comrnissary saw a skiﬁ fastened to the landing-
stage of the adjoining property. He scrambled over
the hedge separating the two gardens and, after ordering
the soldiers to watch the banks of the lake and to seize
the fugitive if he tried to put ashore, the commissary and
two of his men pulled oﬁ in pursuit of Lupin.


20 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
It was not a diﬂicult matter, for they were able to
follow his movements by the intermittent light of the
moon and to see that he was trying to cross the lake,
while bearing toward the right—that is to say, toward
the village of Saint—Gratien. Moreover, the commissary
soon perceived that, with the aid of his men and thanks
perhaps to the comparative lightness of his craft, he was
rapidly gaining on the other. In ten minutes he had
decreased the interval between them by one half.
“That’s it!” he cried. “We shan’t even need the
soldiers to keep him from landing. I very much want
to make the fellow’s acquaintance. He’s a cool hand
and no mistake!”
The funny thing was that the distance was now di-
minishing at an abnormal rate, as though the fugitive
had lost heart at realizing the futility of the struggle.
The policemen redoubled their efforts. The boat shot
across the water with the swiftness of a swallow. An-
other hundred yards at most and they would reach the
man.
“Halt!” cried the commissary.
The enemy, whose huddled shape they could make
out in the boat, no longer moved. The sculls drifted
with the stream. And this absence of all motion had
something alarming about it. A ruﬁ’ian of that stamp
might easily lie in wait for his aggressors, sell his life
dearly and even shoot them dead before they had a
chance of attacking him.
“Surrender!” shouted the commissary.
The sky, at that moment, was dark. The three men
lay ﬂat at the bottom of their skiff, for they thought they
perceived a threatening gesture.
The boat, carried by its own impetus, was approaching
the other.


THE ARRESTS 21
The commissary growled:
“We won’t let ourselves be sniped. Let’s ﬁre at him.
Are you ready?” And he roared, once more, “Sur-
render . . . if not !”
No reply.
The enemy did not budge.
“Surrender! . . . Hands up! . . . You re-
fuse? . . . So much the worse for you.
I’m counting . . . One. . . . Two .”
The policemen did not wait for the word of command.
They ﬁred and, at once, bending over their oars, gave the
boat so powerful an impulse that it reached the goal in
a few strokes.
The commissary watched, revolver in hand, ready for
the least movement. He raised his arm:
“If you stir, I’ll blow out your brains!”
But the enemy did not stir for a moroent; and, when
the boat was bumped and the two men, letting go their
oars, prepared for the formidable assault, the commis-
sary understood the reason of this passive attitude:
there was no one in the boat. The enemy had escaped
by swimming, leaving in the hands of the victor a certain
number of the stolen articles, which, heaped up and
surmounted by a jacket and a bowler hat, might be
taken, at a pinch, in the semi-darkness, vaguely to rep-
resent the ﬁgure of a man.
They struck matches and examined the enemy’s cast
clothes. There were no initials in the hat. The jacket
contained neither papers nor pocketbook. Neverthe-
less, they made a discovery which was destined to give
the case no little celebrity and which had a terrible in-
ﬂuence on the fate of Gilbert and Vaucheray: in one of
the pockets was a visiting-card which the fugitive had
left behind . . . the card of Arséne Lupin.


22 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
At almost the same moment, while the police, towing
the captured skiﬁ‘ behind them, continued their empty
search and while the soldiers stood drawn up on the
bank, straining their eyes to try and follow the fortunes
of the naval combat, the aforesaid Arséne Lupin was
quietly landing at the very spot which he had left two
hours earlier.
He was there met by his two other accomplices, the
Growler and the Masher, ﬂung them a few sentences
by way of explanation, jumped into the motor-car,
among Daubrecq the deputy’s armchairs and other
valuables, wrapped himself in his furs and drove, by
deserted roads, to his repository at Neuilly, where he
left the chauﬁeur. A taxicab brought him back to
Paris and put him down by the church of Saint-Philippe-
du-Roule, not far from which, in the Rue Matignon, he
had a ﬂat, on the entresol-ﬂoor, of which none of his gang,
excepting Gilbert, knew, a ﬂat with a private entrance.
He was glad to take off his clothes and rub himself down;
for, in spite of his strong constitution, he felt chilled to
the bone. On retiring to bed, he emptied the contents
of his pockets, as usual, on the mantelpiece. It was not
till then that he noticed, near his pocketbook and his
keys, the object which Gilbert had put into his hand at
the last moment.
And he was very much surprised. It was a decanter-
stopper, a little crystal stopper, like those used for the
bottles in a liqueur-stand. And this crystal stopper
had nothing particular about it. The most that Lupin
observed was that the knob, with its many facets, was
gilded right down to the indent. But, to tell the truth,
this detail did not seem to him of a nature to attract
special notice. .
“And it was this bit of glass to which Gilbert and


THE ARRESTS 28
Vaucheray attached such stubborn importance!” he said
to himself. “It was for this that they killed the valet,
fought each other, wasted their time, risked prison
trial . . . the scaffold! . . .”
Too tired to linger further upon this matter, exciting
though it appeared to him, he replaced the stopper on
the chimney-piece and got into bed.
He had bad dreams. Gilbert and Vaucheray were
kneeling on the ﬂags of their cells, wildly stretching out
their hands to him and yelling with fright:
“Help! . . . Help!” they cried.
But, notwithstanding all his eﬁorts, he was unable
to move. He himself was fastened by invisible bonds.
And, trembling, obsessed by a monstrous vision, he
watched the dismal preparations, the cutting of the
condemned men’s hair and shirt-collars the squalid
tragedy . . .
“By Jove!” he said, when he woke after a series of
nightmares. “There’s a lot of bad omens! Fortunately,
we don’t err on the side of superstition. Otherwise
. . !” And he added, “For that matter, we have
a talisman which, to judge by Gilbert and Vaucheray’s
behaviour, should be enough, with Lupin’s help, to
frustrate bad luck and secure the triumph of the good
cause. Let’s have a look at that crystal stopper!”
He sprang out of bed to take the thing and examine
it more closely. An exclamation escaped him. The
crystal stopper had disappeared.


CHAPTER II
mom‘ FROM NINE LEAVES ONE
OTWITHSTANDING my friendly relations with
Lupin and the many ﬂattering proofs of his con-
ﬁdence which he has given me, there is one thing which
I have, never been quite able to fathom, and that is the
organization of his gang.
The existence of the gang is an undoubted fact. Cer-
tain adventures can be explained only by countless acts
of devotion, invincible efforts of energy and powerful
cases of complicity, representing so many forces which
all obey one mighty will. But how is this will exerted?
Through what intermediaries, through what subordi-
nates? That is what I do not know. Lupin keeps his
secret; and the secrets which Lupin chooses to keep are,
so to speak, impenetrable.
The only supposition which I can allow myself to
make is that this gang, which, in my opinion, is very
limited in numbers and therefore all the more formidable,
is completed and extended indeﬁnitely by the addition
of independent units, provisional associates, picked up
in every class of society and in every country of the
world, who are the executive agents of an authority with
which, in many cases, they are not even acquainted.
The companions, the initiates, the faithful adherents —
men who play the leading parts under the direct com-
mand of Lupin — move to and fro between these
secondary agents and the master.
2‘


EIGHT FROM NINE LEAVES ONE 25
Gilbert and Vaucheray evidently belonged to the
main gang. And that is why the law showed itself so
implacable in their regard. For the ﬁrst time, it held
accomplices of Lupin in its clutches — declared, undis-
puted accomplices— and those accomplices had com-
mitted a murder. If the murder was premeditated, if
the accusation of deliberate homicide could be supported
by substantial proofs, it meant the scaffold. Now there
was, at the very least, one self-evident proof, the cry for
assistance which Léonard had sent over the telephone
a few minutes before his death:
“Help! . . . Murder! . . . I shall be
killed! . . .”
The desperate appeal had been heard by two men, the
operator on duty and one of his fellow-clerks, who swore
to it positively. And it was in consequence of this
appeal that the commissary of police, who was at once
informed, had proceeded to the Villa Marie-Thérese,
escorted by his men and a number of soldiers oﬂ
duty.
Lupin had a very clear notion of the danger from
the ﬁrst. The ﬁerce struggle in which he had on—
gaged against society was entering upon a new and
terrible phase. His luck was turning. It was no longer
a matter of attacking others, but of defending himself
and saving the heads of his two companions.
A little memorandum, which I have copied from one of
the note-books in which he often jots down a summary
of the situations that perplex him, will show us the
workings of his brain:
“One deﬁnite fact, to begin with, is that Gilbert and
Vaucheray humbugged me. The Enghien expedition,
undertaken ostensibly with the object of robbing the


26 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
Villa Marie-Therése, had a secret purpose. This pur-
pose obsessed their minds throughout the operations; and
what they were looking for, under the furniture and in
the cupboards, was one thing and one thing alone: the
crystal stopper. Therefore, if I want to see clear ahead,
I must ﬁrst of all know what this means. It is certain
that, for some hidden reason, that mysterious piece of
glass possesses an incalculable value in their eyes. And
not only in theirs, for, last night, some one was bold
enough and clever enough to enter my ﬂat and steal the
object in question from me.”
This theft of which he was the victim puzzled Lupin
curiously.
Two problems, both equally difficult of solution,
presented themselves to his mind. First, who was the
mysterious visitor? Gilbert, who enjoyed his entire
conﬁdence and acted as his private secretary, was the
only one who knew of the retreat in the Rue Ma—
tignon. Now Gilbert was in prison. Was Lupin to
suppose that Gilbert had betrayed him and put the
police on his tracks? In that case, why were they con-
tent with taking the crystal stopper, instead of arresting
him, Lupin?
But there was something much stranger still. Ad-
mitting that they had been able to force the doors of his
ﬂat — and this he was compelled to admit, though there
was no mark to show it ——how had they succeeded in
entering the bedroom? He turned the key and pushed
the bolt as he did every evening, in accordance with a
habit from which he never departed. And, nevertheless
—the fact was undeniable—the crystal stopper had
disappeared without the lock or the bolt having been
touched. And, although Lupin ﬂattered himself that


EIGHT FROM NINE LEAVES ONE 27
he had sharp ears, even when asleep, not a sound had
waked him!
He took no great pains to probe the mystery. He
knew those problems too well to hope that this one
could be solved other than in the course of events. But,
feeling very much put out and exceedingly uneasy, he
then and there locked up his entresol ﬂat in the Rue
Matignon and swore that he would never set foot in it
again.
And he applied himself forthwith to the question of
corresponding with Vaucheray or Gilbert.
Here a fresh disappointment awaited him. It was so
clearly understood, both at the Santé Prison and at the
Law Courts, that all communication between Lupin
and the prisoners must be absolutely prevented, that
a multitude of minute precautions were ordered by
the prefect of police and minutely observed by the
lowest subordinates. Tried policemen, always the
same men, watched Gilbert and Vaucheray, day and
night, and never let them out of their sight.
Lupin, at this time, had not yet promoted himself to
the crowning honour of his career, the post of chief of the
detective-service,* and, consequently, was not able to
take steps at the Law Courts to insure the execution
of his plans. After a fortnight of fruitless endeavours,
he was obliged to how.
He did so with a raging heart and a growing sense of
anxiety.
“The diﬂicult part of a business,” he often says, “is
not the ﬁnish, but the start.”
Where was he to start in the present circumstances?
What road was he to follow?
‘See 813, by Mam'ioe Leblanc, translated by Alexander Teixeira de
I08-


98 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
His thoughts recurred to Daubrecq the deputy, the
original owner of the crystal stopper, who probably
knew its importance. On the other hand, how was
Gilbert aware of the doings and mode of life of Dau—
brecq the deputy? What means had he employed to
keep him under observation? Who had told him of the
place where Daubrecq spent the evening of that day?
These were all interesting questions to solve.
Daubrecq had moved to his winter quarters in Paris
immediately after the burglary at the Villa Marie-
Thérése and was now living in his own house, on the left-
hand side of the little Square Lamartine that opens out
at the end of the Avenue VictonHugo.
First disguising himself as an old gentleman of private
means, strolling about, cane in hand, Lupin spent his
time in the neighbourhood, on the benches of the square
and the avenue. He made a discovery on the ﬁrst day.
Two men, dressed as workmen, but behaving in a man-
ner that left no doubt as to their aims, were watching
the deputy’s house. When Daubrecq went out, they
set off in pursuit of him; and they were immediately
behind him when he came home again. At night, as
soon as the lights were out, they went away.
Lupin shadowed them in his turn. They were de-
tective-oﬂicers.
“Hullo, hullo!” he said to himself. “This is hardly
what I expected. So the Daubrecq bird is under sus-
picion?”
But, on the fourth day, at nightfall, the two men were
joined by six others, who conversed with them in the
darkest part of the Square Lamartine. And, among
these new arrivals, Lupin was vastly astonished to rec-
ognize, by his ﬁgure and bearing, the famous Prasville,
the erstwhile barrister, sportsman and explorer, now


EIGHT FROM NINE LEAVES ONE 29
favourite at the Elysée, who, for some mysterious reason,
had been pitchforked into the headquarters of police as
secretary-general, with the reversion of the prefecture.
And, suddenly, Lupin remembered: two years ago,
Prasville and Daubrecq the deputy had had a personal
encounter on the Place du Palais-Bourbon. The in—
cident made a great stir at the time. No one knew the
cause of it. Prasville had sent his seconds to Daubrecq
on the same day; but Daubrecq refused to ﬁght.
A little while later, Prasville was appointed secretary-
general.
“Very odd, very odd,” said Lupin, who remained
plunged in thought, while continuing to observe Pras-
ville’s movements.
At seven o’clock Prasville’s group of men moved
away a few yards, in the direction of the Avenue Henri-
Martin. The door of a small garden on the right of the
house opened and Daubrecq appeared. The two de-
tectives followed close behind him and, when he took
the Rue-Taitbout tram, jumped on after him.
Prasville at once walked across the square and rang
the bell. The garden-gate was between the house and the
porter’s lodge. The portress came and opened it.
There was a brief conversation, after which Prasville and
his companions were admitted.
“A domiciliary visit,” said Lupin. “Secret and
illegal. By the strict rules of politeness, I ought to be
invited. My presence is indispensable.”
Without the least hesitation he went up to the house,
the door of which had not been closed, and, passing in
front of the portress, who was casting her eyes outside,
he asked, in the hurried tones of a person who is late for
an appointment:
“Have the gentlemen come?”


30 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
“Yes, you will ﬁnd them in the study.”
His plan was quite simple: if any one met him, he
would pretend to be a tradesman. But there was no
need for this subterfuge. He was able, after crossing
an empty hall, to enter a dining-room which also had
no one in it, but which, through the panes of a glass
partition that separated the dining-room from the study,
afforded him a view of Prasville and his ﬁve companions.
Prasville opened all the drawers with the aid of false
keys. Next, he examined all the papers, while his
companions took down the books from the shelves,
shook the pages of each separately and felt inside the
bindings.
“Of course, it’s a paper they’re looking for,” said
Lupin. “Bank-notes, perhaps .”
Prasville exclaimed:
“What rot! We shan’t ﬁnd a thing! . . .”
Yet he obviously did not abandon all hope of discover-
ing what he wanted, for he suddenly seized the four
bottles in a liqueur-stand, took out the four stoppers
and inspected them.
“Hullo!” thought Lupin. “Now he’s going for
decanter-stoppers! Then it’s not a question of a paper?
Well, I give it up.”
Prasville next lifted and examined different objects;
and he asked:
“How often have you been here?”
“Six times last winter,” was the reply.
“And you have searched the house thoroughly?”
“Every one of the rooms, for days at a time, while he
was visiting his constituency.”
“Still . . . still . . .” And he added, “Has
he no servant at present? ”
“No, he is looking for one. He has his meals out and


EIGHT FROM NINE LEAVES ONE 31
the portress keeps the house as best she can. The
woman is devoted to us .”
Prasville persisted in his investigations for nearly an
hour and a half, shifting and ﬁngering all the knick-
knacks, but taking care to put everything back exactly
where he found it. At nine o’clock, however, the two
detectives who had followed Daubrecq burst into the
study:
“He’s coming back!”
“On foot?”
I‘ Yes.7,
“Have we time?”
“Oh, dear, yes!”
Prasville and the men from the police-oﬂice withdrew,
without undue haste, after taking a last glance round
the room to make sure that there was nothing to betray
their visit.
The position was becoming critical for Lupin. He
ran the risk of knocking up against Daubrecq, if he went
away, or of not being able to get out, if he remained.
But, on ascertaining that the dining-room windows
aﬂ'orded a direct means of exit to the square, he resolved
to stay. Besides, the opportunity of obtaining a close
view of Daubrecq was too good to refuse; and, as Dau-
brecq had been out to dinner, there was not much chance
of his entering the dining-room.
Lupin, therefore, waited, holding himself ready to
hide behind a velvet curtain that could be drawn across
the glazed partition in case of need.
He heard the sound of doors opening and shutting.
Some one walked into the study and switched on the
light. He recognized Daubrecq.
The deputy was a stout, thickset, bull-necked man,
very nearly bald, with a fringe of gray whiskers round


82 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
his chin and wearing a pair of black eye-glasses under his
spectacles, for his eyes were weak and strained. Lupin
noticed the powerful features, the square chin, the prom-
inent cheek-bones. The hands were brawny and cov-
ered with hair, the legs bowed; and he walked with a
stoop, bearing ﬁrst on one hip and then on the other,
which gave him something of the gait of a gorilla.
But the face was topped by an enormous, lined forehead,
indented with hollows and dotted with bumps.
There was something bestial, something savage,
something repulsive about the man’s whole personality.
Lupin remembered that, in the Chamber of Deputies,
Daubrecq was nicknamed“The Wild Man of the Woods”
and that he was so labelled not only because he stood
aloof and hardly ever mixed with his fellow-members,
but also because of his appearance, his behaviour, his
peculiar gait and his remarkable muscular development.
He sat down to his desk, took a meerschaum pipe
from his pocket, selected a packet of caporal among
several packets of tobacco which lay drying in a bowl,
tore open the wrapper, ﬁlled his pipe and lit it. Then
he began to write letters.
Presently he ceased his work and sat thinking, with
his attention ﬁxed on a spot on his desk.
He lifted a little stamp-box and examined it. Next,
he veriﬁed the position of diﬁerent articles which
Prasville had touched and replaced; and he searched
them with his eyes, felt them with his hands, bending
over them as though certain signs, known to himself
alone, were able to tell him what he wished to know.
Lastly, he grasped the knob on an electric bell-push
and rang. The portress appeared a minute later,
He asked:
“They’ve been. haven’t they?”


EIGHT FROM NINE LEAVES ONE 33
And, when the woman hesitated about replying, he
insisted:
“Come, come, Clémence, did you open this stamp-
box?”
“No, sir.”
“Well, I fastened the lid down with a little strip of
gummed paper. The strip has been broken.”
“But I assure you, . . . ” the woman began.
“Why tell lies,” he said, “considering that I myself
instructed you to lend yourself to those visits?”
“The factis . . .”
“The fact is that you want to keep on good terms
with both sides. . . . Very well!” He handed her
a ﬁfty-franc note and repeated, “Have they been?”
“YeS.,1
“The same men as in the spring?”
“Yes, all ﬁve of them . . . with another one,
who ordered them about.”
“A tall, dark man?”
I‘ Yes.),
Lupin saw Daubrecq’s mouth hardening; and Dau-
brecq continued:
“Is that all?”
“There was one more, who came after they did and
joined them . . and then, just now, two more,
the pair who usually keep watch outside the house.”
“Did they remain in the study?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And they went away when I came back? A few
minutes before, perhaps?”
“Yes, sir.”
“That will do.”
The woman left the room. Daubrecq returned to
his letter-writing. Then, stretching out his arm, he


84 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
made some marks on a white writing-tablet, at the end
of his desk, and rested it against the desk, as though he
wished to keep it in sight.
The marks were ﬁgures; and Lupin was able to read
the following subtraction-sum:
n9 _ 8 = I.»
And Daubrecq, speaking between his teeth, thought-
fully uttered the syllables:
“Eight from nine leaves one. . . . There’s not
a doubt about that,” he added, aloud.
He wrote one more letter, a very short one, and ad-
dressed the envelope with an inscription which Lupin was
able to decipher when the letter was placed beside the
writing-tablet:
“ T o Monsieur Prasville,
“Secretary-general 0f the Prefecture of Police.”
Then he rang the bell again:
“Clémence,” he said, to the portress, “did you go to
school as a child?”
“Yes, sir, of course I did.”
“And were you taught arithmetic?”
“Why, sir . . .”
“Well, you’re not very good at subtraction.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Because you don’t know that nine minus eight
equals one. And that, you see, is a fact of the highest
importance. Life becomes impossible if you are igno-
rant of that fundamental truth.”
He rose, as he spoke, and walked round the room,
with his hands behind his back, swaying upon his hips.


EIGHT FROM NINE LEAVES ONE 85
He did so once more. Then, stopping at the dining-
room, he opened the door:
“For that matter, there’s another way of putting the
problem. Take eight from nine; and one remains.
And the one who remains is here, eh? Correct! And
monsieur supplies us with a striking proof, does he not?”
He patted the velvet curtain in which Lupin had
hurriedly wrapped himself:
“Upon my word, sir, you must be stiﬂing under this!
Not to say that I might have amused myself by sticking
a dagger through the curtain. Remember Hamlet’s
madness and Polonius’ death: ‘How now! A rat?
Dead, for a ducat, dead!’ Come along, Mr. Polonius,
come out of your hole.”
It was one of those positions to which Lupin was not
accustomed and which he loathed. To catch others
in a trap and pull their leg was all very well; but it was
a very different thing to have people teasing him and
roaring with laughter at his expense. Yet what could
he answer back?
“You lookalittle pale, Mr. Polonius. . . . Hullo!
Why, it’s the respectable old gentleman who has been
hanging about the square for some days! So you
belong to the police too, Mr. Polonius? There, there,
pull yourself together, I sha’n’t hurt you! . . . But
you see, Clémence, how right my calculation was. You
told me that nine spies had been to the house. I counted
a troop of eight, as I came along, eight of them in the
distance, down the avenue. Take eight from nine and
one remains: the one who evidently remained behind
to see what he could see. Ecce homo!”
“Well? And then?” said Lupin, who felt a mad
craving to ﬂy at the fellow ‘and reduce him to silence.
“And then? Nothing at. all, my good man. What


86 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
more‘ do you want? The farce is over. I will only ask
you to take this little note to Master Prasville, your
employer. Clémence, please show Mr. Polonius out.
And, if ever he calls again, ﬂing open the doors wide to
him. Pray look upon this as your home, Mr. Polonius.
Your servant, sir! . . .”
Lupin hesitated. He would have liked to talk big and
to come out with a farewell phrase, a parting speech,
like an actor making a showy exit from the stage, and
at least to disappear with the honours of war. But his
defeat was so pitiable that he could think of nothing
better than to bang his hat on his head and stamp his
feet as he followed the portress down the hall. It was
a poor revenge.
“You rascally beggar!” he shouted, once he was
outside the door, shaking his ﬁst at Daubrecq’s windows.
“Wretch, scum of the earth, deputy, you shall pay for
this! . . . Oh, he allows himself . >. . ! Oh,
he has the cheek to ! Well, I swear to you, my
ﬂne fellow, that, one of these days . . . !”
He was foaming with rage, all the more as, in his
innermost heart, he recognized the strength of his new
enemy and could not deny the masterly fashion in which
he had managed this business. Daubrecq’s coolness,
the assurance with which he hoaxed the police-officials,
the contempt with which he lent himself to their visits at
his house and, above all, his wonderful self-possession,
his easy bearing and the impertinence of his conduct
in the presence of the ninth person who was spying on
him: all this denoted a man of character, a strong man,
with a well-balanced mind, lucid, bold, sure of himself
and of the cards in his hand.
But what were those cards? What game was he
playing? Who held the stakes? And how did the


EIGHT FROM NINE LEAVES ONE 37
players stand on either side? Lupin could not tell.
Knowing nothing, he ﬂung himself headlong into the
thick of the fray, between adversaries desperately in-
volved, though he himself was in total ignorance of
their positions, their weapons, their resources and their
secret plans. For, when all was said, he could not
admit that the object of all those efforts was to obtain
possession of a crystal stopper!
One thing alone pleased him: Daubrecq had not
penetrated his disguise. Daubrecq believed him to be
in the employ of the police. Neither Daubrecq nor the
police, therefore, suspected the intrusion of a third thief
in the business. This was his one and only trump, a
trump that gave him a liberty of action to which he
attached the greatest importance.
Without further delay, he opened the letter which
Daubrecq had handed him for the secretary-general of
police. It contained these few lines:
“ Within reach of your hand, my dear Prasville, within
reach of your hand! You touched it! A little more and
the trick was done. . . . But you’re too big a fool.
And to think that they couldn’t hit upon any one better
than you to make me bite the dust. Poor old France!
“Good-bye, Prasville. But, if I catch you in the act, it
will be a bad lookout for you: my maxim is to shoot
at sight.
“DAUBRECQ’
“‘Within reach of your hand,”’ repeated Lupin,
after reading the note. “And to think that the rogue
may be writing the truth! The most elementary hiding-
places are the safest. We must look into this, all the
same. And, also, we must ﬁnd out why Daubrecq is the


88 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
object of such strict supervision and obtain a few par-
ticulars about the fellow generally.”
The information supplied to Lupin by a private
inquiry-oﬂice consisted of the following details:
“ALEXIS DAUBRECQ, deputy of the Bouches-du-
Rhone for the past two years; sits among the inde-
pendent members. Political opinions not very clearly
deﬁned, but electoral position exceedingly strong, be-
cause of the enormous sums which he spends in nursing
his constituency. No private income. Nevertheless,
has a house in Paris, a villa at Enghien and another at
Nice and loses heavily at play, though no one knows
where the money comes from. Has great inﬂuence and
obtains all he wants without making up to ministers or,
apparently, having either friends or connections in
political circles.”
“That’s a trade docket,” said Lupin to himself.
“What I want is a domestic docket, a police docket,
which will tell me about the gentleman’s private life and
enable me to work more easily in this darkness and to
know if I’m not getting myself into a tangle by bother-
ing about the Daubrecq bird. And time’s getting short,
hang it!”
One of the residences which Lupin occupied at that
period and which he used oftener than any of theo, thers
was in the Rue Chateaubriand, near the Arc de 'l’Etoile.
He was known there by the name of Michel Beaumont.
He had a snug ﬂat here and was looked after by a man-
servant, Achille, who was utterly devoted to his interests
and whose chief duty was to receive and repeat the
telephone-messages addressed to Lupin by his followers.


EIGHT FROM NINE LEAVES ONE 30
Lupin, on returning home, learnt, with great aston-
ishment, that a woman had been waiting to see him for
over an hour:
“What! Why, no one ever comes to see me here!
Is she young?”
“No. . . . Idon’t thinkso.”
“You don’t think so!”
“She’s wearing a lace shawl over her head, instead
of a hat, and you can’t see her face. . . . She’s more
like a clerk . . . or a woman employed in a shop.
. . . She’s not well-dressed . . .”
“Whom did she ask for?”
“M. Michel Beaumont,” replied the servant.
“Queer. And why has she called?”
“All she said was that it was about the Enghien
business. . . . So I thought that . . .”
“What! The Enghien business! Then she knows
that I am mixed up in that business. . . . She
knows that, by applying here . .”
“I could not get anything out of her, but I thought,
all the same, that I had better let her in.”
“Quite right. Where is she?”
“In the drawing-room. I’ve put on the lights.”
Lupin walked briskly across the hall and opened the
door of the drawing-room:
“What are you talking about?” he said, to his man.
“There’s no one here.”
“No one here?” said Achille, running up.
And the room, in fact, was empty.
“Well, on my word, this takes the cake!” cried the
servant. “It wasn’t twenty minutes ago that I came
and had a look, to make sure. She was sitting over
there. And there’s nothing wrong with my eyesight,
you know.”


40 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
“Look here, look here,” said Lupin, irritably.
“Where were you while the woman was waiting?” .
“In the hall, governor! I never left the hall for a
second! I should have seen her go out, blow it!”
“Still, she’s not here now . . .”
“So I see,” moaned the man, quite ﬂabbergasted.
“She must have got tired of waiting and gone away.
But, dash it all, I should like to know how she got out!”
“How she got out?” said Lupin. “It doesn’t take
a wizard to tell that.”
“What do you mean?”
“She got out through the window. Look, it’s still ajar
. We are on the ground-ﬂoor . . . The
street is almost always deserted, in the evenings.
There’s no doubt about it.”
He had looked around him and satisﬁed himself that
nothing had been taken away or moved. The room,
for that matter, contained no knicknack of any value,
no important paper that might have explained the wo-
man’s visit, followed by her sudden disappearance. And
yet why that inexplicable ﬂight? . .
“Has any one telephoned?” he asked.
l‘No.”
“Any letters?”
“Yes, one letter by the last post.”
“Where is it?”
“I put it on your mantel-piece, governor, as usual.”
Lupin’s bedroom was next to the drawing-room, but
Lupin had permanently bolted the door between the
two. He, therefore, had to go through the hall again.
Lupin switched on the electric light and, the next
moment, said:
“I don’t see it . . .”
“Yes . . . I put it next to the ﬂower-bowl."


EIGHT FROM NINE LEAVES ONE 41
‘ “There’s nothing here at all.”
“You must be looking in the wrong place, governor.”
But Achille moved the bowl, lifted the clock, bent
down to the grate, in vain: the letter was not there.
“Oh blast it, blast it!” he muttered. “She’s done
it . . . she’s taken it. . . . And then, when
she had the letter, she cleared out. . . . Oh, the
slut! . . .”
Lupin said:
“You’re mad! There’s no way through between the
two rooms. ”
“Then who did take it, governor?”
They were both of them silent. Lupin strove to
control his anger and collect his ideas. He asked:
“Did you look at the envelope?”
‘I'Yes.7,
“Anything particular about it?”
“No. An ordinary envelope, with the address in
pencil.”
“Ah, inpencil? . . .”
“Yes, it looked as if it had been written in a hurry,
or scribbled, rather.”
“How was the address worded? . . . Do you
remember?” asked Lupin, in a voice strained with
anxiety.
“Yes, I remembered it, because it struck me as
funny . . .”
“But speak, will you? Speak!”
“It said, ‘Monsieur de Beaumont, Michel. ”’
Lupin took his servant by the shoulders and shook
him:
“It said ‘de’ Beaumont? Are you sure? And
‘Michel’ after ‘ Beaumont ’? ”
“Quite certain.”


42 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
“Ah!” muttered Lupin, with a choking throat. “It
was a letter from Gilbert!”
He stood motionless, a little pale, with drawn features.
There was no doubt about it: the letter was from
Gilbert. It was the form of address which, by Lupin’s
orders, Gilbert had used for years in corresponding with
him. Gilbert had at last — after long waiting and by
dint of endless artiﬁces — found a means of getting
a letter posted from his prison and had hastily written to
him. And now the letter was intercepted! What did
it say? What instructions had the unhappy prisoner
given? What help was he praying for? What strat-
agem did he suggest?
Lupin looked round the room, which, contrary to the
drawing-room, contained important papers. But none
of the locks had been forced; and he was compelled to
admit that the woman had no other object than to get
hold of Gilbert’s letter.
Constraining himself to keep his temper, he asked:
“Did the letter come while the woman was here?”
“At the same time. The porter rang at the same
moment.”
“Could she see the envelope?”
llYes.,,
The conclusion was evident. It remained to dis-
cover how the visitor had been able to effect her theft.
By slipping from one window to the other, outside the
ﬂat? Impossible: Lupin found the window of his
room shut. By opening the communicating door?
Impossible: Lupin found it locked and barred with its
two inner bolts.
Nevertheless, a person cannot pass through a wall by
a mere operation of will. To go in or out of a room
requires a passage; and, as the act was accomplished in


EIGHT FROM NINE LEAVES ONE 45
grew a haunting dread of the future. A date loomed
before his eyes, the terrible date which he unconsciously
assigned to the law to perform its work of vengeance,
the date upon which, in the light of a wan April morning,
two men would mount the scaffold, two men who had
stood by him, two comrades whom he had been unable
to save from paying the awful penalty. . . .


CHAPTER III
THE HOME LIFE or ALEXIS DAUBRECQ
HEN Daubrecq the deputy came in from lunch on
the day after the police had searched his house
he was stopped by Clémence, his portress, who told
him that she had found a cook who could be thoroughly
relied on.
The cook arrived a few minutes later and produced
ﬁrst-rate characters, signed by people with whom it
was easy to take up her references. She was a very
active woman, although of a certain age, and agreed to
do the work of the house by herself, without the help
of a man-servant, this being a condition upon which
Daubrecq insisted.
Her last place was with a member of the Chamber of
Deputies, Comte Saulevat, to whom Daubrecq at once
telephoned. The count’s steward gave her a perfect
character, and she was engaged.
As soon as she had fetched her trunk, she set to work
and cleaned and scrubbed until it was time to cook
the dinner.
Daubrecq dined and went out.
At eleven o’clock, after the portress had gone to bed,
the cook cautiously opened the garden-gate. A man
came up.
“Is that you?” she asked.
“Yes, it’s I, Lupin.”
She took him to her bedroom on the third ﬂoorI
\
66


48 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER’
“First, to put me up. You were my wet-nurse once.
You can very well give me half your room now. I’ll
sleep in the armchair.”
“And next?”
“Next? To supply me with such food as I want.”
“And next?”
“Next? To undertake, with me and under my direc-
tion, a regular series of searches with a view . . .”
“To what? ”
“To discovering the precious object of which I spoke
to you.”
“What’s that?”
“A crystal stopper.”
“A crystal stopper. . . . Saints above! A nice
business! And, if we don’t ﬁnd your confounded
stopper, what then?”
Lupin took her gently by the arm and, in a serious
voice:
“If we don’t ﬁnd it, Gilbert, young Gilbert whom you
know and love, will stand every chance of losing his head;
and so will Vaucheray.”
“Vaucheray I don’t mind . . . a dirty rascal like
him! But Gilbert . . .”
“Have you seen the papers this evening? Things
are looking worse than ever. Vaucheray, as might be
expected, accuses Gilbert of stabbing the valet; and it
so happens that the knife which Vaucheray used belonged
to Gilbert. That came out this morning. Whereupon
Gilbert, who is intelligent in his way, but easily fright-
ened, blithered and launched forth into stories and lies
which will end in his undoing. That’s how the matter
stands. Will you help me?”
\
The deputy came home at midnight.


HOME LIFE OF ALEXIS DAUBRECQ 49
Thenceforth, for several days, Lupin moulded his
existence upon Daubrecq’s, beginning his investigations
the moment the deputy left the house. He pursued
them methodically, dividing each room into sections
which he did not abandon until he had been through
the tiniest nooks and corners and, so to speak, exhausted
every possible device.
Victoire searched also. And nothing was forgotten.
Table-legs, chair-rungs, ﬂoor-boards, mouldings, mirror-
and picture-frames, clocks, plinths, curtain-borders,
telephone-holders and electric ﬁttings: everything that
an ingenious imagination could have selected as a hiding-
place was overhauled.
And they also watched the deputy’s least actions,
his most unconscious movements, the expression of his
face, the books which he read and the letters which he
wrote.
It was easy enough. He seemed to live his life in
the light of day. N o door was ever shut. He received
no visits. And his existence worked with mechanical
regularity. He went to the Chamber in the afternoon,
to the club in the evening.
“Still,” said Lupin, “there must be something that’s
not orthodox behind all this.”
“There’s nothing of the sort,” moaned Victoire.
“You’re wasting your time and we shall be bowl
out.” .
The presence of the detectives and their habit of
walking up and down outside the windows drove her
mad. She refused to admit that they were there for
any other purpose than to trap her, Victoire. And,
each time that she went shopping, she was quite sur-
prised that one of those men did not lay his hand upon
her shoulder.
a


50 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
One day she returned allupset. Her basket of pro-
visions was shaking on her arm.
“What’s the matter, my dear Victoire?” said Lupin.
“You’re looking green.”
“Green? I dare say I do. So would you look
green .”
She had to sit down and it was only after making
repeated efforts that she succeeded in stuttering:
“Aman . . . amanspoketome . . . at
the fruiterer’s.”
“By Jingo! Did he want you to run away with
him?”
“No, he gave me a letter.
“Then what are you complaining about? It was a
love-letter, of course!”
“No. ‘It’s for your governor,’ said he. ‘My gov-
ernor?’ I said. ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘for the gentleman who’s
staying in your room.’”
“What’s that?”
This time, Lupin had started:
“Give it here,” he said, snatching the letter from her.
The envelope bore no address. But there was another,
inside it, on which he read:
H
I
“Monsieur Arséne Lupin,
“‘/o Victoire.”
“The devil!” he said. “This is a bit thick!”
He tore open the second envelope. It contained a
sheet of paper with the following words, written in large
capitals:
“Everything you are doing is useless and danger-
ous. . Give it up.”


HOME LIFE OF ALEXIS DAUBRECQ 53
after a brief struggle, during which Lupin caught a
glimpse of the man’s bestial and contorted features,
the two of them stood face to face, railing at each other
like mortal enemies.
Then they stopped. Daubrecq sat down. There
was mischief in his face, and sarcasm as well. And he
began to talk again, with sharp taps on the table, as
though he were dictating terms.
She no longer stirred. She sat haughtily in her chair
and towered over him, absent-minded, with roaming
eyes. Lupin, captivated by that powerful and sorrowful
countenance, continued to watch her; and he was vainly
seeking to remember of what or of whom she reminded
him, when he noticed that she had turned her head
slightly and that she was imperceptibly moving her
arm.
And her arm strayed farther and farther and her
hand crept along the table and Lupin saw that, at the
end of the table, there stood a water-bottle with a gold-
topped stopper. The hand reached the water-bottle,
felt it, rose gently and seized the stopper. A quick
movement of the head, a glance, and the stopper was
put back in its place. Obviously, it was not what
the woman hoped to ﬁnd.
“Dash it!” said Lupin. “She’s after the crystal
stopper too! The matter is becoming more complicated
daily; there’s no doubt about it.”
But, on renewing his observation of the visitor, he
was astounded to note the sudden and unexpected
expression of her countenance, a terrible, implacable,
ferocious expression. And he saw that her hand was
continuing its stealthy progress round the table and that,
with an uninterrupted and crafty sliding movement,
it was pushing back books and, slowly and surely,


54 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
approaching a dagger whose blade gleamed among the
scattered papers.
It gripped the handle.
Daubrecq went on talking. Behind his back, the
hand rose steadily, little by little; and Lupin saw the
woman’s desperate and furious eyes ﬁxed upon the
spot in the neck where she intended to plant the knife:
“You’re doing a very silly thing, fair lady,” thought
Lupin.
And he already began to turn over in his mind the best
means of escaping and of taking Victoire with him.
She hesitated, however, with uplifted arm. But it
was only a momentary weakness. She clenched her
teeth. Her whole face, contracted with hatred, became
yet further convulsed. And she made the dread move-
ment.
At the same instant Daubrecq crouched and, springing
from his seat, turned and seized the woman’s frail
wrist in mid-air.
Oddly enough, he addressed no reproach to her, as
though the deed which she had attempted surprised
him no more than any ordinary, very natural and simple
act. He shrugged his shoulders, like a man accustomed
to that sort of danger, and strode up and down in silence.
She had dropped the weapon and was now crying,
holding her head between her hands, with sobs that
shook her whole frame.
He next came up to her and said a few words, once
more tapping the table as he spoke.
She made a sign in the negative and, when he insisted,
she, in her turn, stamped her foot on_ the ﬂoor and
exclaimed, loud enough for Lupin to hear:
“Never! . . . Never! .”
Thereupon, without another word, Daubrecq fetched


HOME LIFE OF ALEXIS DAUBRECQ 55
the fur cloak which she had brought with her and hung
it over the woman’s shoulders, while she shrouded her
face in a lace wrap.
And he showed her out.
Two minutes later, the garden-gate was locked again.
“Pity I can’t run after that strange person,” thought
Lupin, “and have a chat with her about the Daubrecq
bird. Seems to me that we two could do a good stroke
of business together.”
In any case, there was one point to be cleared up:
Daubrecq the deputy, whose life was so orderly, so
apparently respectable, was in the habit of receiving
visits at night, when his house was no longer watched
by the police.
He sent Victoire to arrange with two members of his
gang to keep watch for several days. And he himself
remained awake next night.
As on the previous morning, he heard a noise at four
o’clock. As on the previous morning, the deputy let
some one in.
Lupin ran down his ladder and, when he came to the
free space above the shutters, saw a man crawling at
Daubrecq’s feet, ﬂinging his arms round Daubrecq’s
knees in frenzied despair and weeping, weeping convul-
sively.
Daubrecq, laughing, pushed him away repeatedly,
but the man clung to him. He behaved almost like
one out of his mind and, at last, in a genuine ﬁt of
madness, half rose to his feet, took the deputy by the
throat and ﬂung him back in a chair. Daubrecq
struggled, powerless at ﬁrst, while his veins swelled in his
temples. But soon, with a strength far beyond the
ordinary, he regained the mastery and deprived his
adversary of all power of movement. Then, holding


56 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
him with one hand, with the other he gave him two
great smacks in the face.
The man got up, slowly. He was livid and could
hardly stand on his legs. He waited for a moment,
as though to recover his self-possession. Then, with a
terrifying calmness, he drew a revolver from his pocket
and levelled it at Daubrecq.
Daubrecq did not ﬂinch. He even smiled, with a
deﬁant air and without displaying more excitement than
if he had been aimed at with a toy pistol.
The man stood for perhaps ﬁfteen or twenty seconds,
facing his enemy, with outstretched arm. Then, with
the same deliberate slowness, revealing a self-control
which was all the more impressive because it followed
upon a ﬁt of extreme excitement, he put up his revolver
and, from another pocket, produced his note-case.
Daubrecq took a step forward.
The man opened the pocketbook. A sheaf of bank-
notes appeared in sight.
Daubrecq seized and counted them. They were
thousand-franc notes, and there were thirty of them.
The man looked on, without a movement of revolt,
without a protest. He obviously understood the futility
of words. Daubrecq was one of those who do not relent.
Why should his vistor waste time in beseeching him or
even in revenging himself upon him by uttering vain
threats and insults? He had no hope of striking that
unassailable enemy. Even Daubrecq’s death would not
deliver him from Daubrecq.
He took his hat and went away.
At eleven o’clock in the morning Victoire, on returning
from her shopping, handed Lupin a note from his accom-
plices.
He opened it and read:


HOME LIFE OF ALEXIS DAUBRECQ 57
“The man who came to see Daubrecq last night is
Langeroux the deputy, leader of the independent left.
A poor man, with a large family.”
“Come,” said Lupin, “Daubrecq is nothing more nor
less than a blackmailer; but, by Jupiter, he has jolly
effective ways of going to work!”
Events tended to conﬁrm Lupin’s supposition. Three
days later he saw another visitor hand Daubrecq
an important sum of money. And, two days after
that, one came and left a pearl necklace behind
him.
The ﬁrst was called Dachaumont, a senator and ex-
cabinet-minister. The second was the Marquis d’Albu-
fex, a Bonapartist deputy, formerly chief political agent
in France of Prince Napoleon.
The scene, in each of these cases, was very similar
to Langeroux the deputy’s interview, a violent tragic
scene, ending in Daubrecq’s victory.
“And so on and so forth,” thought Lupin, when he
received these particulars. “I have been present at
four visits. I shall know no more if there are ten,
or twenty, or thirty. . . . It is enough for me to
learn the names of the visitors from my friends on sentry-
go outside. Shall I go and call on them? . . . What
for? They have no reason to conﬁde in me. . . .
On the other hand, am I to stay on here, delayed by
investigations which lead to nothing and which Victoire
can continue just as well without me?”
He was very much perplexed. The news of the
inquiry into the case of Gilbert and V aucheray was
becoming worse and worse, the days were slipping by,
and not an hour passed without his asking himself,
in anguish, whether all his efforts — granting that he


58 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
succeeded — would not end in farcical results, absolutely
foreign to the aim which he was pursuing.
For, after all, supposing that he did fathom Daubrecq’s
underhand dealings, would that give him the means of
rescuing Gilbert and Vaucheray?
That day an incident occurred which put an end to
his indecision. After lunch Victoire heard snatches
of a conversation which Daubrecq held with some one
on the telephone. Lupin gathered, from what Victoire
reported, that the deputy had an appointment with a
lady for half-past eight and that he was going to take
her to a theatre:
“I shall get a pit-tier box, like the one we had six
weeks ago,” Daubrecq had said. And he added, with
a laugh, “I hope that I shall not have the burglars in
during that time.”
There was not a doubt in Lupin’s mind. Daubrecq
was about to spend his evening in the same manner
in which he had spent the evening six weeks ago, while
they were breaking into his villa at Enghien. To
know the person whom he was to meet and perhaps
thus to discover how Gilbert and Vaucheray had learnt
that Daubrecq would be away from eight o’clock in the
evening until one o’clock in the morning: these were
matters of the utmost importance.
Lupin left the house in the afternoon, with Victoire’s
assistance. He knew through her that Daubrecq was
coming home for dinner earlier than usual.
He went to his ﬂat in the Rue Chateaubriand,
telephoned for three of his friends, dressed and made
himself up in his favourite character of a Russian
prince, with fair hair and moustache and short-cut
whiskers.
The accomplices arrived in a motor-car.


HOME LIFE OF ALEXIS DAUBRECQ 59
At that moment, Achille, his man, brought him a
telegram, addressed to M. Michel Beaumont, Rue
Chateaubriand, which ran:
“Do not come to theatre this evening. Danger of
your intervention spoiling everything.”
There was a ﬂower-vase on the chimney-piece beside
him. Lupin took it and smashed it to pieces.
“That’s it, that’s it,” he snarled. “They are playing
with me as I usually play with others. Same behaviour.
Same tricks. Only there’s this difference . . .”
What difference? He hardly knew. The truth was
that he too was baﬂied and disconcerted to the inmost
recesses of his being and that he was continuing to act
only from obstinacy, from a sense of duty, so to speak,
and without putting his ordinary good humour and high
spirits into the work.
“Come along,” he said to his accomplices.
By his instructions, the chauffeur set them down near
the Square Lamartine, but kept the motor going. Lupin
foresaw that Daubrecq, in order to escape the detectives
watching the house, would jump into the ﬁrst taxi; and
he did not intend to be outdistanced.
He had not allowed for Daubrecq’s cleverness.
At half-past seven both leaves of the garden-gate
were ﬂung open, a bright light ﬂashed and a motor-cycle
darted across the road, skirted the square, turned in
front of the motor-car and shot away toward the Bois
at a speed so great that they would have been mad to
go in pursuit of it.
“Good-bye, Daisy!” said Lupin, trying to jest, but
really overcome with rage.
He eyed his accomplices in the hope that one of them


60 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
would venture to give a mocking smile. How pleased
he would have been to vent his nerves on them!
“Let’s go home,” he said to his companions.
He gave them some dinner; then he smoked a cigar
and they set off again in the car and went the round
of the theatres, beginning with those which were giving
light operas and musical comedies, for which be pre-
sumed that Daubrecq and his lady would have a prefer-
ence. He took a stall, inspected the lower-tier boxes
and went away again.
He next drove to the more serious theatres: the Renais-
sance, the Gymnase.
At last, at ten o’clock in the evening, he saw a pit-tier
box at the Vaudeville almost entirely protected from
inspection by its two screens; and, on ‘tipping the box-
keeper, was told that it contained a short, stout, elderly
gentleman and a lady who was wearing a thick lace veil.
The next box was free. He took it, went back to his
friends to give them their instructions and sat down
near the couple.
During the entr’acte, when the lights went up, he
perceived Daubrecq’s proﬁle. The lady remained at
the back of the box, invisible. The two were speaking
in a low voice; and, when the curtain rose again, they
went on speaking, but in such a way that Lupin could
not distinguish a word.
Ten minutes passed. Some one tapped at their door.
It was one of the men from the box-oﬂice:
“Are you M. le Député Daubrecq, sir?” he asked.
“Yes,” said Daubrecq, in a voice of surprise. “But
how do you know my name?’
“ There’s a gentleman asking for you on the teio-
phone. He told me to go to Box 22”
“ But who is it ? ’


HOLIE LIFE OF ALEXIS DAUBRECQ 6]
“ M. le marquis d’Albufex.”
“ Eh ? . . . What ? . . . ”
“ What am I to say, sir ? ”
“I’m coming . . . I’m coming . . .”
Daubrecq rose hurriedly from his seat and followed
the clerk to the box-oﬂice.
He was not yet out of sight when Lupin sprang from
his box, worked the lock of the next door and sat down
beside the lady.
She gave a stiﬂed cry.
“Hush!” he said. “I have to speak to you. It is
most important.
“Ah!” she said, between her teeth. “Arséne Lupin!”
He was dumbfounded. For a moment he sat quiet,
open-mouthed. The woman knew him! And not only
did she know him, but she had recognized him through
his disguise! Accustomed though he was to the most
extraordinary and unusual events, this disconcerted him.
He did not even dream of protesting and stammered:
“So you know? . . . So you know? .”
He snatched at the lady’s veil and pulled it aside
before she had time to defend herself:
“What!” he muttered, with increased amazement.
“Is it possible?”
It was the woman whom he had seen at Daubrecq’s
a few days earlier, the woman who had raised her dagger
against Daubrecq and who had intended to stab him
with all the strength of her hatred.
It was her turn to be taken aback:
“What! Have you seen me before?
“Yes, the other night, at his house . . . I saw
what you tried to do .”
She made a movement to escape. Heheld her back
and, speaking with great eagerness:
I!


62 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
“I must know who you are,” he said. “That was why
I had Daubrecq telephoned for.”
She looked aghast:
“Do you mean to say it was not the Marquis d’Albu-
fex?”
“No, it was one of my assistants.”
“Then Daubrecq will come back? . . .”
“Yes, but we have time. . . . Listentome. . . .
We must meet again. . . . He is your enemy.
. . Iwill save you from him. . . .”
“Why should you? What is your object?”
“Do not distrust me . . . it is quite certain that
our interests are indentical. . . . Where can I see
you? To-morrow, surely? At what time? And where?
“Well . . .”
She looked at him with obvious hesitation, not know-
ing what to do, on the point of speaking and yet full
of uneasiness and doubt.
He pressed her:
“Oh, I entreat you . . .. answer me .
just one word . . . and at once. . . . It would
be a pity for him to ﬁnd me here. . . _ . I entreat
you. . .”
She answered sharply:
“My name doesn’t matter. . . . .Wewillseeeach
other ﬁrst and you shall explain to me. . . . Yes,
we will meet. . . . Listen, to-morrow, at three
o’clock, at the corner of the Boulevard. . . .”
At that exact moment, the door of the box opened,
so to speak, with a bang, and Daubrecq appeared.
“Rats!” Lupin mumbled, under his breath, furious
at being caught before obtaining what he wanted.
Daubrecq gave a chuckle:
“So that’s it. . . . I thought something was up.


HOME LIFE OF ALEXIS DAUBRECQ 63
. . Ah, the telephone-trick: a little out of date,
sir! I had not gone half-way when I turned back.”
He pushed Lupin to the front of the box and,
sitting down beside the lady, said:
“And, now my lord, who are we? A servant at the
police-oﬂice, probably? There’s a professional look
about that mug of yours.”
He stared hard at Lupin, who did not move a muscle,
and tried to put a name to the face, but failed to recog-
nize the man whom he had called Polonius.
Lupin, without taking his eyes from Daubrecq either,
reﬂected. He would not for anything in the world
have thrown up the game at that point or neglected
this favourable opportunity of coming to an understand-
ing with his mortal enemy.
The woman sat in her corner, motionless, and watched
them both.
Lupin said:
“Let us go outside, sir. That will make our interview
easier.”
“No, my lord, here,” grinned the deputy. “It will
take place here, presently, during the entr’acte. Then
we shall not be disturbing anybody.”
lI ,1
“Save your breath, my man; you sha’n’t budge.”
And he took Lupin by the coat-collar, with the obvious
intention of not letting go of him before the interval.
A rash move! Was it likely that Lupin would con-
sent to remain in such an attitude, especially before a
woman, a woman to whom he had offered his alliance,
a woman — and he now thought of it for the ﬁrst time —
who was distinctly good-looking and whose grave beauty
attracted him. His whole pride as a man rose at the
thought.


HOME LIFE OF ALEXIS DAUBRECQ 65
But which of them should she assist? What could Lupin
represent in her eyes? A friend? An enemy?
She briskly made for the front of the box, forced back
the screen and, leaning forward, seemed to give a signaL
Then she returned and tried to slip to the door.
Lupin, as though wishing to help her, said:
“Why don’t you move the chair?”
He was speaking of a heavy chair which had fallen
down between him and Daubrecq and across which they
were struggling.
The woman stooped and pulled away the chair.
That was what Lupin was waiting for. Once rid of
the obstacle, he caught Daubrecq a smart kick on the
shin with the tip of his patent-leather boot. The result
was the same as with the blow which he had given him
on the arm. The pain caused a second’s apprehension
and distraction, of which he at once took advantage
to beat down Daubrecq’s outstretched hands and to
dig his ten ﬁngers into his adversary’s throat and neck.
Daubrecq struggled. Daubrecq tried to pull away
the hands that were throttling him; but he was begin-
ning to choke and felt his strength decreasing.
“Aha, you old monkey!” growled Lupin, forcing him
to the ﬂoor. “Why don’t you shout for help? How
frightened you must be of a scandal!”
At the sound of the fall there came a knocking at the
partition, on the other side.
“Knock away, knock away,” said Lupin, under his
breath. “The play is on the stage. This is my business
and, until I’ve mastered this gorilla . . .”
It did not take him long. The deputy was choking.
Lupin stunned him with a blow on the jaw; and all
that remained for him to do was to take the woman away
and make his escape with her before the alarm was given.


88 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
But, when he turned round, he saw that the woman
was gone.
She could not be far. Darting from the box, he set
off at a run, regardless of the programme-sellers and
check-takers.
On reaching the entrance-lobby, he saw her through
an open door, crossing the pavement of the Chaussée
d’Antin.
She was stepping into a motor-car when he came up
with her.
The door closed behind her.
He seized the handle and tried to pull at it.
But a man jumped up inside and sent his ﬁst ﬂying
into Lupin’s face, with less skill but no less force than
Lupin had sent his into Daubrecq’s face.
Stunned though he was by the blow, he nevertheless
had ample time to recognize the man, in a sudden,
startled vision, and also to recognize, under his chauf-
feur’s disguise, the man who was driving the car. It
was the Growler and the Masher, the two men in charge
of the boats on the Enghien night, two friends of Gilbert
and Vaucheray: in short, two of Lupin’s own accomplices.
q 0 I o o Q
When he reached his rooms in the Rue Chateaubriand,
Lupin, after washing the blood from his face, sat for
over an hour in a chair, as though overwhelmed. For
the ﬁrst time in his life he was experiencing the pain
of treachery. For the ﬁrst time his comrades in the
ﬁght were turning against their chief.
Mechanically, to divert his thoughts, he turned to his
correspondence and tore the wrapper from an evening
paper. Among the late news he found the following
paragraphs:


HOME LIFE OF ALEXIS DAUBRECQ 67
“THE VILLA MARIE-THERESE cAsE”
“The real identity of Vaucheray, one of the alleged
murderers of Léonard the valet, has at last been ascer-
tained. He is a miscreant of the worst type, a hardened
criminal who has already twice been sentenced for mur-
der, in default, under another name.
“No doubt, the police will end by also discovering
the real name of his accomplice, Gilbert. In any event,
the examining-magistrate is determined to commit the
prisoners for trial as soon as possible.
“The public will have no reason to complain of the
delays of the law.”
In between other newspapers and prospectuses lay
a letter.
Lupin jumped when he saw it. It was addressed:
“Monsieur de Beaumont, Michel.”
“Oh,” he gasped, “a letter from Gilbert!”
It contained these few words:
“Help, governor! . . . I am frightened. . . .
.Iam frightened. . . .”
Once again, Lupin spent a night alternating between
sleeplessness and nightmares. Once again, he was
tormented by atrocious and terrifying visions.


CHAPTER IV
‘ma CHIEF or THE ENEMIES
OOR BOY!” murmured Lupin, when his eyes fell
on Gilbert’s letter next morning. “How he must
feel it!”
On the very ﬁrst day when he saw him, he had taken
a liking to that well-set-up youngster, so careless, gay
and fond of life. Gilbert was devoted to him, would
have accepted death at a sign from his master. And
Lupin also loved his frankness, his good humour, his
simplicity, his bright, open face.
“Gilbert,” he often used to say, “you are an honest
man. Do you know, if I were you, I should chuck the
business and become an honest man for g .”
“After you, governor,” Gilbert would reply, with a
laugh.
“Won’t you, though?”
“No, governor. An honest man is a chap who
works and grinds. It’s a taste which I may have
had as a nipper; but they’ve made me lose it
since.”
“Who’s they?”
Gilbert was silent. He was always silent when ques-
tioned about his early life; and all that Lupin knew
was that he had been an orphan since childhood and
that he had lived all over the place, changing his name
and taking up the queerest jobs. The whole thing was
a mystery which no one had been able to fathom; and
es
la


THE CHIEF OF THE ENEMIES 69
it did not look as though the police would make much
of it either.
Nor, on the other hand, did it look as though the police
would consider that mystery a .reason for delaying
proceedings. They would send Vaucheray’s accomplice
for trial — under his name of Gilbert or any other
name — and visit him with the same inevitable punish-
ment.
“Poor boy!” repeated Lupin. “They’re persecuting
him like this only because of me. They are afraid of
his escaping and they are in a hurry to ﬁnish the busi-
ness: the verdict ﬁrst and then . . . the execution.
Oh, the butchers! . . . A lad of twenty,
who has committed no murder, who is not even an
accomplice in the murder. . . .’ ’
Alas, Lupin well knew that this was a thing impossible
to prove and that he must concentrate his efforts upon
another point. But upon which? Was he to abandon
the trail of the crystal stopper?
He could not make up his mind to that. His one and
only diversion from the search was to go to Enghien,
where the Growler and the Masher lived, and make sure
that nothing had been seen of them since the murder at
the Villa Marie-Thérése. Apart from this, he applied
himself to the question of Daubrecq and nothing else.
He refused even to trouble his head about the prob-
lems set before him: the treachery of the Growler and
the Masher; their connection with the gray-haired lady;
the spying of which he himself was the object.
“Steady, Lupin,” he said. “One only argues falsely
in a fever. So hold your tongue. N o inferences, above
all things! Nothing is more foolish than to infer one
fact from another before ﬁnding a certain starting-point.
That’s where you get up a tree. Listen to your instinct.


70 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
Act according to your instinct. And as you are per-
suaded, outside all argument, outside all logic, one might
say, that this business turns upon that confounded
stopper, go for it boldly. Have at Daubrecq and his
bit of crystal!”
Lupin did not wait to arrive at these conclusions
before settling his actions accordingly. At the moment
when he was stating them in his mind, three days after
the scene at the Vaudeville, he was sitting, dressed like
a retired tradesman, in an old overcoat, with a muﬂler
round his neck, on a bench in the Avenue Victor-Hugo,
at some distance from the Square Lamartine. Victoire
had his instructions to pass by that bench at the same
hour every morning.
“Yes,” he repeated to himself, “the crystal stopper:
everything turns on that. . . . Once I get hold of
it . . .”
Victoire arrived, with her shopping-basket on her
arm. He at once noticed her extraordinary agitation
and pallor:
“What’s the matter?” asked Lupin, walking beside
his old nurse.
She went into a big grocer’s, which was crowded with
people, and, turning to him:
“Here,” she said, in a voice torn with excitement.
“Here’s what you’ve been hunting for.”
And, taking something from her basket, she gave it
to him.
Lupin stood astounded: in his hand lay the crystal
stopper.
“Can it be true? Can it be true?” he muttered, as
though the ease of the solution had thrown him oﬂ'
his balance.
But the fact remained, visible and palpable. He


THE CHIEF OF THE ENEMIES 71
recognized by its shape, by its size, by the worn gilding
of its facets, recognized beyond any possible doubt
the crystal stopper which he had seen before. He
even remarked a tiny, hardly noticeable little scratch on
the stem which he remembered perfectly.
However, while the thing presented all the same
characteristics, it possessed no other that seemed out
of the way. It was a crystal stopper, that was all.
There was no really special mark to distinguish it from
other stoppers. There was no sign upon it, no stamp;
and, being cut from a single piece, it contained no
foreign object.
“What then?”
And Lupin received a quick insight into the depth
of his mistake. What good could the possession of that
crystal stopper do him so long as he was ignorant of
its value? That bit of glass had no existence in itself;
it counted only through the meaning that attached to
it. Before taking it, the thing was to be certain. And
how could he tell that, in taking it, in robbing Daubrecq
of it, he was not committing an act of folly?
It was a question which was impossible of solution,
but which forced itself upon him with singular directness.
“No blunders!” he said to himself, as he pocketed
the stopper. “In this confounded business, blunders
are fatal.”
He had not taken his eyes off Victoire. Accompanied
by a shopman, she went from counter to counter, among
the throng of customers. She next stood for some
little while at the pay-desk and passed in front of
Lupin.
He whispered her instructions:
“Meet me behind the Lycée Janson.”
She joined him in an unfrequented street:


THE CHIEF OF THE ENEMIES 73
a few weeks to myself: The Magic Stopper; or, The
Mishaps of Poor Arse‘ne.”
“Well . . . who has taken it from you?”
“What are you talking about? . . . It has ﬂown
away . . . vanished from my pocket: hey presto,
begone!”
He gave the old servant a gentle push and, in a more
serious tone:
“Go home, Victoire, and don’t upset yourself. Of
course, some one saw you give me the stopper and took
advantage of the crowd in the shop to pick my pocket
of it. That only shows that we are watched more closely
than I thought and by adversaries of the ﬁrst rank.
But, once more, be easy. Honest men always come by
their own. . . . Have you anything else to tell
me?”
“Yes. Some one came yesterday evening, while M.
Daubrecq was out. I saw lights reﬂected upon the
trees in the garden.”
“The portress’ bedroom?”
“The portress was up.”
“Then it was some of those detective-fellows; they
are still hunting. I’ll see you later, Victoire.
You must let me in again.”
“What! You want to . . .”
“What do I risk? Your room is on the third ﬂoor.
Daubrecq suspects nothing.”
“But the others!”
“The others? If it was to their interest to play me
a trick, they’d have tried before now. I’m in their way,
that’s all. They’re not afraid of me. So till later,
Victoire, at ﬁve o’clock exactly.”
One further surprise awaited Lupin. In the evening
his old nurse told him that, having opened the drawer of


74 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
the bedside table from curiosity, she had found the
crystal stopper there again.
Lupin was no longer to be excited by these miraculous
incidents. He simply said to himself: ’
“So it’s been brought back. And the person who
brought it back and who enters this house by some
unexplained means considered, as I did, that the stopper
ought not to disappear. And yet Daubrecq, who knows
that he is being spied upon to his very bedroom, has
once more left the stopper in a drawer, as though he
attached no importance to it at all! Now what is one
to make of that? . . .”
Though Lupin did not make anything of it, never-
theless he could not mcape certain arguments, certain
associations of ideas that gave him the same vague
foretaste of light which one receives on approaching the
outlet of a tunnel.
“It is inevitable, as the case stands,” he thought,
“that there must soon be an encounter between myself
and the others. From that moment I shall be master
of the situation.”
Five days passed, during which Lupin did not glean
the slightest particular. On the sixth day Daubrecq
received a visit, in the small hours, from a gentleman,
Laybach the deputy, who, like his colleagues, dragged
himself at his feet in despair and, when all was done,
handed him twenty thousand francs.
Two more days; and then, one night, posted on the
landing of the second ﬂoor, Lupin heard the creaking
of a door, the front-door, as he perceived, which led
from the hall into the garden. In the darkness he
distinguished, or rather divined, the presence of two
persons, who climbed the stairs and stopped on the ﬁrst
ﬂoor, outside Daubrecq’s bedroom.


THE CHIEF OF THE ENEMIES 77
before. He knew, because of the rail, that a thing was
coming and he could count the number of steps climbed
by noting each vibration of the rail; but no other indica-
tion gave him that dim sensation of presence which we
feel in distinguishing movements which we do not see, in
perceiving sounds which we do not hear. And yet a
blacker darkness ought to have taken shape within the
darkness and something ought, at least, to modify the
quality of the silence. No, he might well have believed
that there was no one there.
And Lupin, in spite of himself and against the evidence
of his reason, ended by believing it, for the rail no longer
moved and he thought that he might have been the
sport of an illusion.
And this lasted a long time. He hesitated, not know-
ing what to do, not knowing what to suppose. But an
odd circumstance impressed him. A clock struck two.
He recognized the chime of Daubrecq’s clock. And the
chime was that of a clock from which one is not separated
by the obstacle of a door.
Lupin slipped down the stairs and went to the door.
It was closed, but there was a space on the left, at the
bottom, a space left by the removal of the little panel.
He listened. Daubrecq, at that moment, turned in
his bed; and his breathing was resumed, evenly and a
little stertorously. And Lupin plainly heard the sound
of rumpling garments. Beyond a doubt, the thing was
there, fumbling and feeling through the clothes which
Daubrecq had laid beside his bed.
“Now,” thought Lupin, “we shall learn something.
But how the deuce did the beggar get in? Has he
managed to draw the bolts and open the door? But,
if so, why did he make the mistake of shutting it again?”
Not for a second — a curious anomaly in a man like


78 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
Lupin, an anomaly to be explained only by the uncanny
feeling which the whole adventure produced in him —
not for a second did he suspect the very simple truth
which was about to be revealed to him. Continuing
his way down, he crouched on one of the bottom steps
of the staircase, thus placing himself between the door
of the bedroom and the hall-door, on the road which
Daubrecq’s enemy must inevitably take in order to
join his accomplices.
He questioned the darkness with an unspeakable
anguish. He was on the point of unmasking that enemy
of Daubrecq’s, who was also his own adversary. He
would thwart his plans. And the booty captured from
Daubrecq he would capture in his turn, while Daubrecq
slept and while the accomplices lurking behind the hall-
‘door or outside the garden-gate vainly awaited their
leader’s return.
And that return took place. Lupin knew it by the
renewed vibration of the balusters. And, once more,
with every sense strained and every nerve on edge, he
strove to discern the mysterious thing that was coming
toward him. He suddenly realized it when only a few
yards away. He himself, hidden in a still darker recess,
could not be seen. And what he saw—in the very
vaguest manner — was approaching stair by stair,
with inﬁnite precautions, holding on to each separate
baluster.
“Whom the devil have I to do with?” said Lupin to
himself, while his heart thumped inside his chest.
The catastrophe was hastened. A careless movement
on Lupin’s part was observed by the stranger, who
stopped short. Lupin was afraid lest the other should
turn back and take to ﬂight. He sprang at the adver-
sary and was stupeﬁed at encountering nothing but


THE CHIEF OF THE ENEMIES 79
space and knocking against the stair-rail without seizing
the form which he saw. But he at once rushed forward,
crossed the best part of the hall and caught up his an-
tagonist just as he was reaching the door opening on
the garden.
There was a cry of fright, answered by other cries on
the further side of the door.
“Oh, hang it, what’s this?” muttered Lupin, whose
arms had closed, in the dark, round a little, tiny, trem-
bling, whimpering thing.
Suddenly understanding, he stood for a moment
motionless and dismayed, at a loss what to do with his
conquered prey. But the others were shouting and
stamping outside the door. Thereupon, dreading lest
Daubrecq should wake up, he slipped the little thing
under his jacket, against his chest, stopped the crying
with his handkerchief rolled into a ball and hurried up
the three ﬂights of stairs.
“Here,” he said to Victoire, who woke with a start.
“I’ve brought you the indomitable chief of our enemies,
the Hercules of the gang. Have you a feeding-bottle
about you?”
He put down in the easy-chair a child of six or seven
years of age, the tiniest little fellow in a gray jersey and
a knitted woollen cap, whose pale and exquisitely pretty
features were streaked with the tears that streamed
from the terriﬁed eyes.
“Where did you pick that up?” asked Victoire,
aghast.
“At the foot of the stairs, as it was coming out of
Daubrecq’s bedroom,” replied Lupin, feeling the jer-
sey in the hope that the child had brought a booty of
some kind from that room.
Victoire was stirred to pity:


80 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
“Poor little dear! Look, he’s trying not to
cry! . . . Oh, saints above, his hands are like
ice! Don’t be afraid, sonnie, we sha’n’t hurt you: the
gentleman’s all right.”
“Yes,” said Lupin, “the gentleman’s quite all right,
but there’s another very wicked gentleman who’ll wake
up if they go on making such a rumpus outside the
hall-door. Do you hear them, Victoire?”
“Who is it?”
“The satellites of our young Hercules, the indomitable
leader’s gang.”
“Well . . . ?” stammered Victoire, utterly un-
nerved.
“Well, as I don’t want to be caught in the trap, I
shall start by clearing out. Are you coming, Hercules? ”
He rolled the child in a blanket, so that only its head
remained outside, gagged its mouth as gently as possible
and made Victoire fasten it to his shoulders:
“See, Hercules? We’re having a game. You never
thought you’d ﬁnd gentlemen to play pick-a-back with
you at three o’clock in the morning! Come, whoosh,
let’s ﬂy away! You don’t get giddy, I hope? ”
He stepped across the window-ledge and set foot on
one of the rungs of the ladder. He was in the garden
in a minute.
He had never ceased hearing and now heard more
plainly still the blows that were being struck upon the
front-door. He was astounded that Daubrecq was not
awakened by so violent a din:
“ If I don’t put a stop to this, they’ll spoil everything,”
he said to himself.
He stood in an angle of the house, invisible in the
darkness, and measured the distance between himself
and the gate. The gate was open. To his right, he


THE CHIEF THE ENEMIES 8]
saw the steps, on the top of which the people were
ﬂinging themselves about; to his left, the building
occupied by the portress.
The woman had come out of her lodge and was stand-
ing near the people, entreating them:
“Oh, do be quiet, do be quiet! He’ll come!”
“Capital!” said Lupin. “The good woman is an
accomplice of these as well. By Jingo, what a pluralist!”
He rushed across to her and, taking her by the scruﬂ
of the neck, hissed:
“Go and tell them I’ve got the child. . . . They
can come and fetch it at my place, Rue Chateaubriand.”
A little way off, in the avenue, stood a taxi which
Lupin presumed to be engaged by the gang. Speaking
authoritatively, as though he were one of the ac-
complices, he stepped into the cab and told the man to
drive him home.
“Well,” he said to the child, “that wasn’t much of
a shake-up, was it? . . . What do you say to going
to bye-bye on the gentleman’s bed?”
As his servant, Achille, was asleep, Lupin made the
little chap comfortable and stroked his hair for him.
The child seemed numbed. His poor face was as
though petriﬁed into a stiﬁ’ expression made up, at one
and the same time, of fear and the wish not to show
fear, of the longing to scream and a pitiful eﬂort not to
scream.
“Cry, my pet, cry,” said Lupin. “It’ll do you good
to cry.”
The child did not cry, but the voice was so gentle and
so kind that he relaxed his tense muscles; and, now that
his eyes were calmer and his mouth less contorted,
Lupin, who was examining him closely, found something
that he recognized, an undoubted resemblance.


82 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
This again conﬁrmed certain facts which he suspected
and which he had for some time been linking in his mind.
Indeed, unless he was mistaken, the position was
becoming very different and he would soon assume the
direction of events. After that
A ring at the bell followed, at once, by two others,
sharp ones.
“Hullo!” said Lupin to the child. “Here’s mummy
come to fetch you. Don’t move.”
He ran and opened the door.
A woman entered, wildly:
“My son !” she screamed. “My son! Where is he?”
“In my room,” said Lupin.
Without asking more, thus proving that she knew the
way, she rushed to the bedroom.
“As I thought,” muttered Lupin. “The youngish
woman with the gray hair: Daubrecq’s friend and
enemy.”
He walked to the window and looked through the
curtains. Two men were striding up and down the
opposite pavement: the Growler and the Masher.
“And they’re not even hiding themselves,” he said
to himself. “That’s a good sign. They consider that
they can’t do without me any longer and that they’ve
got to obey the governor. There remains the pretty
lady with the gray hair. That will be more diﬂicult.
It’s you and I now, mummy.”
He found the mother and the boy clasped in each
other’s arms; and the mother, in a great state of alarm,
her eyes moist with tears, was saying:
“You’re not hurt? You’re sure? Oh, how fright-
ened you must have been, my poor little Jacques!”
“A ﬁne little fellow,” said Lupin.
She did not reply. She was feeling the child’s jersey,


84 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
She interrupted him with a gesture; and, resolutely,
in her turn, dominating the man who was compelling
her to speak:
“It doesn’t matter,” she exclaimed. “What you
know, after all, is not much and is of no importance.
But what are your plans? You offer me your help:
with what view? For what work? You have ﬂung
yourself headlong into this business; I have been unable
to undertake anything without meeting you on my path:
you must be contemplating some aim. . . . What
aim?”
“What aim? Upon my word, it seems to me that
my conduct .”
“No, no,” she said, emphatically, “no phrases! What
you and I want is certainties; and, to achieve them,
absolute frankness. I will set you the example. M.
Daubrecq possesses a thing of unparalleled value, not
in itself, but for what it represents. That thing you
know. You have twice held it in your hands. I have
twice taken it from you. Well, I am entitled to believe
that, when you tried to obtain possession of it, you
meant to use the power which you attribute to it and to
use it to your own advantage. .”
“What makes you say that?”
“Yes, you meant to use it to forward your schemes,
in the interest of your own affairs, in accordance with
your habits as a .”
“As a burglar and a swindler,” said Lupin, completing
the sentence for her.
She did not protest. He tried to read her secret
thoughts in the depths of her eyes. What did she want
with him? What was she afraid of? If she mistrusted
him, had he not also reasons to mistrust that woman
who had twice taken the crystal stopper from him to


THE CHIEF OF THE ENEMIES 85
restore it to Daubrecq? Mortal enemy of Daubrecq’s
though she were, up to what point did she remain subject
to that man’s will? By surrendering himself to her, did
he not risk surrendering himself to Daubrecq? . . .
And yet he had never looked upon graver eyes nor a
more honest face.
Without further hesitation, he stated:
“My object is simple enough. It is the release of my
friends Gilbert and Vaucheray.”
“Is that true? Is that true?” she exclaimed, quiver-
ing all over and questioning him with an anxious glance.
“If you knew me . . .”
“I do know you. . . . I know who you are.
. For months, I have taken part in your life,
without your suspecting it . . . and yet, for certain
reasons, I still doubt . . .”
He said, in a more decisive tone:
“You do not know me. If you knew me, you would
know that there can be no peace for me before my two
companions have escaped the awful fate that awaits
them.”
She rushed at him, took him by the shoulders and
positively distraught, said:
“What? What did you say? The awful fate? .
Then you believe . . . you believe . . . ?”
“I really believe,” said Lupin, who felt how greatly
this threat upset her, “I really believe that, if I am not
in time, Gilbert and Vaucheray are done for.”
“Be quiet! . . . Be quiet!” she cried, clutching
him ﬁercely. “Be quiet! . . . You mustn’t say
that. . . . There is no reason. . . . It’s just
you who suppose . .”
“It’s not only I, it’s Gilbert as well . . .”
“ What? Gilbert? How do you know?”


8b THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
“From himself?”
“From him?”
“Yes, from Gilbert, who has no hope left but in me;
from Gilbert, who knows that only one man in the world
can save him and who, a few days ago, sent me a de-
spairing appeal from prison. Here is his letter.”
She snatched the paper greedily and read in stammer-
ing accents:
“Help, governor! . . . I am frightened! . . .
Iamfrightened! . . .”
She dropped the letter. Her hands ﬂuttered in space.
It was as though her staring eyes beheld the sinister
vision which had already so often terriﬁed Lupin. She
gave a scream of horror, tried to rise and fainted.


CHAPTER V
1111-: TWENTY-SEVEN’
HE child was sleeping peacefully on the bed. The
mother did not move from the sofa on which
Lupin had laid her; but her easier breathing and the
blood which was now returning to her face announced
her impending recovery from her swoon.
He observed that she wore a wedding-ring. Seeing
a locket hanging from her bodice, he stooped and, turning
it, found a miniature photograph representing a man of
about forty and a‘ lad — a stripling rather — in a school-
boy’s uniform. He studied the fresh, young face set in
curly hair:
“It’s as I thought,” he said. “Ah, poor woman!”
The hand which he took between his grew warmer by
degrees. The eyes opened, then closed again. She
murmured:
“Jacques. . . .
“Do not distress yourself . . . it’s all right
. . . he’s asleep.”
She recovered consciousness entirely. But, as she did
not speak, Lupin put questions to her, to make her feel a
gradual need of unbosoming herself. And he said,
pointing to the locket:
“The schoolboy is Gilbert, isn’t he? ”
“Yes,” she said.
“And Gilbert is your son?”
She gave a shiver and whispered:
M
87


88 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
“Yes, Gilbert is my son, my eldest son.”
So she was the mother of Gilbert, of Gilbert the
prisoner at the Santé, relentlessly pursued by the au—
thorities and now awaiting his trial for murder!
Lupin continued:
“And the other portrait? ”
“My husband.”
“Your husband?”
“Yes, he died three years ago.”
She was now sitting up. Life quivered in her veins
once more, together with the horror of living and the
horror of all the ghastly things that threatened her.
Lupin went on to ask:
“What was your husband’s name? ”
She hesitated a moment and answered:
‘lMergy.7)
He exclaimed:
“ Victorien Mergy the deputy?”
‘lYes.7,
There was a long pause. Lupin remembered the
incident and the stir which it had caused. Three years
ago, Mergy the deputy had blown out his brains in the
lobby of the Chamber, without leaving a word of expla-
nation behind him; and no one had ever discovered the
slightest reason for that suicide.
“Do you know the reason?” asked Lupin, completing
his thought aloud.
“Yes, I know it.”
“Gilbert, perhaps?”
“No, Gilbert had disappeared for some years, turned
out of doors and cursed by my husband. It was a very
great sorrow, but there was another motive. .”
“What was that? ” asked Lupin.
But it was not necessary for Lupin to put further


THE TWENTY—SEVEN 89
questions. Madame Mergy could keep silent no longer
and, slowly at ﬁrst, with all the anguish of that past
which had to be called up, she told her story:
“Twenty-ﬁve years ago, when my name was Clarisse
Darcel and my parents living, I knew three young men
at Nice. Their names will at once give you an insight
into the present tragedy: they were Alexis Daubrecq,
Victorien Mergy and Louis Prasville. The three were
old acquaintances, had gone to college in the same year
and served in the same regiment. Prasville, at that
time, was in love with a singer at the opera-house at
Nice. The two others, Mergy and Daubrecq, were in
love with me. I shall be brief as regards all this and,
for the rest, as regards the whole story, for the facts tell
their own tale. I fell in love with Victorien Mergy from
the ﬁrst. Perhaps I was wrong not to declare myself at
once. But true love is always timid, hesitating and shy;
and I did not announce my choice until I felt quite
certain and quite free. Unfortunately, that period of
waiting, so delightful for those who cherish a secret
passion, had permitted Daubrecq to hope. His anger
was something horrible.”
Clarisse Mergy stopped for a few seconds and resumed,
in a stiﬂed voice:
“I shall never forget it. . . . The three of us were
in the drawing-room. Oh, I can hear even now the
terrible words of threat and hatred which he uttered!
Victorien was absolutely astounded. He had never
seen his friend like this, with that repugnant face, that
bestial expression: yes, the expression of a wild beast.
. Daubrecq ground his teeth. He stamped his
feet. His bloodshot eyes — he did not wear spectacles
in those days—rolled in their sockets; and he kept
on saying, ‘I shall be revenged. . . . I shall be


90 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
revenged. . . . Oh, you don’t know what I am
capable of! . . . I shall wait ten years, twenty
years, if necessary. . . . But it will come like a
thunderbolt. . . . Ah, you don’t know! .
To be revenged. . . . To do harm . . . for
harm’s sake . . . what joy! I was born to do
harm. . . . And you will both beseech my mercy on
your knees, on your knees, yes, on your knees. . .’
At that moment, my father entered the room; and, with
his assistance and the footman’s, Victorien Mergy ﬂung
the loathsome creature out of doors. Six weeks later,
I married Victorien.”
“And Daubrecq?” asked Lupin, interrupting her.
“Did he not try . . . ?”
“No, but on our wedding-day, Louis Prasville, who
acted as my husband’s best man in deﬁance of Dau—
brecq’s opposition, went home to ﬁnd the girl he loved,
the opera-singer, dead, strangled. . . .”
“What!” said Lupin, with a start. “Had Dau-
brecq . . . ?”
“It was known that Daubrecq had been persecuting
her with his attentions for some days; but nothing more
was known. It was impossible to discover who had
gone in or out during Prasville’s absence. There was
not a trace found of any kind: nothing, absolutely
nothing.”
“But Prasville . . .”
“There was no doubt of the truth in Prasville’s
mind or ours. Daubrecq had tried to run away with
the girl, perhaps tried to force her, to hustle her and, in
the course of the struggle, maddened, losing his head,
caught her by the throat and killed her, perhaps without
knowing what he was doing. But there was no evidence
of all this; and Daubrecq was not even molested.”


THE TWENTY—SEVEN 91
“And what became of him next?”
“For some years we heard nothing of him. We
knew only that he had lost all his money gambling and
that he was travelling in America. And, in spite of
myself, I forgot his anger and his threats and was only
too ready to believe that he had ceased to love me
and no longer harboured his schemes of revenge. Be-
sides, I was so happy that I did not care to think of
anything but my happiness, my love, my husband’s
political career, the health of my son Antoine.”
“Antoine?”
“Yes, Antoine is Gilbert’s real name. The unhappy
boy has at least succeeded in concealing his identity.”
Lupin asked, with some hesitation:
“At what period did . . . Gilbert . . . be-
gin? ,7
“I cannot tell you exactly. Gilbert — I prefer to
call him that and not to pronounce his real name—
Gilbert, as a child, was what he is to-day: lovable, liked
by everybody, charming, but lazy and unruly. When
he was ﬁfteen, we put him to a boarding-school in one
of the suburbs, with the deliberate object of not having
him too much at home. After two years’ time he was
expelled from school and sent back to us.”
“Why? 7’
“Because of his conduct. The masters had discovered
that he used to slip out at night and also that he would
disappear for weeks at a time, while pretending to be at
home with us.”
“What used he to do?”
“Amuse himself backing horses, spending his time
in cafés and public dancing-rooms.”
“Then he had money?”
“Yes.7,


92 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
“Who gave it-ll'm?”
"His evil genius, the man who, secretly, unknown to
his parents, enticed him away from school, the man who
led him astray, who corrupted him, who took him from
us, who taught him to lie, to waste_ his substance and
to steal.”
“ Daubrecq? ”
“ Daubrecq.’ ’
Clarisse Mergy put her hands together to hide the
blushes on her forehead. She continued, in her tired
voice:
“Daubrecq had taken his revenge. On the day
after my husband turned our unhappy child out of
the house, Daubrecq sent us a most cynical letter
in which he revealed the odious part which he had
played and the machinations by which he had suc-
ceeded in depraving our son. And he went on to say,
‘The reformatory, one of these days. . . . Later on,
the assize-court . . . And then, let us hope and
trust, the scaffold!’”
Lupin exclaimed:
“What! Did Daubrecq plot the present business? ”
“No, no, that is only an accident. The hateful
prophecy was just a wish which he expressed. But
oh, how it terriﬁed me! I was ailing at the time;
my other son, my little Jacques, had just been born.
And every day we heard of some fresh misdeed of
Gilbert’s— forgeries, swindles— so much so that we
spread the news, in our immediate surroundings, of his
departure for abroad, followed by his death. Life was
a misery; and it became still more so when the political
storm burst in which my husband was to meet his
death.”
“What do you mean?”


THE TWENTY—SEVEN ' 93
“A word will be enough: my husband’s name was on
the list'of the Twenty-seven.”
l‘Ahl),
The veil was suddenly lifted from Lupin’s eyes and
he saw, as in a ﬂash of lightning, a whole legion of things
which, until then, had been hidden in the darkness.
Clarisse Mergy continued, in a ﬁrmer voice:
“Yes, his name was on it, but by mistake, by a piece
of incredible ill-luck of which he was the victim. It is
true that Victorien Mergy was a member of the commit-
tee appointed to consider the question of the Two-Seas
Canal. It is true that he voted with the members who
were in favour of the company’s scheme. He was even
paid — yes, I tell you so plainly and I will mention the
sum — he was paid ﬁfteen thousand francs. But he was
paid on behalf of another, of one of his political friends,
a man in whom he had absolute conﬁdence and of whom
he was the blind, unconscious tool. He thought he was
showing his friend a kindness; and it proved his own un-
doing. It was not until the day after the suicide of the
chairman of the company and the disappearance of the
secretary, the day on which the affair of the canal was
published in the papers, with its whole series of swindles
and abominations, that my husband knew that a number
of his fellow-members had been bribed and learnt that
the mysterious list, of which people suddenly began to
speak, mentioned his name with theirs and with the
names of other deputies, leaders of parties and in-
ﬂuential politicians. Oh, what awful days those were!
Would the list be published? Would his name come out?
The torture of it! You remember the mad excitement
in the Chamber, the atmosphere of terror and denun-
ciation that prevailed. Who owned the list? Nobody
could say. It was known to be in existence and that


94 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
was all. Two names were sacriﬁced to public odium.
Two men were swept away by the storm. And it re-
mained unknown where the denunciation came from
and in whose hands the incriminating documents were.”
“Daubrecq,” suggested Lupin.
“No, no!” cried Madame Mergy. “Daubrecq was
nothing at that time: he had not yet appeared upon the
scene. No, don’t you remember, the truth came out
suddenly through the very man who was keeping it back:
Germineaux, the ex-minister of justice, a cousin of the
chairman of the Canal Company. As he lay dying of
consumption, he wrote from his sick-bed to the prefect
of police, bequeathing him that list of names, which,
he said, would be found, after his death, in an iron chest
in the corner of his room. The house was surrounded
by police and the prefect took up his quarters by the
sick man’s bedside. Germineaux died. The chest was
opened and found to be empty.”
“Daubrecq, this time,” Lupin declared.
“Yes, Daubrecq,” said Madame Mergy, whose ex-
citement was momentarily increasing. “Alexis Dau-
brecq, who, for six months, disguised beyond recog-
nition, had acted as Germineaux’s secretary. It does
not matter how he discovered that Germineaux was the
possessor of the paper in question. The fact remains
that he broke open the chest on the night before the
death. So much was proved at the inquiry; and Dau-
brecq’s identity was established.”
“But he was not arrested?”
“What would have been the use? They knew well
enough that he must have deposited the list in a place of
safety. His arrest would have involved a scandal, the
reopening of the whole case. . .”
“So. . . ?”


THE TWENTY-SEVEN 95
“So they made terms.”
Lupin laughed:
“That’s funny, making terms with Daubrecq!”
“Yes, very funny,” said Madame Mergy, bitterly.
“During this time he acted and without delay, shame-
lessly, making straight for the goal. A week after the
theft, he went to the Chamber of Deputies, asked for my
husband and bluntly demanded thirty thousand francs
of him, to be paid within twenty-four hours. If not, he
threatened him with exposure and disgrace. My hus-
band knew the man he was dealing with, knew him to be
implacable and ﬁlled with relentless hatred. He lost
his head and shot himself.”
“How absurd!” Lupin could not help saying. “How
absurd! Daubrecq possesses a list of twenty-seven
names. To give up any one of those names he is
obliged, if he would have his accusation believed, to pub-
lish the list itself ——that is to say, to part with the docu-
ment, or at least a photograph of it. Well,in so doing,
he creates a scandal, it is true, but he deprives himself,
at the same time, of all further means of levying
blackmail.”
“Yes and no,” she said.
“How do you know? ”
“Through Daubrecq himself. The villain came to
see me and cynically told me of his interview with my
husband and the words that had passed between them.
Well, there is more than that list. more than that famous
bit of paper on which the secretary put down the names
and the amounts paid and to which, you will remember,
the chairman of the company, before dying, aﬂixed his
signature in letters of blood. There is more than that.
There are certain less positive proofs, which the people
interested do not know of: the correspondence between


98 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
“Certainly. And, I assure you, those were strange
meetings of ours: I watching him closely, trying to
guess his secret behind his actions and his words, and
he...he...”
“And he,” said Lupin, ﬁnishing Clarisse’s thought,
“lying in wait for the prey which he desires . . . for _
the woman whom he has never ceased to love . . .
whom he loves . . . and whom he covets with all
his might and with all his furious passion. . . .”
She lowered her head and said, simply:
(‘Yes.!’
A strange duel indeed was that which brought face to
face those two beings separated by so many implacable
things! How unbridled must Daubrecq’s passion be
for him to risk that perpetual threat of death and to
introduce to the privacgx of his house this woman whose
life he had shattered! But also how absolutely safe he
must feel himself!
“And your search ended . . . how?” asked
Lupin.
“My search,” she replied, “long remained without
fruit. You know the methods of investigation which
you have followed and which the police have followed
on their side. Well, I myself employed them, years
before either of you did, and in vain. I was beginning
to despair. Then, one day, when I had gone to see
Daubrecq in his villa at Enghien, I picked up under his
writing-table a letter which he had begun to write,
crumpled up and thrown into the waste-paper-basket.
It consisted of a few lines in bad English; and I was able
to read this: ‘Empty the crystal within, so as to leave
a void which it is impossible to suspect.’ Perhaps I
should not have attached to this sentence all the impor.
tance which it deserved, if Daubrecq, who was out in the


_ THE TWENTY—SEVEN 99
garden, had not come running in and begun to turn out
the waste-paper-basket, with an eagerness which was
very signiﬁcant. He gave me a suspicious look: ‘ There
was a letter there,’ he said. I pretended not to under-
stand. He did not insist, but his agitation did not
escape me; and I continued my quest in this direction.
A month later, I discovered, among the ashes in the
drawing-room ﬁreplace, the torn half of an English
invoice. I gathered that a Stourbridge glass-blower,
of the name of John Howard, had supplied Daubrecq
with a crystal bottle made after a model. The word
‘crystal’ struck me at once. I went to Stourbridge, got
round the foreman of the glass-works and learnt that the
stopper of this bottle had been hollowed out inside, in
accordance with the instruction in the order, so as to
leave a cavity, the existence of which would escape ob-
servation.”
Lupin nodded his head:
“The thing tallies beyond a doubt. Nevertheless,
it did not seem to me, that, even under the gilt layer
And then the hiding-place would be very tiny!”
“Tiny, but large enough,” she said. “On my return
from England, I went to the police-office to see Prasville,
whose friendship for me had remained unchanged. I
did not hesitate to tell him, ﬁrst, the reasons which had
driven my husband to suicide and, secondly, the object
of revenge which I was pursuing. When I informed him
of my discoveries, he jumped for joy; and I felt that his
hatred for Daubrecq was as strong as ever. I learnt
from him that the list was written on a slip of exceedingly
thin foreign-post-paper, which, when rolled up into a sort
of ‘pellet, would easily ﬁt into an exceedingly limited
space. Neither he nor I had the least hesitation. We
knew the hiding-place. We agreed to act independently


100 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
of each other, while continuing to correspond in secret.
I put him in touch with Clémence, the portress in the
Square Lamartine, who was entirely devoted to
me. . . .”
“But less so to Prasville,” said Lupin, “for I can
prove that she betrays him.”
“Now perhaps, but not at the start; and the police
searches were numerous. It was at that time, ten
months ago, that Gilbert came into my life again. A
mother never loses her love for her son, whatever he may
do, whatever he may have done. And then Gilbert has
such a way with him . . . well, you know him.
He cried, kissed my little Jacques, his brother . . .
and I forgave him.”
She stopped and, weary-voiced, with her eyes ﬁxed on
the ﬂoor, continued:
“Would to Heaven that I had not forgiven him!
Ah, if that hour could but return, how readily I should
ﬁnd the horrible courage to turn him away! My poor
child . . . it was I who ruined him! . . .”
And, pensively, “I should have had that or any sort of
courage, if he had been as I pictured him to myself and
as he himself told me that he had long been: hearing
the marks of vice and dissipation, coarse, deteriorated.
But, though he was utterly changed in appear-
ance, so much so that I could hardly recognize him,
there was, from the point of view of — how shall I put
it? — from the moral point of view, an undoubted im-
provement. You had helped him, lifted him; and,
though his mode of life was hateful to me, nevertheless
he retained a certain self-respect . . . a sort of
underlying decency that showed itself on the surface
once more. . . . He was gay, careless, happy.
. . And he used to talk of you with such affection!”


THE TWENTY—SEVEN 101
She picked her words, betraying her embarrassment,
not daring, in Lupin’s presence, to condemn the line of
life which Gilbert had selected and yet unable to speak
in favour of it.
“What happened next?” asked Lupin.
“I saw him very often. He would come to me by
stealth, or else I went to him and we would go for walks
in the country. In this way, I was gradually induced
to tell him our story, of his father’s suicide and the
object which I was pursuing. He at once took ﬁre.
He too wanted to avenge his father and, by stealing the
crystal stopper, to avenge himself on Daubrecq for the
harm which he had done him. His ﬁrst idea—from
which, I am bound to tell you, he never swerved — was
to arrange with you.”
“Well, then,” cried Lupin, “he ought to have
In
“Yes, I know . . . and I was of the same opinion.
Unfortunately, my poor Gilbert — you know how weak
he is! — was under the inﬂuence of one of his comrades.”
“ Vaucheray? ”
“Yes, Vaucheray, a saturnine spirit, full of bitterness
and envy, an ambitious, unscrupulous, gloomy, crafty
man, who had acquired a great empire over my son.
Gilbert made the mistake of conﬁding in him and ask-
ing his advice. That was the origin of all the mis-
chief. Vaucheray convinced him and convinced me as
well that it would be better if we acted by ourselves.
He studied the business, took the lead and ﬁnally or-
ganized the Enghien expedition and, under your di-
rection, the burglary at the Villa Marie-Thérése, which
Prasville and his detectives had been unable to search
thoroughly, because of the active watch maintained by
Leonard the valet. It was a mad scheme. We ought


102 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
either to have trusted in your experience entirely, or else
to have left you out altogether, taking the risk of fatal
mistakes and dangerous hesitations. But we could not
help ourselves. Vaucheray ruled us. I agreed to meet
Daubrecq at the theatre. During this time the thing
took place. When I came home, at twelve o’clock at
‘night, I heard the terrible result: Léonard murdered,
my son arrested. I at once received an intuition of the
future. Daubrecq’s appalling prophecy was being
realized: it meant trial and sentence. And this through
my fault, through the fault of me, the mother, who had
driven my son toward the abyss from which nothing
could extricate him now.”
Clarisse wrung her hands and shivered from head to
foot. What suffering can compare with that of a mother
trembling for the head of her son? Stirred with pity,
Lupin said:
“We shall save him. Of that there is not the shadow
of a doubt. But it is necessary that I should know all
the details. Finish your story, please. How did you
know, on the same night, what had happened at En-
ghien?”
She mastered herself and, with a face wrung with
fevered anguish, replied:
“Through two of your accomplices, or rather two
accomplices of Vaucheray, to whom they were wholly
devoted and who had chosen them to row the boats.”
“The two men outside: the Growler and the Masher? ”
“Yes. On your return from the villa, when you
landed after being pursued on the lake by the commissary
of police, you said a few words to them, by way of expla-
nation, as you went to your car. Mad with fright, they
rushed to my place, where they had been before, and
told me the hideous news. Gilbert was in prison! Oh.


THE TWENTY—SEVEN 103
what an awful night! What was I to do? Look for
you? Certainly; and implore your assistance. . . .
But where was I to ﬁnd you? . . . It was then that
the two whom you call the Growler and the Masher,
driven into a corner by circumstances, decided to tell
me of the part played by Vaucheray, his ambitions, his
plan, which had long been ripening . . .”
“To get rid of me, I suppose?” said Lupin, with a
grin.
“Yes. As Gilbert possessed your complete conﬁdence,
Vaucheray watched him and, in this way, got to know
all the places which you live at. A few days more and,
owning the crystal stopper, holding the list of the
Twenty-seven, inheriting all Daubrecq’s power, he
would have delivered you to the police, without com-
promising a single member of your gang, which he looked
upon as thenceforth his.”
“The ass!” muttered Lupin. “A muddler like that!”
And he added, “So the panels of the doors . . .”
“Were cut out by his instructions, in anticipation
of the contest on which he was embarking against you
and against Daubrecq, at whose house he did the same
thing. He had under his orders a sort of acrobat, an
extraordinarily thin dwarf, who was able to wriggle
through those apertures and who thus detected all your
correspondence and all your secrets. That is what his
two friends revealed to me. I at once conceived the
idea of saving my elder son by making use of his brother,
my little Jacques, who is himself so slight and so intelli-
gent, so plucky, as you have seen. We set out that
night. Acting on the information of my companions,
I went to Gilbert’s rooms and found the keys of
your ﬂat in the Rue Matignon, where it appeared that
you were to sleep. Unfortunately, I changed my mind


104 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
on the way and thought much less of asking for your
help than of recovering the crystal stopper, which, if it
had been discovered at Enghien, must obviously be at
your ﬂat. I was right in my calculations. In a few
minutes, my little Jacques, who had slipped into your
bedroom, brought it to me. I went away quivering with
hope. Mistress in my turn of the talisman, keeping it
to myself, without telling Prasville, I had absolute power
over Daubrecq. I could make him do all that I wanted;
he would become the slave of my will and, instructed by
me, would take every step in Gilbert’s favour and obtain
that he should be given the means of escape or else that
he should not be sentenced. It meant my boy’s safety.”
“Well?”
Clarisse rose from her seat, with a passionate move-
ment of her whole being, leant over Lupin and said, in a
hollow voice:
“There was nothing in that piece of crystal, nothing,
do you understand? No paper, no hiding-place! The
whole expedition to Enghien was futile! The murder of
Léonard was useless! The arrest of my son was useless!
All my efforts were useless!”
“But why? Why?”
“Why? Because what you stole from Daubrecq was
not the stopper made by his instructions, but the stopper
which was sent to John Howard, the Stourbridge glass-
worker, to serve as a model.”
If Lupin had not been in the presence of so deep a
grief, he could not have refrained from one of those
satirical outbursts with which the mischievous tricks of
fate are wont to inspire him. As it was, he muttered
between his teeth:
“How stupid! And still more stupid as Daubrecq
had been given the warning.”


THE TWENTY—SEVEN 105
“N 0,” she said. “ I went to Enghien on the same day.
In all that business Daubrecq saw and sees nothing
but an ordinary burglary, an annexation of his treasures.
The fact that you took part in it put him off the
scent.”
“Still, the disappearance of the stopper . . .”
“To begin with, the thing can have had but a sec-
ondary importance for him, as it is only the model.”
“How do you know?”
“There is a scratch at the bottom of the stem; and I
have made inquiries in England since.”
“Very well; but why did the key of the cupboard
from which it was stolen never leave the man-servant’s
possession? And why, in the second place, was it found
afterward in the drawer of a table in Daubrecq’s house
in Paris?”
“Of course, Daubrecq takes care of it and clings to it
in the way in which one clings to the model of any val-
uable thing. And that is why I replaced the stopper
in the cupboard before its absence was noticed. And
that also is why, on the second occasion, I made my
little Jacques take the stopper from your overcoat-
pocket and told the portress to put it back in the
drawer.”
“Then he suspects nothing?”
“Nothing. He knows that the list is being looked
for, but he does not know that Prasville and I are aware
of the thing in which he hides it.”
Lupin had risen from his seat and was walking up and
down the room, thinking. Then he stood still beside
Clarisse and asked:
“When all is said, since the Enghien incident, you have
not advanced a single step?”
“Not one. I have acted from day to day, led by


106 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
those two men or leading them. without any deﬁnite
plan.”
“Or, at least,” he said, “without any other plan than
that of getting the list of the Twenty-seven from Dau-
brecq.”
“Yes, but how? Besides, your tactics made things
more diﬂicult for me. It did not take us long to recog-
nize your old servant Victoire in Daubrecq’s new cook
and to discover, from what the portress told us, that
Victoire was putting you up in her room; and I was
afraid of your schemes.”
“It was you, was it not, who wrote to me to retire
from the contest?”
‘KYes.’,
“You also'asked me not to go to the theatre on the
Vaudeville night?”
“Yes, the portress caught Victoire listening to Dau-
brecq’s conversation with me on the telephone; and the
Masher, who was watching the house, saw you go out.
I suspected, therefore, that you would follow Daubrecq
that evening.”
“And the woman who came here, late one after-
noon . . . ?”
“Was myself. I felt disheartened and wanted to see
you.”
“And you intercepted Gilbert’s letter? ”
“Yes, I recognized his writing on the envelope.”
“But your little Jacques was not with you?”
“N o, he was outside, in a motor-car, with the Masher,
who lifted him up to me through the drawing-room
window; and he slipped into your bedroom through the
opening in the panel.”
“What was in the letter?” '
“As ill-luck would have it, reproaches. Gilbert ac-


THE TWENTY-SEVEN 107
cused you of forsaking him, of taking over the business
on your own account. In short, it conﬁrmed me in my
distrust; and I ran away.”
Lupin shrugged his shoulders with irritation:
“What a shocking waste of time! And what a fa-
tality that we were not able to come to an understanding
earlier! You and I have been playing at hide-and-seek,
laying absurd traps for each other, while the days were
passing, precious days beyond repair.”
“You see, you see,” she said, shivering, “you too are
afraid of the future!”
“No, I am not afraid,” cried Lupin. “But I am
thinking of all the useful work that we could have done
by this time, if we had united our efforts. I am thinking
of all the mistakes and all the acts of imprudence which
we should have been saved, if we had been working to-
gether. I am thinking that your attempt to-night to
search the clothes which Daubrecq was wearing was as
vain as the others and that, at this moment, thanks to
our foolish duel, thanks to the din which we raised in his
house, Daubrecq is warned and will be more on his
guard than ever.”
Clarisse Mergy shook her head:
“No, no, I don’t think that; the noise will not have
roused him, for we postponed the attempt for twenty-
four hours so that the portress might put a narcotic
in his wine.” And she added, slowly, “And then, you
see, nothing can make Daubrecq be more on his guard
than he is already. His life is nothing but one mass
of precautions against danger. He leaves nothing to
chance. . . . Besides, has he not all the trumps in
his hand?”
Lupin went up to her and asked:
“What do you mean to convey? According to you, r‘


108 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
is there nothing to hope for on that side? Is there not
a single means of attaining our end?”
“Yes,” she murmured, “there is one, one only . .
He noticed her pallor before she had time to hide her
face between her hands again. And again a feverish
shiver shook her frame.
He seemed to understand the reason of her dismay;
and, bending toward her, touched by her grief:
“Please,” he said, “please answer me openly and
frankly. It’s for Gilbert’s sake, is it not? .
Though the police, fortunately, have not been able to
solve the riddle of his past, though the real name of
Vaucheray’s accomplice has not leaked out, there is one
man, at least, who knows it: isn’t that so? Daubrecq
has recognized your son Antoine, through the alias of
Gilbert, has he not?”
“Yes, yes .”
“And he promises to save him, doesn’t he? He
offers you his freedom, his release, his escape, his
life: that was what he offered you, was it not, on
the night in his study, when you tried to stab
him? 7,
“Yes . . . yes . . . thatwasit
“And he makes one condition, does he not? An
abominable condition, such as would suggest itself to a
wretch like that? I am right, am I not? ”
Clarisse did not reply. She seemed exhausted by her
protracted struggle with a man who was gaining ground
daily and against whom it was impossible for her to
ﬁght. Lupin saw in her the prey conquered in advance,
delivered to the victor’s whim. Clarisse Mergy, the
loving wife of that Mergy whom Daubrecq had really
murdered, the terriﬁed mother of that Gilbert whom
Daubrecq had led astray, Clarisse Mergy, to save her
7)
o
1)
o


THE TWENTY—SEVEN 109
son from the scaffold, must, come what may and how~
ever ignominious the position, yield to Daubrecq’s
wishes. She would be the mistress, the wife, the obe—
dient slave, of Daubrecq, of that monster with the
appearance and the ways of a wild beast, that unspeak-
able person of whom Lupin could not think without
revulsion and disgust. ‘
Sitting down beside her, gently, with gestures of pity,
he made her lift her head and, with his eyes on
hers, said:
“Listen to me. I swear that I will save your son:
I swear it. . . . Your son shall not die, do you
understand? . . . There is not a power on earth
that can allow your son’s head to be touched as long as
I am alive.”
“I believe you. . . . I trust your word.”
“Do. It is the word of a man who does not know
defeat. I shall succeed. Only, I entreat you to make
me an irrevocable promise.”
“What is that?”
“You must not see Daubrecq again.”
“I swear it.”
“You must put from your mind any idea, any fear,
however obscure, of an understanding between yourself
and him . . . of any sort of bargain .”
“I swear it.”
She looked at him with an expression of absolute
security and reliance; and he, under her gaze, felt the joy
of devotion and an ardent longing to restore that
woman’s happiness, or, at least, to give her the peace
and oblivion that heal the worst wounds:
“Come,” he said, in a cheerful tone, rising from his
chair, “all will yet be well. We have two months, three
months before us. It is more than I need . . . on


110 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
condition, of course, that I am unhampered in my move-
ments. And, for that, you will have to withdraw from
the contest, you know.”
“How do you mean?”
“Yes, you must disappear for a time; go and live in
the country. Have you no pity for your little Jacques?
This sort of thing would end by shattering the poor
little man’s nerves. . . . And he has certainly
earned his rest, haven’t you, Hercules?
The next day Clarisse Mergy, who was nearly break-
ing down under the strain of events and who herself
needed repose, lest she should fall seriously ill, went,
with her son, to board with a friend who had a house
on the skirt of the Forest of Saint-Germain. She felt
very weak, her brain was haunted by visions and her
nerves were upset by troubles which the least excite-
ment aggravated. She lived there for some days in
a state of physical and mental inertia, thinking of noth-
ing and forbidden to see the papers.
One afternoon, while Lupin, changing his tactics, was
working out a scheme for kidnapping and conﬁning
Daubrecq; while the Growler and the Masher, whom he
had promised to forgive if he succeeded, were watching
the enemy’s movements; while the newspapers were
announcing the forthcoming trial for murder of Arsene
Lupin’s two accomplices, one afternoon, at four o’clock,
the telephone-bell rang suddenly in the ﬂat in the Rue
Chateaubriand.
Lupin took down the receiver:
“Hullo!”
A woman’s voice, a breathless voice, said:
“M. Michel Beaumont?”


112 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
“ Is the doctor anxious about her?”
“He is afraid of a ﬁt of fever, any nervous strain, an
attack of some kind which might cause her to make a
fresh attempt on her life. And that would be . . .”
“What is needed to avoid it?”
“A week or a fortnight of absolute quiet, which is
impossible as long as her little Jacques . . .”
Lupin interrupted her:
“You think that, if she got her son back . . . ? ”
“Oh, certainly, there would be nothing more to fear!”
“You’re sure? You’re sure? . . . Yes, of course
you are! . . . Well, when Madame Mergy wakes,
tell her from me that I will bring her back her son this
evening, before midnight. This evening, before mid-
night: it’s a solemn promise.”
With these words, Lupin hurried out of the house and,
stepping into his car, shouted to the driver:
“Go to Paris, Square Lamartine, Daubrecq the
deputy’s!”


CHAPTER VI
rrrr: DEATH-SENTENCE
UPIN’S motor-car was not only an oﬂice, a writing-
room furnished with books, stationery, pens and
ink, but also a regular actor’s dressing-room, containing
a complete make-up box, a trunk ﬁlled with every
variety of wearin -apparel, another crammed with
“properties” -— um rellas, walking-sticks, scarves, eye-
glasses and so on — in short, a complete set of parapher-
nalia which enabled him to alter his appearance from top
to toe in the course of a drive.
The man who rang at Daubrecq the deputy’s gate, at
six o’clock that evening, was a stout, elderly gentleman,
in a black frock-coat, a bowler hat, spectacles and
whiskers.
The portress took him to the front-door of the house
and rang the bell. Victoire appeared.
Lupin asked:
“Can M. Daubrecq see Dr. Vernes?”
“M. Daubrecq is in his bedroom; and it is rather
late. . . .”
“Give him my card, please. ”
He wrote the words, “From Mme. Mergy,” in the '
margin and added:
“There, he is sure to see me.”
“But . . .” Victoire began.
“Oh, drop your buts, old dear, do as I say, and don’t
make such a fuss about it!”
113


114 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
She was utterly taken aback and stammered:
“You! . . . Is it you?”
“No, it’s Louis XIV.!” And, pushing her into a
corner of the hall, “Listen. . . . The moment I’m
alone with him, go up to your room, put your things
together anyhow and clear out. ”
“What!!!
“Do as I tell you. You’ll ﬁnd my car waiting down
the avenue. Come, stir your stumps! Announce me.
I’ll wait in the study. ”
“But it’s dark in there.”
“Turn on the light. ”
She switched on the electric light and left Lupin
alone.
“It’s here,” be reﬂected, as he took a seat, “it’s here
that the crystal stopper lives. . . . Unless Dau-
brecq always keeps it by him. . . . But no, when
people have a good hiding-place, they make use of it.
And this is a capital one; for none of us . . . so
far . . .” .
Concentrating all his attention, he examined the
objects in the room; and he remembered the note which
Daubrecq wrote to Prasville:
“Within reach of your hand, my dear Prasville!
You touched it! A little more and the trick
was done. .”
Nothing seemed to have moved since that day. The
same things were lying about on the desk: books,
account-books, a bottle of ink, a stamp-box, pipes, to-
bacco, things that had been searched and probed over
and over again.
"The bounder!” thought Lupin. “He’s organized


THE DEATH—SENTENCE 115
his business jolly cleverly. It’s all dove-tailed like a
well-made play.”
In his heart of hearts, though he knew exactly what he
had come to do and how he meant to act, Lupin was
thoroughly aware of the danger and uncertainty attend-
ing his visit to so powerful an adversary. It was quite
within the bounds of possibility that Daubrecq, armed as
he was, would remain master of the ﬁeld and that the
conversation would take an absolutely different turn
from that which Lupin anticipated.
And this prospect angered him somewhat.
He drew himself up, as he heard a sound of footsteps
approaching.
Daubrecq entered.
He entered without a word, made a sign to Lupin, who
had risen from his chair, to resume his seat and himself
sat down at the writing-desk. Glancing at the card
which he held in his hand:
“Dr. Vernes?”
“Yes, monsieur le député, Dr. Vernes, of Saint-
Germain.”
“And I see that you come from Mme. Mergy. A
patient of yours?
“A recent patient. I did not know her until I was
called in to see her, the other day, in particularly tragic
circumstances. ”
“Is she ill?”
“Mme. Mergy has taken poison.”
“What!7’
Daubrecq gave a start and he continued, without
concealing his distress:
“What’s that you say? Poison! Is she dead?”
“No, the dose was not large enough. If no complica-
tions ensue, I consider that Mme. Mergy’s life is saved. ’’


THE DEATH—SENTEN CE 117
certain that, in the lady’s highly nervous state of
mind. . . . Of course, I don’t know the exact
meaning of her words. . . I asked no questions of
anybody . . . obeyed a spontaneous impulse and
came straight to you. . . .”
Daubrecq reﬂected for a little while and said:
“ It amounts to this, doctor, that you have come to ask
me if I know the whereabouts of this child
whom I presume to have disappeared. Is that it?”
“Yes.” _
“And, if I did happen to know, you would take him
back to his mother?”
“Yes. 77
There was a longer pause. Lupin asked himself:
“Can he by chance have swallowed the story? Is
the threat of that death enough? Oh, nonsense .
it’s out of the question! . . . And yet . . . and
yet . . . he seems to be hesitating.”
“Will you excuse me?” asked Daubrecq, drawing the
telephone, on his writing-desk, toward him. “I have
an urgent message . . . . ” ‘
“Certainly, monsieur le député.”
Daubrecq called out:
“Hullo! . . . 822.19, please, 822.19.”
Having repeated the number, he sat without moving.
Lupin smiled:
“The headquarters of police. isn’t it? The secretary-
general’s oﬂice . . . ?”
“Yes, doctor. . . . How do you know?”
“Oh, as a divisional surgeon, I sometimes have to ring
them up. ”
And, within himself, Lupin asked:
“What the devil does all this mean? The secretary-
general is Prasville. . . . Then, what? . . .”


118 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
Daubrecq put both receivers to his ears and said:
“Are you 822.19? . . . I want to speak to M.
Prasville, the secretary-general. . . . Do you say
he’s not there? . . . Yes, yes, he is: he’s always in his
ofﬁce at this time. . . . Tell him it’s M. Daubrecq
M. Daubrecq the deputy . . . a most
important communication.”
“Perhaps I’m in the way?” Lupin suggested.
“Not at all, doctor, not at all,” said Daubrecq. “Be-
sides, what I have to say has a certain bearing on your
errand.” And, into the telephone, “Hullo! . . .
M. Prasville? . . . Ah, it’s you, Prasville, old
cock! . . . Why, you seem quite staggered!
Yes, you’re right, it’s an age since you and I met. .
But, after all, we’ve never been far away in thought.
And I’ve had plenty of visits from you and your
henchmen. . . . In my absence, it’s true. . . .
Hullo! . . . What? . . . Oh, you’re in a hurry?
I beg your pardon! . . . So am I, for that matter.
. . Well, to come to the point, there’s a little ser-
vice I want to do you. . . . Wait, can’t you, you
brute? . . . You won’t regret it. . . . It con-
cerns your renown. . . . Hullo! . . . Are you
listening? . . . Well, take half—a-dozen men with
you . . . plain-clothes detectives, by preference:
you’ll ﬁnd them at the night-oﬂice. . . . Jump into
a taxi, two taxis, and come along here as fast as you can
. . I’ve got arare quarry for you, old chap. . . .
One of the upper ten . . . alord,amarquis . .
Napoleon himself . . . in a word, Arséne Lupin!”
Lupin sprang to his feet. He was prepared for
everything but this. Yet something within him
stronger than astonishment, an impulse of his whole
nature, made him say, with a laugh:


THE DEATH~SENTENCE 121
look as if your nose were out of joint. Come, console
yourself and admit that one sometimes comes across a
joker who’s not quite such a mug as his fellows. So you
thought that, because I wear spectacles and eye-glasses,
I was blind? Bless my soul, I don’t say that I at once
suspected Lupin behind Polonius and Polonius behind
the gentleman who came and bored me in the box at the
Vaudeville. No, no! But, all the same, it worried me.
I could see that, between the police and Mme. Mergy,
there was a third bounder trying to get a ﬁnger in the pie.
And, gradually, what with the words let fall by the
portress, what with watching the movements of my
cook and making inquiries about her in the proper
quarter, I began to understand. Then, the other night,
came the lightning-ﬂash. I heard the row in the house,
in spite of my being asleep. I managed to reconstruct
the incident, to follow up Mme. Mergy’s traces, ﬁrst,
to the Rue Chateaubriand and, afterward, to Saint-
Germain. . . . And then . . . what then? I
put different facts together: the Enghien burglary
. . . Gilbert’s arrest . . . the inevitable treaty
of alliance between the weeping mother and the leader of
the gang . . . the old nurse installed as cook
. . . all these people entering my house through the
doors or through the windows. . . . And I knew
what I had to do. Master Lupin was sniﬂing at the
secret. The scent of the Twenty-seven attracted him.
I had only to wait for his visit. The hour has arrived.
Good-evening, Master Lupin.”
Daubrecq paused. He had delivered his speech with
the evident satisfaction of a man entitled to claim the
appreciation of the most captions critics.
As Lupin did not speak, he took out his watch:
“I say! Only twenty-three minutes! How time


122 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
ﬂies! At this rate, we sha’n’t have time to come to an
explanation.” And, stepping still closer to Lupin,
“I’m bound to say, I’m disappointed. I thought that
Lupin was a diﬁerent sort of gentleman. So, the mo-
ment he meets a more or less serious adversary, the
colossus falls to pieces? Poor young man!
Have a glass of water, to bring you round!”
Lupin did not utter a word, did not betray a gesture of
irritation. With absolute composure, with a precision of
movement that showed his perfect self-control and the
clear plan of conduct which he had adopted, he gently
pushed Daubrecq aside, went to the table and, in his
turn, took down the receiver of the telephone:
“I want 565.34, please,” he said.
He waited until he was through; and then, speaking in
a slow voice and picking out every syllable, he said:
“Hullo! . . . Rue Chateaubriand? . . . Is
that you, Achille? . . . Yes, it’s the governor.
Listen to me carefully, Achille. . . . You
must leave the ﬂat! Hullo! . . . Yes, at once.
The police are coming in a few minutes.
No, no, don’t lose your head. . . . You’ve
got time. Only, do what I tell you. Is your bag still
packed? . . . Good. And is one of the sides
empty, as I told you? . . . Good. Well, go to my
bedroom and stand with your face to the chimney-
piece. Press with your left hand on the little carved
rosette in front of the marble slab, in the middle, and
with your right hand on the top of the mantel-shelf.
You’ll see a sort of drawer, with two little boxes in it.
Be careful. One of them contains all our papers; the
other, bank-notes and jewellery. Put them both in the
empty compartment of the bag. Take the bag in your
hand and go as fast as you can, on foot, to the corner of


THE DEATH-SENTENCE 128
the Avenue Victor-Hugo and the Avenue de Montespan.
You’ll ﬁnd the car waiting, with Victoire. I’ll join you
there... What?... MyclothesP...
My knickknacks? . . . Never mind about all that.
You be off. See you presently. ”
Lupin quietly pushed away the telephone. Then,
taking Daubrecq by the arm, he made him sit in a chair
by his side and said:
“And now listen to me, Daubrecq.”
“Oho!” grinned the deputy. “Calling each other by
our surnames, are we?
“Yes,” said Lupin, “I allowed you to.” And, when
Daubrecq released his arm with a certain misgiving, he
said, “No, don’t be afraid. We sha’n’t come to blows.
Neither of us has anything to gain by doing away with
the other. A stab with a knife? What’s the good?
N o, sir! Words, nothing but words. Words that strike
home, though. Here are mine: they are plain and to the
point. Answer me in the same way, without reﬂecting:
that’s far better. The boy?”
“I have him.”
“Give him back.”
“ NoI !)
“Mme. Mergy will kill herself.”
“No, she won’t.”
“I tell you she will.”
“And I tell you she will not.”
“But she’s tried to, once.”
“That’s just the reason why she won’t try again.”
“Well, then . . .”
“No l H
Lupin, after a moment, went on:
“I expected that. Also, I thought, on my way here,
that you would hardly tumble to the story of Dr.


124 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
Vernes and that I should have to use other methods.”
“Lupin’s methods. ”
“As you say. I had made up my mind to throw off
the mask. You pulled it off for me. Well done you!
But that doesn’t change my plans.”
l‘speak. 7,
Lupin took from a pocketbook a double sheet of
foolscap paper, unfolded it and handed it to Daubrecq,
saying:
“Here is an exact, detailed inventory, with consecu-
tive numbers, of the things removed by my friends and
myself from your Villa Marie-Thérese on the Lac
d’Enghien. As you see, there are one hundred and thir-
teen items. Of those one hundred and thirteen items,
sixty-eight, which have a red cross against them, have
been sold and sent to America. The remainder, num—
bering forty-ﬁve, are in my possession . . . until
further orders. They happen to be the pick of the
bunch. I offer you them in return for the immediate
surrender of the child.
Daubrecq could not suppress a movement of surprise:
“Oho!” he said. “You seem very much bent upon
it.”
“Inﬁnitely,” said Lupin, “for I am persuaded that a
longer separation from her son will mean death to Mme.
Mergy.”
“And that upsets you, does it . . . Lothario?”
‘lWhat!7,
Lupin planted himself in front of the other and
repeated:
“What! What do you mean?”
“Nothing. . . . Nothing. . . . Something
that crossed my mind . . . Clarisse Mergy is
a young woman still and a pretty woman at that."


THE DEATH-SENTEN CE 125
Lupin shrugged his shoulders:
“You brute!” he mumbled. “You imagine that
everybody is like yourself, heartless and pitiless. It
takes your breath away, what, to think that a shark like
me can waste his time playing the Don Quixote? And
you wonder what dirty motive I can have? Don’t try
to ﬁnd out: it’s beyond your powers of perception.
Answer me, instead: do you accept?”
" “So you’re serious?” asked Daubrecq, who seemed
but little disturbed by Lupin’s contemptuous tone.
“Absolutely. The forty-ﬁve pieces are in a shed, of
which I will give you the address, and they will be
handed over to you, if you call there, at nine o’clock this
evening, with the child.”
There was no doubt about Daubrecq’s reply. To
him, the kidnapping of little Jacques had represented
only a means of working upon Clarisse Mergy’s feelings
and perhaps also a warning for her to cease the contest
upon which she had engaged. But the threat of a sui-
cide must needs show Daubrecq that he was on the
wrong track._ That being so; why refuse the favour-
able bargain which Arsene Lupin was now offering
him?
“I accept,” he said.
“Here’s the address of my shed: 99, Rue Charles-
Laﬁtte, Neuilly. You have only to ring the bell.”
“And suppose 'I send Prasville, the secretary-general,
instead ?”
“If you send Prasville,” Lupin declared, “the place
is so arranged that I shall see him coming and that I
shall have time to escape, after setting ﬁre to the trusses
of hay and straw which surround and conceal your
credence.tables, clocks and Gothic virgins.”
“But your shed will be burnt down.
”
u


126 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
“I don’t mind that: the police have their eye on it
already. I am leaving it in any case.”
“And how am I to know that this is not a trap?”
“Begin by receiving the goods and don’t give up the
.1- child till afterward. I trust you, you see.”
“ Good, ” said Daubrecq; “you’ve foreseen everything.
Very well, you shall have the nipper; the fair Clarisse
shall live; and we will all be happy. And now, if I may
give you a word of advice, it is to pack off as fast as you
can. ,7
“Not yet. ”
“Eh? H
“I said, not yet.”
“But you’re mad! Prasville’s on his way!”
“He can wait. I’ve not done.”
“Why, what more do you want? Clarisse shall have
her brat. Isn’t that enough for you?”
“ No. ,’
“Why not?”
“There is another son.”
“Gilbert.”
‘K ”
‘lWeHP ’,
“I want you to save Gilbert.”
“What are you saying? I save Gilbert!”
“You can, if you like; it only means taking a little
trouble. . . _. ”
Until that moment Daubrecq had remained quite
calm. He now suddenly blazed out and, striking the
table with his ﬁst:
“No,” he cried, “not that! Never! Don’t reckon
on me! . . . No, that would be too idiotic!”
He walked up and down, in a state of intense excite-
ment, with that queer step of his, which swayed him


THE DEATH—SENTENCE 127
from right to left on each of his legs, like a wild beast, a
heavy, clumsy bear. And, with a hoarse voice and dis-
torted features, he shouted:
“Let her come here! Let her come and beg for her
son’s pardon! But let her come unarmed, not with
criminal intentions, like last time! Let her come as a
supplicant, as a tamed woman, as a submissive woman,
who understands and accepts the situation .
Gilbert? Gilbert’s sentence? The scaffold? Why,
that is where my strength lies! What! For more than
twenty years have I awaited my hour; and, when that
hour strikes, when fortune brings me this unhoped-for
chance, when I am at last about to know the joy of a full
revenge — and such a revenge! —you think that I will
give it up, give up the thing which I have been pursuing
for twenty years? I save Gilbert? I? For nothing?
For love? I, Daubrecq? . . . No, no, you can’t
have studied my features!”
He laughed, with a ﬁerce and hateful laugh. Visibly,
he saw before him, within reach of his hand, the prey
which he had been hunting down so long. And Lupin
also summoned up the vision of Clarisse, as he had seen
her several days before, fainting, already beaten, fatally
conquered, because all the hostile powers were in league
against her.
He contained himself and said:
“Listen to me. ”
And, when Daubrecq moved away impatiently, he
took him by the two shoulders, with that superhuman
strength which Daubrecq knew, from having felt it in
the box at the Vaudeville, and, holding him motion]
in his grip, he said: \
“One last word.”
“You’re wasting your breath,” growled the deputy.


THE DEATH—SENTENCE 129
“There is.”
“What is it?”
“My name is Arséne Lupin.”
He had let go of Daubrecq, but held him for a time
under the dominion of his authoritative glance and will.
At last, Daubrecq drew himself up, gave him a couple of
sharp taps on the shoulder and, with the same calm, the
same intense obstinacy, said:
“And my name’s Daubrecq. My whole life has been
one desperate battle, one long series of catastrophes and
routs in which I spent all my energies until victory came:
complete, decisive, crushing, irrevocable victory. I have
against me the police, the government, France, the world.
What diﬁerence do you expect it to make to me if I
have M. Arsene Lupin against me into the bargain? I
will go further: the more numerous and skiliul my ene-
mies, the more cautiously I am obliged to play. And
that is why, my dear sir, instead of having you arrested,
as I might have done — yes, as I might have done and
very easily — I let you remain at large and beg charitably
to remind you that you must quit in less than three
minutes.”
“Then the answer is no?”
“The answer is no. ”
“You won’t do anything for Gilbert?”
“Yes, I shall continue to do what I have been doing
since his arrest— that is to say, to exercise indirect in-
ﬂuence with the minister of justice, so that the trial may
be hurried on and end in the way in which I want to see
it end.”
“What!” cried Lupin, beside himself with indigna-
tion. “It’s because of you, it’s for you .”
“Yes, it’s for me, Daubrecq; yes, by Jove! I have a
trump card, the son’s head, and I am playing it. When


130 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
I have procured a nice little death-sentence for Gilbert,
when the days go by and Gilbert’s petition for a reprieve
is rejected by my good oﬂices, you shall see, M. Lupin,
that his mummy will drop all her objections to calling
herself Mme. Alexis Daubrecq and giving me an unex-
ceptionable pledge of her good-will. That fortunate
issue is inevitable, whether you like it or not. It is
foredoomed. All I can do for you is to invite you to the
wedding and the breakfast. Does that suit you? No?
You persist in your sinister designs? Well, good luck,
lay your traps, spread your nets, rub up your weapons
and grind away at the Complete Foreign-post-paper
Burglar’s Handbook. You’ll need it. And now, good-
night. The rules of open-handed and disinterested
hospitality demand that I should turn you out of doors.
Hop it!”
Lupin remained silent for some time. With his eyes
ﬁxed on Daubrecq, he seemed to be taking his adver-
sary’s size, gauging his weight, estimating his physical
strength, discussing, in ﬁne, in which exact part to
attack him. Daubrecq clenched his ﬁsts and worked
out his plan of defence to meet the attack when it
came.
Half a minute passed. Lupin put his hand to his
hip-pocket. Daubrecq did the same and grasped the
handle of his revolver. .
A few seconds more. Coolly, Lupin produced a little
gold box, of the kind that ladies use for holding sweets,
opened it and handed it to Daubrecq:
“A lozenge?”
“What’s that?” asked the other, in surprise.
“ Cough-drops. ”
“What for?”
“For the draught you’re going to feel!”


THE DEATH—SENTENCE 131
And, taking advantage of the momentary ﬂuster into
which Daubrecq was thrown by his sally, he quickly took
his hat and slipped away.
“Of course,” he said, as he crossed the hall, “I am
knocked into ﬁts. But all the same, that bit of commer-
cial-traveller’s waggery was rather novel, in the circum-
stances. To expect a pill and receive a cough-drop
is by way of being a sort of disappointment.
It left the old chimpanzee quite ﬂummox ."
As he closed the gate, a motor-car drove up and a
man sprang out briskly, followed by several others.
Lupin recognized Prasville:
“Monsieur 1e secrétaire—général,” he muttered, “your
humble servant. I have an idea that, some day, fate
will bring us face to face: and I am sorry, for your sake;
for you do not inspire me with any particular esteem and
you have a bad time before you, on that day. Mean-
while, if I were notin such a hurry, I should wait till you
leave and I should follow Daubrecq to ﬁnd out in whose
charge he has placed the child whom he is going to hand
back to me. But I am in a hurry. Besides, I can’t tell
that Daubrecq won’t act by telephone. So let us not
waste ourselves in vain efforts, but rather join Victoire,
Achille and our precious bag. ”
Two hours later, Lupin, after taking all his measures,
was on the lookout in his shed at Neuilly and saw
Daubrecq turn out of an adjoining street and walk along
with a distrustful air.
Lupin himself opened the double doors:
“Your things are in here, monsieur 1e député,” he
said. “You can go round and look. There is a job-
master’s yard next door: you have only to ask for a van
and a few men. Where is the child?” \
Daubrecq ﬁrst inspected the articles and then took


132 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER '
Lupin to the Avenue de Neuilly, where two closely
veiled old ladies stood waiting with little Jacques.
Lupin carried the child to his car, where Victoire was
waiting for him.
All this was done swiftly, without useless words and as
though the parts had been got by heart and the various
movements settled in advance, like so many stage en-
trances and exits.
At ten o’clock in the evening Lupin kept his promise
and handed little Jacques to his mother. But the doc—
tor had to be hurriedly called in, for the child, upset by
all those happenings, showed great signs of excitement
and terror. It was more than a fortnight before he was
sufficiently recovered to bear the strain of the removal
which Lupin considered necessary. Mme. Mergy her-
self was only just ﬁt to travel when the time came.
The journey took place at night, with every possible
precaution and under Lupin’s escort.
He took the mother and son to a little seaside place in
Brittany and entrusted them to Victoire’s care and
vigilance.
“At last,” he reﬂected, when he had seen them
settled, “there is no one between the Daubrecq bird
and me. He can do nothing more to Mme. Mergy and
the kid; and she no longer runs the risk of diverting the
struggle through her intervention. By Jingo, we have
made blunders enough! First, I have had to disclose
myself to Daubrecq. Secondly, I have had to surrender
my share of the Enghien movables. True, I shall get
those back, sooner or later; of that there is not the
least doubt. But, all the same, we are not getting on;
and, in a week from now, Gilbert and Vaucheray will be
up for trial.”
What Lupin felt most in the whole business was


134 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
or took the underground or a tram; and the cage re_
mained unoccupied.
Lupin devised another plan. He sent to Marseilles
for one of his associates, an elderly retired grocer called
Brindebois, who happened to live in Daubrecq’s electoral
district and interested himself in politics. Old Brinde-
bois wrote to Daubrecq from Marseilles, announcing his
visit. Daubrecq gave this important constituent a.
hearty welcome, and a dinner was arranged for the fol-
lowing week.
The elector suggested a little restaurant on the left
bank of the Seine, where the food, he said, was some-
thing wonderful. Daubrecq accepted.
This was what Lupin wanted. The proprietor of the
restaurant was one of his friends. The attempt, which
was to take place on the following Thursday, was this
time bound to succeed.
Meanwhile, on the Monday of the same week, the
trial of Gilbert and Vaucheray opened.
The reader will remember — and the case took place
too recently for me to recapitulate its details— the
really incomprehensible partiality which the presiding
judge showed in his cross—examination of Gilbert. The
thing was noticed and severely criticised at the time.
Lupin recognized Daubrecq’s hateful inﬂuence.
The attitude observed by the two prisoners differed
greatly. Vaucheray was gloomy, silent, hard-faced.
He cynically, in curt, sneering, almost deﬁant phrases,
admitted the crimes of which he had formerly been
guilty. But, with an inconsistency which puzzled every-
body except Lupin, he denied any participation in the
murder of Léonard the valet and violently accused Gil-


THE DEATH—SENTENCE 135
bert. His object, in thus linking his fate with Gilbert’s,
was to force Lupin to take identical measures for the
rescue of both his accomplices.
Gilbert, on the other hand, whose frank countenance
and dreamy, melancholy eyes won every sympathy, was
unable to protect himself against the traps laid for him
by the judge or to counteract Vaucheray’s lies. He burst
into tears, talked too much, or else did not talk when he
should have talked. Moreover, his counsel, one of the
leaders of the bar, was taken ill at the last moment —
and here again Lupin saw the hand of Daubrecq — and
he was replaced by a junior who spoke badly, muddled
the whole case, set the jury against him and failed to
wipe out the impression produced by the speeches of
the advocate-general and of Vaucheray’s counsel.
Lupin, who had the inconceivable audacity to be
present on the last day of the trial, the Thursday, had
no doubt as to the result. A verdict of guilty was cer-
tain in both cases.
It was certain because all the efforts of the prosecu-
tion, thus supporting Vaucheray’s tactics, had tended
to link the two prisoners closely together. It was cer-
tain, also and above all, because it concerned two of
Lupin’s accomplices. From the opening of the inquiry
before the magistrate until the delivery of the verdict,
all the proceedings had been directed against Lupin; and
this in spite of the fact that the prosecution, for want of
suﬂicient evidence and also in order not to scatter its
eﬁorts over too wide an area, had decided not to include
Lupin in the indictment. He was the adversary aimed
at, the leader who must be punished in the person of his
friends, the famous and popular scoundrel whose fasci-
nation in the eyes of the crowd must be destroyed for
good and all. With Gilbert and Vaucheray executed,


136 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER


Lupin’s halo would fade away the legend would be ex-
ploded. .
Lupin . . . Lupin . . . Arséne Lupin: it
was the one name heard throughout the four days. The
advocate-general, the presiding judge, the jury, the
counsel, the witnesses had no other words on their lips.
Every moment, Lupin was mentioned and cursed at,
scoffed at, insulted and held responsible for all the
crimes committed. It was as though Gilbert and
Vaucheray ﬁgured only as supernumeraries, while the
real criminal undergoing trial was he, Lupin, Master
Lupin, Lupin the burglar, the leader of a gang of thieves,
the forger, the incendiary, the hardened offender, the
ex-convict, Lupin the murderer, Lupin stained with the
blood of his victim, Lupin lurking in the shade, like a
coward, after sending his friends to the foot of the
scaffold.
“Oh, the rascals know what they’re about!” he mut-
tered. “It’s my debt which they are making my poor
old Gilbert pay.”
And the terrible tragedy went on.
At seven o’clock in the evening, after a long delibera-
tion, the jury returned to court and the foreman read out
the answers to the questions put from the bench. The
answer was “Yes” to every count of the indictment, a
verdict of guilty without extenuating circumstances.
The prisoners were brought in. Standing up, but
staggering and white-faced, they received their sentence
of death.
And, amid the great, solemn silence, in which the
anxiety of the onlookers was mingled with pity, the as-
size—president asked:
“Have you anything more to say, Vaucheray?”
“Nothing, monsieur le président. Now that my mate


THE DEATH—SENTENCE 137
is sentenced as well as myself, I am easy. . . . We
are both on the same footing . . . The governor
must ﬁnd a way to save the two of us.”
“The governor?”
“Yes, Arséne Lupin. ”
There was a laugh among the crowd.
The president asked:
“And you, Gilbert?”
Tears streamed down the poor lad’s cheeks and he
stammered a few inarticulate sentences. But, when the
judge repeated his question, he succeeded in mastering
himself and replied, in a trembling voice:
“I wish to say, monsieur le président, that I am guilty
of many things, that’s true . . . I have done a lot
of harm. . . . But, all the same, not this. . . ..
No, I have not committed murder . . . I have
never committed murder. . . . And I don’t want
to die . . . it would be too horrible. . . .”
He swayed from side to side, supported by the warders,
and he was heard to cry, like a child calling for help:
“Governor . . . save me! . . . Save me!
I don’t want to die!”
Then, in the crowd, amid the general excitement, a
voice rose above the surrounding clamour:
“Don’tbeafraid, little ’un! . . The governor’shere
A tumult and hustling followed. The municipal
guards and the policemen rushed into court and laid
hold of a big, red-faced man, who was stated by his
neighbours to be the author of that outburst and who
struggled hand and foot.
Questioned without delay, he gave his name, Philippe
Bonel, an undertaker’s man, and declared that some one
sitting beside him had offered him a hundred-franc note
if he would consent, at the proper moment, to shout a
'7,


THE DEATH—SENTENCE 139
Daubrecq will be in my hands. To-night, whatever
means I have to employ, he shall speak. ”
“Do you mean that?” she asked, faintly, while a ray
of hope began to light up her face.
“He shall speak. I shall have his secret. I shall
tear the list of the Twenty-seven from him. And that
list will set your son free.”
“Too late,” Clarisse murmured.
“Too late? Why? Do you think that, in exchange
for such a document, I shall not obtain Gilbert’s pre-
tended escape? . . . Why, Gilbert will be at liberty
in three days! In three days . . .”
He was interrupted by a ring at the bell:
“Listen, here are our friends. Trust me. Remember
that I keep my promises. I gave you back your little
Jacques. I shall give you back Gilbert.”
He went to let the Growler and the Masher in and said:
“Is everything ready? Is old Brindebois at the
restaurant? Quick, let us be oﬁ !”
“It’s no use, governor,” replied the Masher.
“No use? What do you mean?”
“There’s news.”
“What news? Speak, man!”
“Daubrecq has disappeared.”
“Eh? What’s that? Daubrecq disappeared?”
“Yes, carried oﬁ from his house, in broad daylight.”
“The devil! By whom?”
“Nobody knows . . . four men . . . there
were pistols ﬁred. . . . The police are on the spot.
Prasville is directing the investigations.”
Lupin did not move a limb. He looked at Clan'sse
Mergy, who lay huddled in a chair.
He himself had to bow his head. Daubrecq carried
oﬂ meant one more chance of success lost. . . .


CHAPTER VII
TEE PROFILE or NAPOLEON
S SOON as the prefect of police, the chief of the
criminal-investigation department and the exam-
ining-magistrates had left Daubrecq’s house, after a
preliminary and entirely fruitless inquiry, Prasville
resumed his personal search.
He was examining the study and the traces of the
struggle which had taken place there, when the portress
brought him a visiting-card, with a few words in pencil
scribbled upon it.
“Show the lady in,” he said.
“The lady has some one with her,” said the por-
tress.
“Oh? Well, show the other person in as well.”
Clarisse Mergy entered at once and introduced the
gentleman with her, a gentleman in a black frock-coat,
which was too tight for him and which looked as though
it had not been brushed for ages. He was shy in his
manner and seemed greatly embarrassed how to dispose
of his old, rusty top-hat, his gingham umbrella, his one
and only glove and his body generally.
“M. Nicole,” said Clarisse, “a private teacher, who
is acting as tutor to my little Jacques. M. Nicole has
been of the greatest help to me with his advice during the
past year. He worked out the whole story of the crystal
stopper. I should like him, as well as myself —if you
see no objection to telling me — to know the details of
140


THE PROFILE OF NAPOLEON . 141
this kidnapping business, which alarms me and upsets
my plans; yours too, I expect?”
Prasville had every conﬁdence in Clarisse Mergy. He
knew her relentless hatred of Daubrecq and appreciated
the assistance which she had rendered in the case. He
therefore made no diﬂiculties about telling her what he
knew, thanks to certain clues and especially to the
evidence of the portress.
For that matter, the thing was exceedingly simple.
Daubrecq, who had attended the trial of Gilbert and
Vaucheray as a witness and who was seen in court during
the speeches, returned home at six o’clock. The por-
tress aﬂirrned that he came in alone and that there was
nobody in the house at the time. Nevertheless, a few
minutes later, she heard shouts, followed by the sound
of a struggle and two pistol-shots; and from her lodge
she saw four masked men scuttle down the front steps,
carrying Daubrecq the deputy, and hurry toward the
gate. They opened the gate. At the same moment,
a motor-car arrived outside the house. The four men
bundled themselves into it; and the motor-car, which
had hardly had time to stop, set off at full speed.
“Were there not always two policemen on duty?”
asked Clarisse.
“They were there,” said Prasville, “but at a hundred
and ﬁfty yards’ distance; and Daubrecq was carried 05
so quickly that they were unable to interfere, although
they hastened up as fast as they could.”
“And did they discover nothing, ﬁnd nothing?”
“Nothing, or hardly anything. . . . Merely this.”
“What is that?”
“A little piece of ivory, which they picked up on the
ground. There was a ﬁfth party in the car; and the
portress saw him get down while the others were hoisting


142 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
Daubrecq in. As he was stepping back into the car, he
dropped something and picked it up again at once. But
the thing, whatever it was, must have been broken on
the pavement; for this is the bit of ivory which my men
found.”
“But how did the four men manage to enter the
house?” asked Clarisse.
“By means of false keys, evidently, while the portress
was doing her shopping, in the course of the afternoon;
and they had no diﬂiculty in secreting themselves, as
Daubrecq keeps no other servants. I have every reason
to believe that they hid in the room next door, which is
the dining-room, and afterward attacked Daubrecq here,
in the study. The disturbance of the furniture and
other articles proves how violent the struggle was. We
found a large-bore revolver, belonging to Daubrecq, on
the carpet. One of the bullets had smashed the glass
over the mantel-piece, as you see.”
Clarisse turned to her companion for him to express an
opinion. But M. Nicole, with his eyes obstinately
lowered, had not budged from his chair and sat fumbling
at the rim of his hat, as though he had not yet found a
proper place for it.
Prasville gave a smile. It was evident that he did
not look upon Clarisse’s adviser as a man of ﬁrst-rate
intelligence:
“The case is somewhat puzzling, monsieur,” he said,
“is it not? ”
“Yes . . . yes,” M. Nicole confessed, “most
puzzling.”
“Then you have no little theory of your own upon the
matter?” ‘
“Well, monsieur 1e secrétaire-général, I'm thinking
that Daubrecq has many enemies.”


THE PROFILE OF NAPOLEON 143
"Ah, capital!”
“And that several of those enemies, who are interested
in his disappearance, must have banded themselves
against him.
“Capital, capital!” said Prasville, with satirical
approval. “Capital! Everything is becoming clear as
daylight. It only remains for you to furnish us with a
little suggestion that will enable us to turn our search
in the right direction.”
“Don’t you think, monsieur le secrétaire-général,
that this broken bit of ivory which was picked up on
the ground . . . ?”
“No, M. Nicole, no. That bit of ivory belongs to
something which we do not know and which its owner
will at once make it his business to conceal. In order to
trace the owner, we should at least be able to deﬁne the
nature of the thing itself.”
M. Nicole reﬂected and then began:
“Monsieur le secrétaire-général, when Napoleon I
fell from power . . .”
“Oh, M. Nicole, oh, a lesson in French history!”
“Only a sentence, monsieur le secrétaire-général, just
one sentence which I will ask your leave to complete.
When Napoleon I fell from power, the Restoration
placed a certain number of oﬂicers on half-pay. These
oﬂicers were suspected by the authorities and kept under
observation by the police. They remained faithful to
the emperor’s memory; and they contrived to reproduce
the features of their idol on all sorts of objects of every-
day use; snuff-boxes, rings, breast-pins, pen-knives and
so on.”
‘f 7,
“Well, this bit comes from a walking-stick, or rather
a sort of loaded cane, or life—preserver, the knob of which


144 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
is formed of a piece of carved ivory. When you look at
the knob in a certain way, you end by seeing that the
outline represents the proﬁle of the Little Corporal.
What you have in your hand, monsieur le secrétaire—
général, is a bit of the ivory knob at the top of a half-pay
oﬂicer’s life-preserver.”
“Yes,” said Prasville, examining the exhibit, “yes, I
can make out a proﬁle . . . but I don’t see the
inference. .”
“The inference is very simple. Among Daubrecq’s
victims, among those whose names are inscribed on the
famous list, is the descendant of a Corsican family in
Napoleon’s service, which derived its wealth and title
from the emperor and was afterward ruined under
the Restoration. It is ten to one that this descendant,
who was the leader of the Bonapartist party a few years
ago, was the ﬁfth person hiding in the motor-car. Need
I state his name?”
“The Marquis d’Albufex?” said Prasville.
“The Marquis d’Albufex,” said M. Nicole.
M. Nicole, who no longer seemed in the least worried
with his hat, his glove and his umbrella, rose and said
to Prasville:
“Monsieur le secrétaire-général, I might have kept
my discovery to myself, and not told you of it until after
the ﬁnal victory, that is, after bringing you the list of the
T wenty-seven. But matters are urgent. Daubrecq’s
disappearance, contrary to what his kidnappers expect,
may hasten on the catastrophe which you wish to avert.
We must therefore act with all speed. Monsieur le
secrétaire-général, I ask for your immediate and practical
assistance.”
“In what way can I help you?” asked Prasville, who
was beginning to be impressed by his quaint visitor.


THE PROFILE OF NAPLOEON 145
“By giving me, to-morrow, those particulars about
the Marquis d’Albufex which it would take me personally
several days to collect.”
Prasville seemed to hesitate and turned his head
toward Mme. Mergy. Clarisse said:
“I beg of you to accept M. Nicole’s services. He is an
invaluable and devoted ally. I will answer for him as I
would for myself.”
“What particulars do you require, monsieur?” asked
Prasville.
“ Everything that concerns the Marquis d’Albufex: the
position of his family, the way in which he spends his
time, his family connections, the properties which he
owns in Paris and in the country.”
Prasville objected:
“After all, whether it’s the marquis or another, Dau-
brecq’s kidnapper is working on our behalf, seeing that,
by capturing the list, he disarms Daubrecq.”
“And who says, monsieur le secrétaire-général, that he
is not working on his own behalf? ”
“That is not possible, as his name is on the list.”
“And suppose he erases it? Suppose you then ﬁnd
yourself dealing with a second blackmailer, even more
grasping and more powerful than the ﬁrst and one who,
as a political adversary, is in a better position than
Daubrecq to maintain the contest? ”
The secretary-general was struck by the argument.
After a moment’s thought, he said:
“Come and see me in my oﬂice at four o’clock to—
morrow. I will give you the particulars. What is
your address, in case I should want you?”
“M. Nicole, 25, Place de Clichy. I am staying at a
friend’s ﬂat, which he has lent me during his absence.”
The interview was at an end. M. Nicole thanked the


THE PROFILE OF NAPOLEON 147
The next day the inquiries of the police conﬁrmed
what Prasville and Lupin already knew. The Marquis
d’Albufex had been very deeply involved in the business
of the canal, so deeply that Prince Napoleon was obliged
to remove him from the management of his political
campaign in France; and he kept up his very extravagant
style of living only by dint of constant loans and make-
shifts. On the other hand, in so far as concerned the
kidnapping of Daubrecq, it was ascertained that, con-
trary to his usual custom, the marquis had not appeared
in his club between six and seven that evening and had
not dined at home. He did not come back until mid-
night; and then he came on foot.
M. Nicole’s accusation, therefore, was receiving an
early proof. Unfortunately — and Lupin was no more
successful in his own attempts—it was impossible to
obtain the least clue as to the motor-car, the chauffeur
and the four people who had entered Daubrecq’s house.
Were they associates of the marquis, compromised in the
canal affair like himself? Were they men in his pay?
Nobody knew.
The whole search, consequently, had to be concen-
trated upon the marquis and the country-seats and
houses which he might possess at a certain distance from
Paris, a distance which, allowing for the average speed of
a motor-car and the inevitable stoppages, could be put
at sixty to ninety miles.
Now d’Albufex, having sold everything that he ever
had, possessed neither country-houses nor landed estates.
They turned their attention to the marquis’ relations
and intimate friends. Was he able on this side to dispose
of some safe retreat in which to imprison Daubrecq?
The result was equally fruitless.
And the days passed. And what days for Clarisse


148 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
Mergy! Each of them brought Gilbert nearer to the
terrible day of reckoning. Each of them meant twenty—
four hours less from the date which Clarisse had in-
stinctively ﬁxed in her mind. And she said to Lupin,
who was racked with the same anxiety:
“Fifty-ﬁve days more. . . . Fifty days more.
. . What can one doinso few days? . . . Oh,
Ibeg of you . . . Ibeg of you . . .”
What could they do indeed? Lupin, who would not
leave the task of watching the marquis to any one but
himself, practically lived without sleeping. But the mar-
quis had resumed his regular life; and, doubtless suspect-
ing something, did not risk going away.
Once alone, he went down to the Duc de Montmaur’s,
in the daytime. The duke kept a pack of boar-hounds,
with which he hunted the Forest of Durlaine. D’Al-
bufex maintained no relations with him outside the hunt.
“It is hardly likely,” said Prasville, “that the Duc
de Montmaur, an exceedingly wealthy man, who is
interested only in his estates and his hunting and takes
no part in politics, should lend himself to the illegal
detention of Daubrecq the deputy in his chateau.”
Lupin agreed; but, as he did not wish to leave anything
to chance, the next week, seeing d’Albufex go out one
morning in riding-dress, he followed him to the Gare du
Nord and took the same train.
He got out at Aumale, where d’Albufex found a
carriage at the station which took him to the Chateau
de Montmaur.
Lupin lunched quietly, hired a bicycle and came in
view of the house at the moment when the guests were
going into the park, in motor-cars or mounted. The
Marquis d’Albufex was one of the horsemen.
Thrice, in the course of the day, Lupin saw him can-


THE PROFILE OF NAPOLEON 149
tering along. And he found him, in the evening, at the
station, where d’Albufex rode up, followed by a hunts-
man.
The proof, therefore, was conclusive; and there was
nothing suspicious on that side. Why did Lupin,
nevertheless, resolve not to be satisﬁed with appearances?
And why, next day, did he send the Masher to ﬁnd out
things in the neighbourhood of Montmaur? It was an
additional precaution, based upon no logical reason, but
agreeing with his methodical and careful manner of
acting.
Two days later he received from the Masher, among
other information of less importance, a list of the house—
party at Montmaur and of all the servants and keepers.
One name struck him, among those of the huntsmen.
He at once wired:
“Inquire about huntsman Sébastiani.”
The Masher’s answer was received the next day:
“Sébastiani, a Corsican, was recommended to the
Due de Montmaur by the Marquis d’Albufex. He
lives at two or three miles from the house, in a hunting-
lodge built among the ruins of the feudal stronghold
which was the cradle of the Montmaur family.”
“That’s it,” said Lupin to Clarisse Mergy, showing
her the Masher’s letter. “That name, Sébastiani, at
once reminded me that d’Albufex is of Corsican descent.
There was a connection . .”
“Then what do you intend to do?”
“If Daubrecq is imprisoned in those ruins, I intend to
enter into communication with him.”


THE PROFILE OF NAPOLEON 151
a loop which is overhung by the enormous cliﬁ of
Mortepierre.
“Nothing to be done on this side,” said Lupin. “The
cliff is steep, over two hundred feet high, and the river
hugs it all round.”
Not far away they found a bridge that led to the foot
of a path which wound, through the oaks and pines, up
to a little esplanade, where stood a massive, iron-bound
gate, studded with nails and ﬂanked on either side by
a large tower.
“Is this where Sébastiani the huntsman lives?”
asked Lupin. .
“Yes,” said the‘ Masher, “with his wife, in a lodge
standing in the midst of the ruins. I also learnt that he
has three tall sons and that all the four were supposed
to be away for a holiday on the day when Daubrecq
was carried off.”
“Oho!” said Lupin. “The coincidence is worth
remembering. It seems likely enough that the business
was done by those chaps and their father.”
Toward the end of the afternoon Lupin availed
himself of a breach to the right of the towers to scale
the curtain. From there he was able to see the
huntsman’s lodge and the few remains of the old
fortress: here, a bit of wall, suggesting the mantel
of a chimney; further away, a water-tank; on this
side, the arches of a chapel; on the other, a heap of
fallen stones.
A patrol-path edged the cliff in front‘, and, at one of
the ends of this patrol-path, there were the remains of
a formidable donjon-keep razed almost level with the
ground.
Lupin returned to Clarisse Mergy in the evening.
And from that time he went backward and forward


152 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
between Amiens and Mortepierre, leaving the Growler
and the Masher permanently on the watch.
And six days passed. Sébastiani’s habits seemed to
be subject solely to the duties of his post. He used to
go up to the Chateau de Montmaur, walk about in the
forest, note the tracks of the game and go his rounds
at night.
But, on the seventh day, learning that there was to be
a meet and that a carriage had been sent to Aumale
Station in the morning, Lupin took up his post in a
cluster of box and laurels which surrounded the little
esplanade in front of the gate.
At two o’clock he heard the pack give tongue. They
approached, accompanied by hunting-cries, and then
drew farther away. He heard them again, about the
middle of the afternoon, not quite so distinctly; and
that was all. But suddenly, amid the silence, the sound
of galloping horses reached his ears; and, a few minutes
later, he saw two riders climbing the river-path.
He recognized the Marquis d’Albufex and Sébastiani.
On reaching the esplanade, they both alighted; and a
woman—the huntsman’s wife, no doubt—opened the
gate. Sébastiani fastened the horses’ bridles to rings
ﬁxed on a post at a few yards from Lupin and ran to
join the marquis. The gate closed behind them.
Lupin did not hesitate; and, though it was still broad
daylight, relying upon the solitude of the place, he
hoisted himself to the hollow of the breach. Passing
his head through cautiously, he saw the two men and
Sébastiani’s wife hurrying toward the ruins of the keep.
The huntsman drew aside a hanging screen of ivy and
revealed the entrance to a stairway, which he went down,
as did d’Albufex, leaving his wife on guard on the terrace.
There was no question of going in after them; and


THE PROFILE OF NAPOLEON 153 ‘
Lupin returned to his hiding-place. He did not wait
long before the gate opened again.
The Marquis d’Albufex seemed in a great rage. He
was striking the leg of his boot with his whip and mum-
bling angry words which Lupin was able to distinguish
when the distance became less great:
“Ah, the hound! . . . I’ll make him speak.
. . . I’ll come back to-night . . . to-night, at
ten o’clock, do you hear, Sébastiani? . . . And
we shall do what’s necessary. . . . Oh, the brute!”
Sébastiani unfastened the horses. D’Albufex turned
to the woman:
“See that your sons keep a good watch. . . . If
any one attempts to deliver him, so much the worse for
him. The trapdoor is there. Can I rely upon them?”
“As thoroughly as on myself, monsieur le marquis,”
declared the huntsman. “They know what monsieur
le marquis has done for me and what he means to do for
them. They will shrink at nothing.”
“Let us mount and get back to the hounds,” said
d’Albufex.
So things were going as Lupin had supposed. During
these runs, d’Albufex, taking a line of his own, would
push off to Mortepierre, without anybody’s suspecting
his trick. Sébastiani, who was devoted to him body and
soul, for reasons connected with the past into which it
was not worth while to inquire, accompanied him; and
together they went to see the captive, who was closely
watched by the huntsman’s wife and his three sons.
“That’s where we stand,” said Lupin to Clarisse
Mergy, when he joined her at a neighbouring inn.
“This evening the marquis will put Daubrecq to the
question —a little brutally, but indispensably—as I
intended to do myself.”


154 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
“And Daubrecq will give up his secret," said Clarisse,
already quite upset.
“ I’m afraid so.”
“Then . . .”
“I am hesitating between two plans,” said Lupin, who
seemed very calm. “Either to prevent the inter-
view .”
‘i 77
“By forestalling d’Albufex. At nine o’clock, the
Growler, the Masher and I climb the ramparts,
burst into the fortress, attack the keep, disarm the
garrison . . . and the thing’s done: Daubrecq
is ours.”
“Unless Sébastiani’s sons ﬂing him through the trap-
door to which the marquis alluded. .”
“For that reason,” said Lupin, “I intend to risk that
violent measure only as a last resort and in case my other
plan should not be practicable.”
“What is the other plan?”
“To witness the interview. If Daubrecq does not
speak, it will give us the time to prepare to carry
him off under more favourable conditions. If he speaks,
if they compel him to reveal the place where the list
of the Twenty-seven is hidden, I shall know the truth
at the same time as d’Albufex, and I swear to God that
I shall turn it to account before he does.”
“Yes, yes,” said Clarisse. “But how do you propose
to be present?”
“I don’t know yet,” Lupin confessed. “It depends
on certain particulars which the Masher is to bring me
and on some which I shall ﬁnd out for myself.”
He left the inn and did not return until an hour later)
as night was falling. The Masher joined him.
“Have you the little book?” asked Lupin.


THE PROFILE OF NAPOLEON 157
“Why, what are you thinking of, governor?” cried
the two accomplices. “What, you mean to . . ?
But it’s madness!”
“Madness? Why? What another has done I can
do.”
“But it’s a hundred chances to one that you break
your neck.”
“Well, you see, Masher, there’s one chance that I
don’t.”
“But, governor
“That’s enough, my friends. Meet me in an hour
on the river-bank.”
77
o
The preparations took long in the making. It was
difficult to ﬁnd the material for a ﬁfty-foot ladder that
would reach the ﬁrst ledge of the cliff; and it required
an endless effort and care to join the different sec-
tions.
At last, a little after nine o’clock, it was set up in the
middle of the river and held in position by a boat, the
bows of which were wedged between two of the rungs,
while the stern was rammed into the bank.
The road through the river-valley was little used, and
nobody came to interrupt the work. The night was
dark, the sky heavy with moveless clouds.
Lupin gave the Masher and the Growler their ﬁnal
instructions and said, with a laugh:
“I can’t tell you how amused I am at the thought of
seeing Daubrecq’s face when they proceed to take his
scalp or slice his skin into ribbons. Upon my word,
it’s worth the journey.”
Clarisse also had taken a seat in the boat. He said to
her:


THE PROFILE OF NAPOLEON 159
the cliﬂ and continued the climb, with bruised nails and
bleeding ﬁngers. At every moment he expected the
inevitable fall. And what discouraged him most was
to hear the murmur of voices rising from the boat,
murmur so distinct that it seemed as though he were not
increasing the distance between his companions and
himself.
And he remembered the Sire de Tancarville, alone,
he too, amid the darkness, who must have shivered at
the noise of the stones which he loosened and sent bound-
ing down the cliﬁ. How the least sound reverberated
through the silence! If one of Daubrecq’s guards was
peering into the gloom from the Lovers’ Tower, it meant
ashot . . . anddeath. . . .
And he climbed . . . he climbed. . . . He
had climbed so long that he ended by imagining
that the goal was passed. Beyond a doubt, he had
slanted unawares to the right or left and he would ﬁnish
at the patrol-path. What a stupid upshot! And what
other upshot could there be to an attempt which the
swift force of events had not allowed him to study and
prepare?
Madly, he redoubled his efforts, raised himself by a
number of yards, slipped, recovered the lost ground,
clutched a bunch of roots that came loose in his hand,
slipped once more and was abandoning the game in
despair when, suddenly, stiffening himself and contract-
ing his whole frame, his muscles and his will, he stopped
still: a sound of voices seemed to issue from the very
rock which he was grasping.
He listened. It came from the right. Turning his
head, he thought that he saw a ray of light penetrating
the darkness of space. By what effort of energy, by
what imperceptible movements he succeeded in dragging


160 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
himself to the spot he was never able exactly to realize.
But suddenly he found himself on the ledge of a fairly
wide opening, at least three yards deep, which dug into
the wall of the cliff like a passage, while its other end,
much narrower, was closed by three bars.
Lupin crawled along. His head reached the bars.
Andhesaw . . ,


CHAPTER VIII
TEE LovERs’ TOWER
torture-chamber showed beneath him. It was
a large, irregular room, divided into unequal portions
by the four wide, massive pillars that supported its arched
roof. A smell of damp and mildew came from its walls
and from its ﬂags moistened by the water that trickled
from without. Its appearance at any time must have
been gruesome. But, at that moment, with the tall
ﬁgures of Sébastiani and his sons, with the slanting
gleams of light that fell between the pillars, with the
vision of the captive chained down upon the truckle-
bed, it assumed a sinister and barbarous aspect.
Daubrecq was in the front part of the room, four or
ﬁve yards down from the window at which Lupin lurked.
In addition to the ancient chains that had been used to
fasten him to his bed and to fasten the bed to an iron
hook in the wall, his wrists and ankles were girt with
leather thongs; and an ingenious arrangement caused
his least movement to set in motion a bell hung to the
nearest pillar.
A lamp placed on a stool lit him full in the face.
The Marquis d’Albufex was standing beside him.
Lupin could see his pale features, his grizzled moustache,
his long, lean form as he looked at his prisoner with an
expression of content and of gratiﬁed hatred.
A few minutes passed in profound silence. Then the
marquis gave an order:
161


THE LOVERS’ TOWER 163
Daubrecq did not reply; and he went on:
“This is the fourth time that I am questioning you,
Daubrecq. It is the fourth time that I have troubled
to ask you for the document which you possess, in order
that I may escape your blackmailing proceedings. It is
the fourth time and the last. Will you speak?”
The same silence as before. D’Albufex made a sign
to Sébastiani. The huntsman stepped forward, followed
by two of his sons. One of them held a stick in his hand.
“Go ahead,” said d’Albufex, after waiting a few
seconds.
Sébastiani slackened the thongs that bound Dau-
brecq’s wrists and inserted and ﬁxed the stick between
the thongs.
“Shall I turn, monsieur le marquis?”
A further silence. The marquis waited. Seeing that
Daubrecq did not ﬂinch, he whispered:
“Can’t you speak? Why expose yourself to physical
suffering?”
No reply.
“Turn away, Sébastiani.”
Sébastiani made the stick turn a complete circle. The
thongs stretched and tightened. Daubrecq gave a groan.
“You won’t speak? Still, you know that I won’t
give way, that I can’t give way, that I hold you and that,
if necessary, I shall torture you till you die of it. You
won’t speak? You won’t? . . . Sébastiani, once
more.”
The huntsman obeyed. Daubrecq gave a violent
start of pain and fell back on his bed with a rattle in his
throat.
“You fool!” cried the marquis, shaking with rage.
“Why don’t you speak? What, haven’t you had
enough of that list? Surely it’s somebody else’s turn!


164 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
Come, speak. . . . Whereis it? One word. . . .
One word only . . . and we will leave you in peace.
. And, to-morrow, when I have the list, you
shall be free. Free, do you understand? But, in
Heaven’s name, speak! . . . Oh, the brute! . . .
Sébastiani, one more turn.”
Sébastiani made a fresh eﬁort. The bones cracked.
“Help! Help!” cried Daubrecq, in a hoarse voice,
vainly struggling to release himself. And, in a splutter-
ing whisper, “Mercy . . . mercy. . . .”
It was a dreadful sight. The faces of the three sons
were horror-struck. Lupin shuddered, sick at heart, and
realized that he himself could never have accomplished
that abominable thing. He listened for the words that
were bound to come. He must learn the truth. Dau-
brecq’s secret was about to be expressed in syllables, in
words wrung from him by pain. And Lupin began to
think of his retreat, of the car which was waiting for him,
of the wild rush to Paris, of the victory at hand. . . .
“Speak,” whispered d’Albufex. “Speak and it will
be over.”
“Yes . . . yes . . .” gasped Daubrecq.
“Well . . . P”
“Later . . . to-morrow ”
“Oh, you’re mad! . . . What are you talking
about: to-morrow? . . . Sébastiani, another turn!”
“No, no!” yelled Daubrecq. “Stop!”
“Speak!”
“Well, then . . . the paper . . . I have
hidden the paper . . .”
But his pain was too great. He raised his head with
a last effort, uttered incoherent words, succeeded in
twice saying, “Marie . . . Marie . . .” and
fell back, exhausted and lifeless.


166 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
He turned to Sébastiani:
“Tighten the rope . . . let him feel it a little
. that will wake him up. . . . He’s sham-
ming death. .”
Sébastiani took hold of the stick again and turned
until the cord touched the swollen ﬂesh. Daubrecq
gave a start.
“That’ll do, Sébastiani,” said the marquis. “Our
friend seems favourably disposed and understands the
need for coming to terms. That’s so, Daubrecq, is it
not? You prefer to have done with it? And you’re
quite right!”
The two men were leaning over the sufferer, Sébastiani
with his hand on the stick, d’Albufex holding the lamp
so as to throw the light on Daubrecq’s face:
“His lips are moving . . . he’s going to speak.
. . . Loosen the rope a little, Sébastiani: I don’t
want our friend to be hurt. . . . No, tighten it:
I believe our friend is hesitating. . . . One turn
more . . . stop! . . . That’s done it! .
Oh, my dear Daubrecq, if you can’t speak plainer than
that, it’s no use! What? What did you say?”
Arséne Lupin muttered an oath. Daubrecq was
speaking and he, Lupin, could not hear a word of what
he said! In vain, he pricked up his ears, suppressed the
beating of his heart and the throbbing of his temples:
not a sound reached him.
“Confound it!” he thought. “I never expected this.
Whathm I to do?”
He was within an ace of covering Daubrecq with his
revolver and putting a bullet into him which would cut
short any explanation. But he reﬂected that he himself
_ would then be none the wiser and that it was better to
trust to events in the hope of making the most of them.


THE LOVERS’ TOWER 167
Meanwhile the confession continued beneath him,
indistinctly, interrupted by silences and mingled with
moans. D’Albufex clung to his prey:
“Goon! . . . Finish, can’t you? . . .”
And he punctuated the sentences with exclamations
of approval:
“Good! . . . Capital! . . . Oh, how funny!
. . . And no one suspected? . . . Not even
Prasville? . . . What an ass! . . . Loosen a
bit, Sébastiani: don’t you see that our friend is out of
breath? . . . Keep calm, Daubrecq . . . don’t
tire yourself. . . . And so, my dear fellow, you
were saying . . .”
That was the last. There was a long whispering to
which d’Albufex listened without further interruption
and of which Arséne Lupin could not catch the least
syllable. Then the marquis drew himself up and ex-
claimed, joyfully:
“That’s it! . . . Thank you, Daubrecq. And,
believe me, I shall never forget what you have just done.
If ever you’re in need, you have only to knock at my
door and there will always be a crust of bread for you
in the kitchen and a glass of water from the ﬁlter. Sé-
bastiani, look after monsieur le député as if he were
one of your sons. And, ﬁrst of all, release him from
his bonds. It’s a heartless thing to truss one’s fellow-
man like that, like a chicken on the spit!”
“Shall we give him something to drink?” suggested
the huntsman.
“Yes, that’s it, give him a drink.”
Sébastiani and his sons undid the leather straps,
rubbed the bruised wrists, dressed them with an oint-
ment and bandaged them. Then Daubrecq swallowed
a‘ few drops of brandy.


THE LOVERS’ TOWER 169
He went out, accompanied by Sébastiani, and the
heavy door closed after them.
Lupin at once eﬁected his retreat, in accordance with
a plan which he had worked out during this scene.
The plan was simple enough: to scramble, by means
of his rope, to the bottom of the cliff, take his friends
with him, jump into the motor-car and attack d’Albufex
and Sébastiani on the deserted road that leads to Aumale
Station. There could be no doubt about the issue of the
contest. With d’Albufex and Sébastiani prisoners, it
would be an easy matter to make one of them speak.
D’Albufex had shown him how to set about it; and
Clarisse Mergy would be inﬂexible where it was a
question of saving her son.
He took the rope with which he had provided himself
and groped about to ﬁnd a jagged piece of rock round
which to pass it, so as to leave two equal lengths hanging,
by which he could let himself down. But, when he
found what he wanted, instead of acting swiftly—for
the business was urgent — he stood motionless, thinking.
His scheme failed to satisfy him at the last moment.
“It’s absurd, what I’m proposing,” he said to himself.
“Absurd and illogical. How can I tell that d’Albufex _
and Sébastiani will not escape me? How can I even tell
that, once they are in my power, they will speak? No,
I shall stay. There are better things to try . . .
much better things. It’s not those two I must be at,
but Daubrecq. He’s done for; he has not a kick left
in him. If he has told the marquis his secret, there is
no reason why he shouldn’t tell it to Clarisse and me,
when we employ the same methods. That’s settled!
We’ll kidnap the Daubrecq bird.” And he continued,
“Besides, what do I risk? If the scheme miscarries,
Clarisse and I will rush off to Paris and, together with


THE LOVERS’ TOWER 171
did not allow of the contemplation of such a possibility.
He must at all costs spike the Marquis d’Albufex’ guns
by warning Prasville.
However, Lupin remained, held back by the stubborn
hope of some incident that would give him the oppor-
tunity of acting.
The clock struck half-past twelve.
It struck one.
The waiting became terrible, all the more so as an icy
mist rose from the valley and Lupin felt the cold pene-
trate to his very marrow.
He heard the trot of a horse in the distance:
“ Sébastiani returning from the station,” he thought.
But the son who was watching in the torture-chamber,
having ﬁnished his packet of tobacco, opened the door
and asked his brothers if they had a pipeful for him.
They made some reply; and he went out to go to the
lodge.
And Lupin was astounded. No sooner was the door
closed than Daubrecq, who had been so sound asleep, sat
up on his couch, listened, put one foot to the ground,
followed by the other, and, standing up, tottering a little,
but ﬁrmer on his legs than one would have expected,
tried his strength.
“Well,” said Lupin, “the beggar doesn’t take long
recovering. He can very well help in his own escape.
There’s just one point that ruﬂles me: will he allow him-
self to be convinced? Will he consent to go with me?
Will he not think that this miraculous assistance which
comes to him straight from. heaven is a trap laid by the
marquis?”
But suddenly Lupin remembered the letter which he
had made Daubrecq’s old cousins write, the letter of
recommendation, so to speak, which the elder of the two


172 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
sisters Rousselot had signed with her Christian name,
Euphrasie.
It was in his pocket. He took it and listened. Not
a sound, except the faint noise of Daubrecq’s footsteps
on the ﬂagstones. Lupin considered that the moment
had come. He thrust his arm through the bars and
threw the letter in.
Daubrecq seemed thunderstruck.
The letter had ﬂuttered through the room and lay on
the ﬂoor, at three steps from him. Where did it come
from? He raised his head toward the window and
tried to pierce the darkness that hid all the upper part
of the room from his eyes. Then he looked at the enve-
lope, without yet daring to touch it, as though he dreaded
a snare. Then, suddenly, after a glance at the door, he
stooped briskly, seized the envelope and opened it.
“Ah!” he said, with a sigh of delight, when he saw the
signature.
He read the letter half-aloud:
“Rely implicitly on the bearer of this note. He has
succeeded in discovering the marquis’ secret, with the
money which we gave him, and has contrived a plan of
escape. Everything is prepared for your ﬂight.
“EUPERAsrE RoUssELor.”
He read the letter again, repeated, “Euphrasie
Euphrasie . . .” and raised his head once
more.
Lupin whispered:
“It will take me two or three hours to ﬁle through
one of the bars. Are Sébastiani and his sons coming
back?”
“Yes, they are sure to,” replied Daubrecq, in the


THE LOVERS’ TOWER 173
same low voice, “but I expect they will leave me to
myself.”
“But they sleep next door?”
l‘Yes’),
“Won’t they hear?”
“No, the door is too thick.”
“Very well. In that case, it will soon be done. I
have a rope-ladder. Will you be able to climb up alone,
without my assistance?”
“I think so. . . . I’ll try It’s my wrists
that they’ve broken. . . . Oh, the brutes! I can
hardly move my hands . . . and I have very little
strength left. But I’ll try all the same . . . needs
must. . . .” 1
He stopped, listened and, with his ﬁnger to his mouth,
whispered:
l‘H‘JSbl)!
When Sébastiani and his sons entered the room,
Daubrecq, who had hidden the letter and Iain down on
his bed, pretended to wake with a start.
The huntsman brought him a bottle of wine, a glass
and some food:
“How goes it, monsieur le député?” he cried. “Well,
perhaps we did squeeze a little hard. . . . It’s
~very painful, that thumbscrewing. Seems they often
did it at the time of the Great Revolution and Bona-
parte . . . in the days of the chauﬂeurs.* A
pretty invention! Nice and clean . . . no blood-
shed. . . . And it didn’t last long either! In
twenty minutes, you came out with the missing word!”
Sébastiani burst out laughing. “By the way, monsieur

‘The name given to the brigands in the Vendée, who tortured their
victims with ﬁre to make them confess where their money was hidden.
— Translator’: Note.


174 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
le député, my congratulations! A capital hiding-place.
Who would ever suspect it? . . . You see, what
put us off, monsieur 1e marquis and me, was that name
of Marie which you let out at ﬁrst. You weren’t telling
a lie; but there you are, you know: the word was only
half-ﬁnished. We had to know the rest. Say what
you like, it’s amusing! Just think, on your study-table!
Upon my word, what a joke!”
The huntsman rose and walked up and down the room,
rubbing his hands:
“Monsieur le marquis is jolly well pleased, so pleased,
in fact, that he himself is coming to-morrow evening
to let you out. Yes, he has thought it over; there will
be a few formalities: you may have to sign a cheque or
two, stump up, what, and make good monsieur le mar-
quis’ expense and trouble. But what’s that to you? A
triﬂe! Not to mention that, from now on, there will
be no more chains, no more straps round your wrists;
in short, you will be treated like a king! And I’ve even
been told—look here!—to allow you a good bottle
of old wine and a ﬂask of brandy.”
Sébastiani let ﬂy a few more jests, then took the lamp,
made a last examination of the room and said to his
sons:
“Let’s leave him to sleep. You also, take a rest, all
three of you. But sleep with one eye open. .
One never can tell. .”
They withdrew.
Lupin waited a little longer and asked, in a low voice:
“Can I begin?”
“Yes, but be careful. It’s not impossible that they
may go on a round in an hour or two.”
Lupin set to work. He had a very powerful ﬁle; and
the iron of the bars, rusted and gnawed away by time,


176 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
round the bars and was preparing to let him down like
a bale of goods, when Daubrecq woke up, in better con-
dition:
“That’s over,” he said. “I feel ﬁt now. Will it
take long?”
“ Pretty long. We are a hundred and ﬁfty yards up."
“How was it that d’Albufex did not foresee that it
was possible to escape this way?”
“The cliff is perpendicular.”
“And you were able to . . . P”
“Well, your cousins insisted. . . . And then one
has to live, you know, and they were free with their
money.”
“The dear, good souls!” said Daubrecq. “Where
are they? ”
“Down below, in a boat.”
“Is there a river, then?”
“Yes, but we won’t talk, if you don’t mind. It’s
dangerous.”
“One word more. Had you been there long when you
threw me the letter?”
“No, no. A quarter of an hour or so. I’ll tell you
all about it. . . . Meanwhile, we must hurry.”
Lupin went ﬁrst, after recommending Daubrecq to
hold tight to the rope and to come down back-
ward. He would give him a hand at the difficult
places.
It took them over forty minutes to reach the platform
of the ledge formed by the cliff; and Lupin had several
times to help his companion, whose wrists, still bruised
from the torture, had lost all their strength and supple-
ness.
Over and over again, he groaned:
“Oh, the swine, they’ve done for me! . . . The


THE LOVERS’ TOWER in
swine! . . . Ah, d’Albufex, I’ll make you pay dear
for this! . . .”
“Ssh!” said Lupin.
“What’s the matter?”
“A noise . . . up above. . . .
Standing motionless on the platform, they listened.
Lupin thought of the Sire de Tancarville and the sentry
who had killed him with a shot from his harquebus.
He shivered, feeling all the anguish of the silence and
the darkness.
“No,” he said, “I was mistaken. . . . Besides,
it’s absurd. . . . They can’t hit us here.”
“Who would hit us?”
“No one . . . no one . . . it was a silly
notion. . . .”
He groped about till he found the uprights of the
ladder; then he said:
“There, here’s the ladder. It is ﬁxed in the bed
of the river. A friend of mine is looking after it, as
well as your cousins.”
He whistled:
“Here I am,” he said, in a low voice. “Hold the lad-
der fast.” And, to Daubrecq, “I’ll go ﬁrst.”
Daubrecq objected:
“Perhaps it would be better for me to go down ﬁrst.”
‘‘Why?,’
“I am very tired. You can tie your rope round my
waist and hold me. . . . Otherwise, there is a
danger that I might .”
“Yes, you are right,” said Lupin. “Come nearer.”
Daubrecq came nearer and knelt down on the rock.
Lupin fastened the rope to him and then, stooping over,
grasped one of the uprights in both hands to keep the
ladder from shaking:
”


178 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
“06 you go,” he said.
At the same moment, he felt a violent pain in the
shoulder:
“Blast it!” he said, sinking to the ground.
Daubrecq had stabbed him with a knife below the
nape of the neck, a little to the right.
“You blackguard! You blackguard!”
He half-saw Daubrecq, in the dark, ridding himself
of his rope, and heard him whisper:
“You’re a bit of a fool, you know! . . . You
bring me a letter from my Rousselot cousins, in which
I recognize the writing of the elder, Adelaide, but which
that sly puss of an Adelaide, suspecting something and
meaning to put me on my guard, if necessary, took
care to sign with the name of the younger sister, Eu-
phrasie Rousselot. You see, I tumbled to it! . .
So, with a little reﬂection . . . you are Master
Arséne Lupin, are you not? Clarisse’s protector,
Gilbert’s saviour. . . . Poor Lupin, I fear you’re
in a bad way. . . . I don’t use the knife often; but,
when I do, I use it with a vengeance.”
He bent over the wounded man and felt in his pockets:
“Give me your revolver, can’t you? You see, your
friends will know at once that it is not their gover-
nor; and they will try to secure me. . . . And, as
I have not much strength left, a bullet or two . .
Good-bye, Lupin. We shall meet in the next world,
eh? Book me a nice ﬂat, with all the latest conveniences.
. . . Good-bye, Lupin. And my best thanks. For
really I don’t know what I should have done without
you. By Jove, d’Albufex was hitting me hard! It’ll
be a joke to meet the beggar again!”
Daubrecq had completed his preparations. He whis-
tled once more. A reply came from the boat.


THE LOVERS’ TOWER 179
“Here I am,” he said.
With a last effort, Lupin put out his arm to stop him.
But his hand touched nothing but space. He tried to
call out, to warn his accomplices: his voice choked
in his throat.
He felt a terrible numbness creep over his whole being.
His temples buzzed.
Suddenly, shouts below. Then a shot. Then an-
other, followed by a triumphant chuckle. And a
woman’s wail and moans. And, soon after, two more
shots. . .
Lupin thought of Clarisse, wounded, dead perhaps;
of Daubrecq, ﬂeeing Victoriously; of d’Albufex; of the
crystal stopper, which one or other of the two adversaries
would recover unresisted. Then a sudden vision showed
him the Sire de Tancarville falling with the woman he
loved. Then he murmured, time after time:
“Clarisse . . . Clarisse . . . Gilbert. . . .”
A great silence overcame him; an inﬁnite peace entered
into him; and, without the least revolt, he received
the impression that his exhausted body, with nothing
now to hold it back, was rolling to the very edge of the
rock, toward the abyss. . . .


CHAPTERIX
INTHEDARK
N HOTEL bedroom at Amiens.
Lupin was recovering a little consciousness for the
ﬁrst time. Clarisse and the Masher were seated by his
bedside.
Both were talking; and Lupin listened to them,
without opening his eyes. He learned that they had
feared for his life, but that all danger was now removed.
Next, in the course of the conversation, he caught certain
words that revealed to him what had happened in the
tragic night at Mortepierre: Daubrecq’s descent; the
dismay of the accomplices, when they saw that it was
not the governor; then the short struggle: Clarisse ﬂing-
ing herself on Daubrecq and receiving a wound in the
shoulder; Daubrecq leaping to the bank; the Growler
ﬁring two revolver-shots and darting off in pursuit of
him; the Masher clambering up the ladder and ﬁnding
the governor in a swoon:
“True as I live,” said the Masher, “I can’t
make out even now how he did not roll over. There
was a sort of hollow at that place, but it was a
sloping hollow; and, half dead as he was, he must
have hung on with his ten ﬁngers. Crikey, it was time
I came!”
Lupin listened, listened in despair. He collected his
strength to grasp and understand the words. But
suddenly a terrible sentence was uttered: Clarisse,
180


182 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
How soon would he be ﬁt to resume the campaign?
Was it not madness to linger by his side, when every
day carried away a little hope?
Lupin never ceased repeating to himself, with the
inward belief that, by so doing, he could inﬂuence the
course of his illness:
“I will get well . . . I will get well.
And he lay for days on end without moving, so as not
to disturb the dressing of his wound nor increase the
excitement of his nervesin the smallest degree.
He also strove not to think of Daubrecq. But the
image of his dire adversary haunted him; and he re-
constituted the various phases of the escape, the descent
of the cliff. . . . One day, struck by a terrible
memory, he exclaimed:
“The list! The list of the Twenty-seven! Daubrecq
must have it by now . . . or else d’Albufex. . . .
It was on the table!”
Clarisse reassured him:
“No one can have taken it,” she declared. “The
Growler was in Paris that same day, with a note from
me for Prasville, entreating to redouble his watch in
the Square Lamartine, so that no one should enter, espe-
cially d’Albufex. . . .”
“But Daubrecq?”
“He is wounded. He cannot have gone home.”
“Ah, well,” he said, “that’s all right! . . . But
you too were wounded. .”
“A mere scratch on the shoulder.”
Lupin was easier in his mind after these revelations.
Nevertheless, he was pursued by stubborn notions which
he was unable either to drive from his brain or to put
into words. Above all, he thought incessantly of that
name of “Marie” which Daubrecq’s suﬂerings had
,7
a


IN THE DARK 188
drawn from him. What did the name refer to? Was
it the title of one of the books on the shelves, or a part of
the title? Would the book in question supply the key
to the mystery? Or was it the combination word of a
safe? Was it a series of letters written somewhere:
on a wall, on a paper, on a wooden panel, on the mount
of a drawing, on an invoice?
These questions, to which he was unable to ﬁnd a reply,
obsessed and exhausted him. . . .
One morning Arséne Lupin woke feeling a great deal
better. The wound was closed, the temperature almost
normal. The doctor, a personal friend, who came every
day from Paris, promised that he might get up two days
later. And, on that day, in the absence of his accomplices
and of Mme. Mergy, all three of whom had left, two days
before, in quest of information, he had himself moved
to the open window.
He felt life return to him with the sunlight, with the
balmy air that announced the approach of spring. He
recovered the concatenation of his ideas; and facts once
more took their place in his brain in their logical sequence
and in accordance with their relations one to the other.
In the evening he received a telegram from Clarisse
to say that things were going badly and that she, the
Growler and the Masher were all staying in Paris.
He was much disturbed by this wire and had a less
quiet night. What could the news be that had given
rise to Clarisse’s telegram?
But, the next day, she arrived in his room looking
very pale, her eyes red with weeping, and, utterly worn
out, dropped into a chair:
“The appeal has been rejected,” she stammered.
He mastered his emotion and asked, in a voice of
surprise:


184 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
“Were you relying on that?”
“No, no,” she said, “but, all the same . . . one
hopes . . . in spite of one’s self. . . .”
“Was it rejected yesterday?”
“A week ago. The Masher kept it from me; and I
have not dared to read the papers lately.”
“There is always the commutation of sentence,”
he suggested.
“The commutation? Do you imagine that they will
commute the sentence of Arséne Lupin’s accomplices?”
She ejaculated the words with a violence and a bitter-
ness which he pretended not to notice; and he said:
“Vaucheray perhaps not. . . . But they will
take pity on Gilbert, on his youth. . . ”
“They will do nothing of the sort.”
“How do you know?”
“I have seen his counsel.”
“You have seen his counsel! And you told him
. . . P”
“I told him that I was Gilbert’s mother and I asked
him whether, by proclaiming my son’s identity, we
could not inﬂuence the result . . . or at least
delay it.”
“You would do that?” he whispered. “You would
admit . . . ?”
“Gilbert’s life comes before everything. What do I
care about my name! What do I care about my hus-
band’s name!”
“And your little Jacques?” he objected. “Have
you the right to ruin Jacques, to make him the brother
of a man condemned to death?”
She hung her head. And he resumed:
“What did the counsel say?”
“He said that an act of that sort would not help


IN THE DARK 185
Gilbert in the remotest degree. And, in spite of all
his protests, I could see that, as far as he was concerned,
he had no illusions left and that the pardoning com-
mission are bound to ﬁnd in favour of the execution.”
“The commission, I grant you; but what of the presi-
dent of the Republic?"
“The president always goes by the advice of the
commission.”
“He will not do so this time.”
“And why not?”
“Because we shall bring inﬂuence to bear upon him.”
U 7,
“By the conditional surrender of the list of the
Twenty-seven! ” ,
“Have you it?”
“No, but I shall have it.”
His certainty had not wavered. He made the state—
ment with equal cahnness and faith in the inﬁnite
power of his will.
She had lost some part of her conﬁdence in him and
she shrugged her shoulders lightly:
“If d’Albufex has not purloined the list, one man
alone can exercise any inﬂuence; one man alone: Dau-
brecq.”
She spoke these words in a low and absent voice that
made him shudder. Was she still thinking, as he had
often seemed to feel, of going back to Daubrecq and
paying him for Gilbert’s life?
“You have sworn an oath to me,” he said. “I’m
reminding you of it. It was agreed that the struggle
with Daubrecq should be directed by me and that there
would never be a possibility of any arrangement between
you and him.”
She retorted:


188 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
“ Suppose Daubrecq returns?”
“If he returns, that will be so much the better: we
shall have him.”
“And, if he only passes?”
“In that case, the Growler and the Masher must
follow him. ” !
“And if they lose sight of him?”
Lupin did not reply. No one felt more than he
how fatal it was to remain inactive in a hotel bed-
room and how useful his presence would have been
on the battleﬁeld! Perhaps even this vague idea had
already prolonged his illness beyond the ordinary
limits.
He murmured:
“Go now, please.”
There was a constraint between them which increased
as the awful day drew nigh. In her injustice, for-
getting or wishing to forget that it was she who had
forced her son into the Enghien enterprise, Mme. Mergy
did not forget that the law was pursuing Gilbert with
such rigour not so much because he was a criminal as
because he was an accomplice of Arséne Lupin’s. And
then, notwithstanding all his efforts, notwithstanding
his prodigious expenditure of energy, what result had
Lupin achieved, when all was said? How far had his
intervention beneﬁted Gilbert?
After a pause, she rose and left him alone.
The next day he was feeling rather low. But, on the
day after, the Wednesday, when his doctor wanted him
to keep quiet until the end of the week, he said:
“If not, what have I to fear?”
“A return of the fever.”
“Nothing worse?”
“No. The wound is pretty well heal .”


IN THE DARK 189
“Then I don’t care. I’ll go back with you in your
car. We shall be in Paris by mid-day.”
What decided Lupin to start at once was, ﬁrst, a letter
in which Clarisse told him that she had found Daubrecq’s
traces, and, also, a telegram, published in the Amiens
papers, which stated that the Marquis d’Albufex had
been arrested for his complicity in the aﬁair of the
canal.
Daubrecq was taking his revenge.
Now the fact that Daubrecq was takinghis revenge
proved that the marquis had not been able to prevent
that revenge by seizing the document which was on the
writing-desk in the study. It proved that Chief-
inspector Blanchon and the detectives had kept a good
watch. It proved that the crystal stopper was still in
the Square Lamartine.
It was still there; and this showed either that Daubrecq
had not ventured to go home, or else that his state of
health hindered him from doing so, or else again that
he had suﬂicient conﬁdence in the hiding-place not to
trouble to put himself out.
In any case, there was no doubt as to the course to be
pursued: Lupin must act and he must act smartly. He
must forestall Daubrecq and get hold of the crystal
stopper.
When they had crossed the Bois de Boulogne and
were nearing the Square Lamartine, Lupin took leave
of the doctor and stopped the car. The Growler and
the Masher, to whom he had wired, met him.
“Where’s Mme. Mergy?” he asked.
“She has not been back since yesterday; she sent us an
express message to say that she saw Daubrecq leaving
his cousins’ place and getting into a cab. She knows
the number of the cab and will keep us infonned.”


IN THE DARK 191
“M. Nicole, I believe?”
“Yes,” he said. “Is Chief-inspector Blanchon here?”
‘I is.!!
“Can I speak to him?”
The man took him to the study, where Chief-inspector
Blanchon welcomed him with obvious pleasure.
“Well, chief-inspector, one would say there was
something new?”
“M. Nicole, my orders are to place myself entirely
at your disposal; and I may say that I am very glad to
see you to-day.”
(‘ 7,
“Because there is something new.”
“Something serious?”
“Something very serious.”
“Quick, speak.”
“Daubrecq has returned.”
“Eh, what!” exclaimed Lupin, with a start. “Dau-
brecq returned? Is he here?”
“No, he has gone.”
“And did he come in here, in the study? ”
l‘ Yes.),
“ ,7
“This morning.”
“And you did not prevent him?”
“What right had I ?”
“And you left him alone?”
“By his positive orders, yes, we left him alone.”
Lupin felt himself turn pale. Daubrecq had come
back to fetch the crystal stopper!
He was silent for some time and repeated to himself:
“He came back to fetch it. . . . He was afraid
that it would be found and he has taken it. . .
Of course, it was inevitable . . . with d’Albufex


IN THE DARK 198
He had not ﬁnished the sentence, when a question
quite naturally forced itself upon his mind. If the
crystal stopper was no longer there, would this not be
obvious from some material sign? Had the removal of
that object, doubtless contained within another object,
left no trace, no void?
It was easy to ascertain. Lupin had simply to exam-
ine the writing-desk, for he knew, from Sébastiani’s
chaﬁ, that this was the spot of the hiding-place. And
the hiding-place could not be a complicated one, seeing
that Daubrecq had not remained in the study for more
than twenty seconds, just long enough, so to speak, to
walk in and walk out again.
Lupin looked. And the result was immediate. His
memory had so faithfully recorded the picture of the
desk, with all the articles lying on it, that the absence
of one of them struck him instantaneously, as though
that article and that alone were the characteristic sign
which distinguished this particular writing-table from
every other table in the world.
“Oh,” he thought, quivering with delight, “everything
ﬁts in! . . . Everything! . . . Down to that
half-word which the torture drew from Daubrecq in the
tower at Mortepierre! The riddle is solved. There
need be no more hesitation, no more groping in the
dark. The end is in sight.”
And, without answering the inspector’s questions, he
thought of the simplicity of the hiding—place and re-
membered Edgar Allan Poe’s wonderful story in which
the stolen letter, so eagerly sought for, is, in a manner
of speaking, displayed to all eyes. People do not suspect
what does not appear to be hidden.
“Well, well,” said Lupin, as he went out, greatly
excited by his discovery, “1 seem doomed, in this


194 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
confounded adventure, to knock up against disappoint-
ments to the ﬁnish. Everything that I build crumbles
to pieces at once. Every victory ends in disaster.”
. Nevertheless, he did not allow himself to be cast down.
On the one hand, he now knew where Daubrecq the
deputy hid the crystal stopper. On the other hand, he
would soon learn from Clarisse Mergy where Daubrecq
himself was lurking. The rest, to him, would be
child’s play.
The Growler and the Masher were waiting for him
in the drawing-room of the Hotel Franklin, a small
family-hotel near the Trocadéro. Mme. Mergy had not
yet written to him.
“Oh,” he said, “I can trust her! She will hang on to
Daubrecq until she is certain.”
However, toward the end of the afternoon, he began
to grow impatient and anxious. He was ﬁghting one of
those battles — the last, he hoped ~— in which the least
delay might jeopardize everything. If Daubrecq threw
Mme. Mergy off the scent, how was he to be caught
again? They no longer had weeks or days, but only a
few hours, a terribly limited number of hours, in which
to repair any mistakes that they might commit.
He saw the proprietor of the hotel and asked him:
“Are you sure that there is no express letter for my
two friends?”
“Quite sure, sir.”
“Nor for me, M. Nicole?”
“No, sir.”
“That’s curious,” said Lupin. “We were certain
that we should hear from Mme. Audran.”
Audran was the name under which Clarisse was
staying at the hotel.
“But the lady has been,” said the proprietor.


IN THE DARK 195
“What’s that?”
“She came some time ago and, as the gentlemen were
not there, left a letter in her room. Didn’t the porter
tell you?”
Lupin and his friends hurried upstairs. There was
a letter on the table.
“Hullo!” said Lupin. “It’s been opened! How is
that? And why has it been cut about with scissors?”
The letter contained the following lines:
“Daubrecq has spent the week at the Hotel Central.
This morning he had his luggage taken to the Gare de
and telephoned to reserve a berth in the sleeping-
car —-—— for
“I do not know when the train starts. But I shall
be at the station all the afternoon. Come as soon as
you can, all three of you. We will arrange to kidnap
him.”


“What next?” said the Masher. “At which station?
And where’s the sleeping-car for? She has cut out just
the words we wanted!”
“Yes,” said the Growler. “Two snips with the
scissors in each place; and the words which we most
want are gone. Who ever saw such a thing? Has Mme.
Mergy lost her head?”
Lupin did not move. A rush of blood was beating
at his temples with such violence that he glued his ﬁsts
to them and pressed with all his might. His fever
returned, burning and riotous, and his will, incensed
to the verge of physical suffering, concentrated itself'
upon that stealthy enemy, which must be controlled
then and there, if he himself did not wish to be irretriev-
ably beaten.


196 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
He muttered, very calmly:
“Daubrecq has been here.”
“ Daubrecq ! ”
“We can’t suppose that Mme. Mergy has been
amusing herself by cutting out those two words. Dau-
brecq has been here. Mme. Mergy thought that she
was watching him. He was watching her instead.”
‘lHOWP ,,
“Doubtless through that hall-porter who did not tell
us that Mme. Mergy had been to the hotel, but who
must have told Daubrecq. He came. He read the
letter. And, by way of getting at us, he contented him-
self with cutting out the essential words.”
“Wecanﬁnd out . . . we can ask . . .”
“What’s the good? What’s the use of ﬁnding out
how he came, when we know that he did come?”
He examined the letter for some time, turned it over
and over, then stood up and said:
“Come along.”
“Where to?”
“ Gare de Lyon.”
“Are you sure?”
“I am sure of nothing with Daubrecq. But, as we
have to choose, according to the contents of the letter,
between the Gare de l’Est and the Gare de Lyon,* I am
presuming that his business, his pleasure and his health
are more likely to take Daubrecq in the direction of
Marseilles and the Riviera than to the Gare de l’Est.”
It was past seven when Lupin and his companions
left the Hotel Franklin. A motor-car took them across
Paris at full speed, but they soon saw that Clarisse
‘These are the only two main-line stations in Paris with the word de
in their name. The others have du, as the Gare du Nord or the Gare
:lu Luxembourg, d’ as the Gare d’Orléans, or no particle at all, as the
flare Saint-Lazare or the Gare Montpamasse.—-Translator’s Note.


'IN THE DARK‘ 197
Mergy was not outside the station, nor in the waiting-
rooms, nor on any of the platforms.
“Still,” muttered Lupin, whose agitation grew as the
obstacles increased, “still, if Daubrecq booked a berth
in a sleeping-car, it can only have been in an evening
train. And it is barely half-past seven!”
A train was starting, the‘ night express. They had
time to rush along the corridor. Nobody . . .
neither Mme. Mergy nor Daubrecq. . . .
But, as they were all three going, a porter accosted
them near the refreshment-room:
“ Is one of you gentlemen looking for a lady?”
“Yes, yes, I am,” said Lupin. “Quick, what is
it?”
“Oh, it’s you, sir! The lady told me there might be
three of you or two of you. . . . And I didn’t
know . . .”
“But, in heaven’s name, speak, man! What lady?”
“The lady who spent the whole day on the pavement,
with the luggage, waiting.”
“Well, out with it! Has she taken a train?”
“Yes, the train-de-luxe, at six-thirty: she made up
her mind at the last moment, she told me to say. And
I was also to say that the gentleman was in the same
train and that they were going to Monte Carlo.”
“Damn it!” muttered Lupin. “We ought to have
taken the express just now! There’s nothing left but
the evening trains, and they crawl! We’ve lost over
three hours.”
The wait seemed interminable. They booked their
seats. They telephoned to the proprietor of the Hotel
Franklin to send on their letters to Monte Carlo. They
dined. They read the papers. At last, at half-past
nine, the train started.


IN THE DARK 199
tnrow her scruples, her repugnance, her very honour,
to the winds!
“Oh, you scoundrel!” snarled Lupin, in a ﬁt of rage.
“If I get hold of you, I’ll make you dance to a pretty
tune! I wouldn’t be in your shoes for a great deal,
when that happens.”
They reached Monte Carlo at three o’clock in the after-
noon. Lupin was at once disappointed not to see
Clarisse on the platform at the station.
He waited. N o messenger came up to him.
He asked the porters and ticket-collectors if they had
noticed, among the crowd, two travellers answering to
the description of Daubrecq and Clarisse. They had
not.
He had, therefore, to set to work and hunt through all
the hotels and lodging-houses in the principality. Oh,
the time wasted!
By the following evening, Lupin knew, beyond a
doubt, that Daubrecq and Clarisse were not at Monte
Carlo, nor at Monaco, not at the Cap d’Ail, nor at La
Turbie, nor at Cap Martin.
“Where can they be then?” he wondered, trembling
with rage.
At last, on the Saturday, he received, at the paste
restante, a telegram which had been readdressed from
the Hotel Franklin and which said:
“He got out at Cannes and is going on to San Remo,
Hotel Palace des Ambassadeurs.
“CtAxrssa.”
The telegram was dated the day before.
“Hang it!” exclaimed Lupin. “They passed through
Monte Carlo. One of us ought to have remained at the


200 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER


station. I did think of it; but, in the midst of all that
bustle . . .” \
Lupin and his friends took the ﬁrst train for Italy.
They crossed the frontier at twelve o’clock. The
train entered the station at San Remo at twelve-forty.
They at once saw an hotel-porter, with “Ambassa-
deurs-Palace” on his braided cap, who seemed to he look-
ing for some one among the arrivals.
Lupin went up to him:
“Are you looking for M. Nicole?”
“Yes, M. Nicole and two gentlemen.”
“From a lady?”
“Yes, Mme. Mergy.”
“Is she staying at your hotel?”
“No. She did not get out. She beckoned to me,
described you three gentlemen and told me to say that
she was going on to Genoa, to the Hotel Continental.”
“Was she by herself?”
6‘ Yes.!!
Lupin tipped the man, dismissed him and turned to
his friends:
“This is Saturday. If the execution takes place on
Monday, there’s nothing to be done. But Monday is
not a likely day. . . . What I have to do is to lay
hands on Daubrecq to-night and to be in Paris on
Monday, with the document. It’s our last chance.
Let’s take it.”
The Growler went to the booking-office and returned
with three tickets for Genoa.
The engine whistled.
Lupin had a last hesitation:
“No, really, it’s too childish! What are we doing?
We ought to be in Paris, not here! . . . Just
think! . . .”


CHAPTER X
EXTRA-DRY?
N ONE of the hills that girdle Nice with the ﬁnest
scenery in the world, between the Vallon de Saint-
Silvestre and the Vallon de la Mantéga, stands a huge
hotel which overlooks the town and the wonderful Baie
des Anges. A crowd ﬂocks to it from all parts, forming
a medley of every class and nation.
On the evening of the same Saturday when Lupin, the
Growler and the Masher were plunging into Italy,
Clarisse Mergy entered this hotel, asked for a bedroom
facing south and selected No. 130, on the second ﬂoor, a
room which had been vacant since that morning.
The room was separated from No. 129 by two parti-
tion-doors. As soon as she was alone, Clarisse pulled back
the curtain that concealed the ﬁrst door, noiselessly
drew the bolt and put her ear to the second door:
“He is here,” she thought. “He is dressing to go to
the club . . . as he did yesterday. ”
When her neighbour had gone, she went into the pas-
sage and, availing herself of a moment when there was
no one in sight, walked up to the door of No. 129. The
door was locked.
She waited all the evening for her neighbour’s return
and did not go to bed until two o’clock. On Sunday
morning, she resumed her watch.
The neighbour went out at eleven. This time he left
the key in the door.
m


EXTRA—DRY? Q08
Hurriedly turning the key, Clarisse entered boldly,
went to the partition-door, raised the curtain, drew the
bolt and found herself in her own room.
In a few minutes, she heard two chambermaids doing
the room in No. 129.
She waited until they were gone. Then, feeling sure
that she would not be disturbed, she once more slipped
into the other room.
Her excitement made her lean against a chair. After
days and nights of stubborn pursuit, after alternate hopes
and disappointments, she had at last succeeded in enter-
ing a room occupied by Daubrecq. She could look about
at her ease; and, if she did not discover the crystal stop-
per, she could at least hide in the space between the
partition-doors, behind the hanging, see Daubrecq, spy
upon his movements and surprise his secret.
She looked around her. A travelling-bag at once
caught her attention. She managed to open it; but her
search was useless.
She ransacked the trays of a trunk and the com-
partments of a portmanteau. She searched the
wardrobe, the writing-table, the chest of drawers, the
bathroom, all the tables, all the furniture. She found
nothing.
She gave a start when she saw a scrap of paper on the
balcony, lying as though ﬂung there by accident:
“Can it be a trick of Daubrecq’s?” she thought, out
loud. “Can that scrap of paper contain . . . ?”
“No, ” said a voice behind her, as she put her hand on
the latch.
She turned and saw Daubrecq.
She felt neither astonishment nor alarm, nor even any
embarrassment at ﬁnding herself face to face with him.
She had suffered too deeply for months to trouble about


204 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
what Daubrecq could think of her or say, at catching her
in the act of spying.
She sat down wearily.
He grinned:
“No, you’re out of it, dear friend. As the children
say, you’re not ‘burning’ at all. Oh, not a bit of it!
And it’s so easy! Shall I help you? It’s next to you,
dear friend, on that little table . . . And yet, by
Jove, there’s not much on that little table! Something to
read, something to write with, something to smoke,
something to eat . . . and that’s all. . . . Will
you have one of these candied fruits? . . . Or per-
haps you would rather wait for the more substantial
meal which I have ordered?”
Clarisse made no reply. She did not even seem to
listen to what he was saying, as though she expected
other words, more serious words, which he could not fail
to utter.
He cleared the table of all the things that lay upon it
and put them on the mantel-piece. Then he rang the
bell.
A head-waiter appeared. Daubrecq asked:
“Is the lunch which I ordered ready?”
“Yes, sir.”
'“It’s for two, isn’t it?”
“Yes, sir.” ‘
“And the champagne?”
“Yes, sir.”
“ Extra-dry? ’ ’
“Yes, sir.”
Another waiter brought a tray and laid two covers on
the table: a cold lunch, some fruit and a bottle of cham-
pagne in an ice-pail.
Then the two waiters withdrew.


EXTRA—DRY? 205
“Sit down, dear lady. As you see, I was thinking of
you and your cover is laid.”
And, without seeming to observe that Clarisse was not
at all prepared to do honour to his invitation, he sat
down, began to eat and continued:
“Yes, upon my word, I hoped that you would end by
consenting to this little private meeting. During the
past week, while you were keeping so assiduous a watch
upon me, I did nothing but say to myself, ‘ I wonder which
she prefers: sweet champagne, dry champagne, or
extra-dry?’ I was really puzzled. Especially after our
departure from Paris. I had lost your tracks, that is to
say, I feared that you had lost mine and abandoned the
pursuit which was so gratifying to me. When I went for
a walk, I missed your beautiful dark eyes, gleaming with
hatred under your hair just touched with gray. But,
this morning, I understood: the room next to mine was
empty at last; and my friend Clarisse was able to take
up her quarters, so to speak, by my bedside. From
that moment I was reassured. I felt certain that, on
coming back — instead of lunching in the restaurant as
usual — I should ﬁnd you arranging my things to your
convenience and suiting your own taste. That was why
I ordered two covers: one for your humble servant, the
other for his fair friend.”
She was listening to him now and in the greatest
terror. So Daubrecq knew that he was spied upon!
For a whole week he had seen through her and all her
schemes!
In a low voice, anxious-eyed, she asked:
“You did it on purpose, did you not? You only went
away to drag me with you?”
“Yes,” he said.
“But why? Why?”


206 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER

“Do you mean to say that you don’t know?” retorted
Daubrecq, laughing with a little cluck of delight.
She half-rose from her chair and, bending toward him,
thought, as she thought each time, of the murder which
she could commit, of the murder which she would_com—
mit. One revolver-shot and the odious brute was done
for.
Slowly her hand glided to the weapon concealed in her
bodice.
Daubrecq said:
“One second, dear friend. . . . You can shoot
presently; but I beg you ﬁrst to read this wire which I
have just receiv .”
She hesitated, not knowing what trap he was laying
for her; but he went on, as he produced a telegram:
“It’s about your son.”
“Gilbert?” she asked, greatly concerned.
“Yes, Gilbert. . . . Here, read it.”
She gave a yell of dismay. She had read:
“Execution on Tuesday morning.”
And she at once ﬂung herself on Daubrecq, crying:
“It’s not true! . . . It’s a lie . . . to mad-
den me. . . . Oh, Iknow you: you are capable of
anything! Confess! It won’t be on Tuesday, will it?
In two days! No, no . . . I tell you, we have four
days yet, ﬁve days, in which to save him. . . . Con-
fess it, confess it!”
She had no strength left, exhausted by this ﬁt of
rebellion; and her voice uttered none but inarticulate
sounds. .
He looked at her for a moment, then poured himself
out a glass of champagne and drank it down' at a gulp.


EXTRA—DRY? Q09
He himself opened the door, and a short, thin man,
with a red moustache, entered the room.
“ Please tell this lady, Jacob, in a few brief words, what
you have done since Wednesday evening, when, after
letting her get into the train-de-luxe which was taking
me from the Gare de Lyon to the south, you yourself
remained on the platform at the station. Of course,
I am not asking how you spent your time, except in so
far as concerns the lady and the business with which I en-
trusted you.”
Jacob dived into the inside-pocket of his jacket and
produced a little note-book of which he turned over the
pages and read them aloud in the voice of a man reading
a report:
“Wednesday evening, 8.15. Gare de Lyon. Wait for
two gents, Growler and Masher. They come with
another whom I don’t know yet, but who can only be
M. Nicole. Give a porter ten francs for the loan of his
cap and blouse. Accost the gents and tell them, from
a lady, ‘that they were gone to Monte Carlo.’ Next,
telephone to the porter at the Hotel Franklin. All
telegrams sent to his boss and dispatched by said boss
will be read by said hotel-porter and, if necessary,
intercepted.
“Thursday. Monte Carlo. The three gents search
the hotels.
“Friday. Flying visits to La Turbie, the Cap d’Ail,
Cap Martin. M. Daubrecq rings me up. Thinks it
wiser to send the gents to Italy. Make the porter of the
Hotel Franklin send them a telegram appointing a
meeting at San Remo.
“Saturday. San Remo. Station platform. Give the
porter of the Ambassadeurs-Palace ten francs for the


210 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
loan of his cap. The three gents arrive. They speak
to me. Explain to them that a lady traveller, Mme.
Mergy, is going on to Genoa, to the Hotel Continental.
The gents hesitate. M. Nicole wants to get out. The
others hold him back. The train starts. Good luck,
gents! An hour later, I take the train for France and
get out at Nice, to await fresh orders.”
Jacob closed his note—book and concluded:
“That’s all. To-day’s doings will be entered this
evening.”
“You can enter them now, M. Jacob. ‘ 12 noon.
M. Daubrecq sends me to the Wagon-Lits Co. I book
two berths in the Paris sleeping-car, by the 2.48 train,
and send them to M. Daubrecq by express messenger.
Then I take the 12.58 train for Vintimille, the frontier-
station, where I spend the day on the platform watching
all the travellers who come to France. Should Messrs.
Nicole, Growler and Masher take it into their heads to
leave Italy and return to Paris by way of Nice, my
instructions are to telegraph to the headquarters of
police that Master Arséne Lupin and two of his accom-
plices are in train number so-and-so.’ ”
While speaking, Daubrecq led Jacob to the door. He
closed it after him, turned the key, pushed the bolt and,
going up to Clarisse, said:
“And now, darling, listen to me. .
This time, she uttered no protest. What could she do
against such an enemy, so powerful, so resourceful, who
provided for everything, down to the minutest details,
and who toyed with his adversaries in such an airy
fashion? Even if she had hoped till then for Lupin’s
interference, how could she do so now, when he was
wandering through Italy in pursuit of a. shadow?
H


EXTRA—DRY? 211
She understood at last why three telegrams which she
had sent to the Hotel Franklin had remained un-
answered. Daubrecq was there, lurking in the dark,
watching, establishing a void around her, separating her
from her comrades in the ﬁght, bringing her gradually,
a beaten prisoner, within the four walls of that room.
She felt her weakness. She was at the monster’s
mercy. She must be silent and resigned.
He repeated, with an evil delight:
“Listen to me, darling. Listen to the irrevocable
words which I am about to speak. Listen to them well.
It is now 12 o’clock. The last train starts at 2.48: you
understand, the last train that can bring me to Paris
to-morrow, Monday, in time to save your son. The
evening-trains would arrive too late. The trains-de-
luxe are full up. Therefore I shall have to start at
2.48. Am I to start?”
“Yes.”
“Our berths are booked. Will you come with
me?”
llYes.,,
“You know my conditions for interfering?”
l‘Yes.’)
“Do you accept them?”
‘lYes.),
“You will marry me?”
“YeS.’)
Oh, those horrible answers! The unhappy woman
gave them in a sort of awful torpor, refusing even to
understand what she was promising. Let him start
ﬁrst, let him snatch Gilbert from the engine of death
whose vision haunted her day and night. . . . And
then . . . and then . . . let what must come
come. . . .


‘.212 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
He burst out laughing:
“Oh, you rogue, it’s easily said! . . . You’re
ready to pledge yourself to anything, eh? The great
thing is to save Gilbert, isn’t it? Afterward, when that
noodle of a Daubrecq comes with his engagement-ring,
not a bit of it! Nothing doing! We’ll laugh in his face!
. No, no, enough of empty words. I don’t want
promises that won’t be kept: I want facts, immediate
facts.”
He came and sat close beside her and stated,
plainly:
“This is what I propose . . . what must b;
. . . what shall be . . . I will ask, or rather
I will demand, not Gilbert’s pardon, to begin with, but
a reprieve, a postponement of the execution, a post-
ponement of three or four weeks. They will invent a
pretext of some sort: that’s not my affair. And, when
Mme. Mergy has become Mme. Daubrecq, then and not
till then I will ask for his pardon, that is to say, the
commutation of his sentence. And make yourself quite
easy: they’ll grant it.”
“I accept . . . Iaccept,” she stammered.
He laughed once more:
“Yes, you accept, because that will happen in a month’s
time . . . and meanwhile you reckon on ﬁnding
some trick, an assistance of some kind or another.
. M. Arséne Lupin. .”
“I swear it on the head of my son. .
“The head of your son! . . . Why, my poor pet,
you would sell yourself to the devil to save it from
falling! . . .”
“Oh, yes,” she whispered, shuddering, “I would
gladly sell my soul!”
He sidled up against her and, in a low voice:
”


EXTRA—DRY? 218
“Clarisse, it’s not your soul I ask for. . . . It’s
something else. . . . For more than twenty years
my life has spun around that longing. You are the only
woman I have ever loved. . . . Loathe me, hate me
—I don’t care—but do not spurn me. . . . Am
I to wait? To wait another month? . . . No,
Clarisse,Ihave waited too many years already. . . .”
He ventured to touch her hand. Clarisse shr
back with such disgust that he was seized with fury
and cried:
“Oh, I swear to heaven, my beauty, the executioner
won’t stand on such ceremony when he catches hold
of your son! . . . And you give yourself airs!
Why, think, it’ll happen in forty hours! Forty hours,
no more, and you hesitate . . . and you have
scruples, when your son’s life is at stake! Come, come,
no whimpering, no silly sentimentality. . . . Look
things in the face. By your own oath, you are my wife,
you are my bride from this moment. . . . Clarisse,
Clarisse, give me your lips. .”
Half-fainting, she had hardly the strength to put out
her arm and push him away; and, with a cynicism in
which all his abominable nature stood revealed, Dau-
brecq, mingling words of cruelty and words of passion,
continued:
“Save your son! . . . Think of the last morning:
the preparations for the scaffold, when they snip away
his shirt and cut his hair. . . . Clarisse, Clarisse,
Iwillsavehim. . . . Besureofit. . . . All
my life shall be yours. . . . Clarisse . . .”
She no longer resisted. It was over. The loathsome
brute’s lips were about to touch hers; and it had to be,
and nothing could prevent it. It was her duty to obey
the decree of fate. She had long known it. She under-


214 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
stood it; and, closing her eyes, so as not to see the foul
face that was slowly raised to hers, she repeated to
herself: '
“My son .' . . my poor son. . . .
A few seconds passed: ten, twenty perhaps. Dau-
brecq did not move. Daubrecq did not speak. And
she was astounded at that great silence and that sudden
quiet. Did the monster, at the last moment, feel a
scruple of remorse?
She raised her eyelids.
The sight which she beheld struck her with stupe-
faction. Instead of the grinning features which she
expected to see, she saw a motionless, unrecognizable
face, contorted by an expression of unspeakable terror:
and the eyes, invisible under the double impediment of
the spectacles, seemed to be staring above her head,
above the chair in which she lay prostrate.
Clarisse turned her face. Two revolver-barrels,
pointed at Daubrecq, showed on the right, a little above
the chair. She saw only that: those two huge, formid-
able revolvers, gripped in two clenched hands. She
saw only that and also Daubrecq’s face, which fear was
discolouring little by little, until it turned livid. And,
almost at the same time, some one slipped behind
Daubrecq, sprang up ﬁercely, ﬂung one of his arms
round Daubrecq’s neck, threw him to the ground with
incredible violence and applied a pad of cotton-wool to
his face. A sudden smell of chloroform ﬁlled the
room.
Clarisse had recognized M. Nicole.
“Come along, Growler!” he cried. “Come along,
Masher! Drop your shooters: I’ve got him! He’s
alimp rag. . . . Tiehimup.”
Daubrecq, in fact, was bending in two and falling on
,7


216 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
“An allegorical tableau!” he announced. “The angel
of virtue destroying the hydra of vice!”
And the humour of the scene was twice as great
because Lupin was appearing under the aspect of M.
Nicole, in the clothes and ﬁgure of that wizened, awk-
ward, nervous private tutor.
A sad smile ﬂickered across Mme. Mergy’s face, her
ﬁrst smile for many a long month. But, at once re-
turning to the reality of things, she besought him:
“Please, please . . . think of Gilbert!”
He ran up to her, caught her in his arms and, obeying
a spontaneous impulse, so frank that she could but
laugh at it, gave her a resounding kiss on either
cheek:
“There, lady, that’s the kiss of a decent man! Instead
of Daubrecq, it’s I kissing you. . . . Another word
and I’ll do it again . . . and I’ll call you darling
next. . . . Be angry with me, if you dare.‘ .
Oh, how happy I am!”
He knelt before her on one knee. And, respectfully:
“I beg your pardon, madame. The ﬁt is over.”
And, getting up again, resuming his whimsical
manner, he continued, while Clarisse wondered what he
was driving at:
“What’s the next article, madame? Your son’s
pardon, perhaps? Certainly! Madame, I have the hon-
our to grant you the pardon of your son, the commu-
tation of his sentence to penal servitude for life and,
to wind up with, his early escape. It’s settled, eh,
Growler? Settled, Masher, what? You’ll both go
with the boy to New Caledonia and arrange for every-
thing. Oh, my dear Daubrecq, we owe you a great
debt! But I’m not forgetting you, believe me! What
would you like? A last pipe? Coming, coming!”


EXTRA—DRY? 217
He took one of the pipes from the mantel-piece,
stooped over the prisoner, shifted his pad and thrust the
amber mouth-piece between his teeth:
“Draw, old chap, draw. Lord, how funny you look,
with your plug over your nose and your cutty in your
mouth. Come, puﬁ away. By Jove, I forgot to ﬁll
your pipe! Where’s your tobacco, your favourite
Maryland? . . . Oh, here we are! . . .”
He took from the chimney an unopened yellow packet
and tore off the government band:
“His lordship’s tobacco! Ladies and gentlemen,
keep your eyes on me! This is a great moment. I am
about to ﬁll his lordship’s pipe: by Jupiter, what an
honour! Observe my movements! You see, I have
nothing in my hands, nothing up my sleeves! .”
He turned back his cuffs and stuck out his elbows.
Then he opened the packet and inserted his thumb
and fore-ﬁnger, slowly, gingerly, like a conjurer per-
forming a sleight-of-hand trick before a puzzled audi-
ence, and, beaming all over his face, extracted from the
tobacco a glittering object which he held out before
the spectators.
Clarisse uttered a cry.
It was the crystal stopper.
She rushed at Lupin and snatched it from him:
“That’s it; that’s the one!” she exclaimed, feverishly.
“There’s no scratch on the stem! And look at this line
running down the middle, where the gilt ﬁnishes
That’s it; it unscrews! . . . Oh, dear, my strength’s
going! . . .”
She trembled so violently that Lupin took back the
stopper and unscrewed it himself.
The inside of the knob was hollow; and in the hollow
space was a piece of paper rolled into a tiny pellet.


218 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
“The foreign-post-paper,” he whispered, himself
greatly excited, with quivering hands.
There was a long silence. All four felt as if their
hearts were ready to burst from their bodies; and they
were afraid of what was coming.
“Please, please . . . ” stammered Clarisse.
Lupin unfolded the paper.
There was a set of names written one below the other,
twenty-seven of them, the twenty-seven names of the
famous list: Langeroux, Dechaumont, Vorenglade,
d’Albufex, Victorien Mergy and the rest.
And, at the foot, the signature of the chairman of the
Two-Seas Canal Company, the signature written in
letters of blood. . .
Lupin looked at his watch.
“A quarter to one,” he said. “We have twenty
minutes to spare. Let’s have some lunch.”
“But,” said Clarisse, who was already beginning to
lose her head, “don’t forget .”
He simply said:
“All I know is that I’m dying of hunger.”
He sat down at the table, cut himself a large slice of
cold pie and said to his accomplices:
“Growler? A bite? You, Masher?”
“I could do with a mouthful, governor.”
“Then hurry up, lads. And a glass of champage to
wash it down with: it’s the chloroform-patient’s treat.
Your health, Daubrecq! Sweet champagne? Dry cham-
pagne? Extra-dry?”


2% THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
limousine. The price is arranged: ten thousand francs.
Buy a chauﬂ’eur’s cap and overcoat and bring the car
to the hotel.”
“The money, governor.”
Lupin opened a pocketbook which had been removed
from Daubrecq’s jacket and produced a huge bundle of
bank-notes. He separated ten of them:
“Here you are. Our friend appears to have been
doing well at the club. Oﬂ with you, Masher!”
The two men went out through Clarisse’s room.
Lupin availed himself of a moment when Clarisse Mergy
was not looking to stow away the pocketbook with the
greatest satisfaction:
“I shall have done a fair stroke of business,” he said
to himself. “When all the expenses are paid, I shall
still be well to the good; and it’s not over yet.”
Then turning to Clarisse Mergy, he asked:
“Have you a bag?”
“Yes, I bought one when I reached Nice, with some
linen and a few necessaries; for I left Paris unprepared.”
“Get all that ready. Then go down to the office.
Say that you are expecting a trunk which a commis-
sionaire is bringing from the station cloakroom and
that you will want to unpack and pack it again in your
room; and tell them that you are leaving.”
When alone, Lupin examined Daubrecq carefully,
felt in all his pockets and appropriated everything that
seemed to present any sort of interest.
The Growler was the ﬁrst to return. The trunk, a
large wicker hamper covered with black moleskin, was
taken into Clarisse’s room. Assisted by Clarisse and
the Growler, Lupin moved Daubrecq and put him in the
trunk, in a sitting posture, but with his head bent so as
to allow of the lid being fastened:


222
THE CRYSTAL STOPPER

He walked away quietly and went after the car, where
he found Clarisse lamenting:
“We shall never be in Paris to-morrow! It’s madness!
The least breakdown .”
“That’s why you and I are going to take the train.
It’s safer. ”
He put her into a cab and gave his parting instructions
to the two men:
“Thirty miles an hour, on the average, do you under-
stand? You’re to drive and rest, turn and turn about.
At that rate, you ought to be in Paris between six and
seven to-morrow evening. But don’t force the pace.
I’m keeping Daubrecq, not because I want him for my
plans, but as a hostage . . . and then by way of
precaution . I like to feel that I can lay my
hands on him during the next few days. So look after
the dear fellow. Give him a few drops of
chloroform every three or four hours: it’s his one weak-
ness. . . . Oﬁ with you, Masher. And
you, Daubrecq, don’t get excited up there. The roof ’ll
bear you all right. If you feel at all sick, don’t
mind. . . . Off you go, Masher! .
He watched the car move into the distance and then
told the cabman to drive to a post-oﬂice, where he dis-
' patched a telegram in these words:
"M. Prasville, Prt'fecture de Pol/ice, Pan's:
“Person found. Will bring you document eleven
o’clock to-morrow morning. Urgent communciation.
“Cumrssa.”
Clarisse and Lupin reached the station by half-past
two.
we


THE CROSS OF LORRAINE 225
Nobody in your room. But the partition-door was
ajar. I slipped through it. Thenceforth, a mere
hanging separated me from you, from Daubrecq . . .
and from the packet of tobacco which I saw on the
chimney-slab.”
“Then you knew the hiding-place?”
“A look round Daubrecq’s study in Paris showed me
that that packet of tobacco had disappeared. Besides
7,
“What? 7)
“I knew, from certain confessions wrung from Dau—
brecq in the Lovers’ Tower, that the word Marie held
the key to the riddle. Since then I had certainly
thought of this word, but with the preconceived notion
that it was spelt MA R IE. Well, it was really
the ﬁrst two syllables of another word, which I guessed,
so to speak, only at the moment when I was struck by
the absence of the packet of tobacco.”
“What word do you mean?”
“Maryland, Maryland tobacco, the only tobacco
that Daubrecq smokes.”
And Lupin began to laugh:
“Wasn’t it silly? And, at the same time, wasn’t it
clever of Daubrecq? We looked everywhere, we ran-
sacked everything. Didn’t I unscrew the brass sockets
of the electric lights to see if they contained a crystal
stopper? But how could I have thought, how could
any one, however great his perspicacity, have thought
of tearing off the paper band of a packet of Maryland,
a band put on, gummed, sealed, stamped and dated by
the State, under the control of the Inland Revenue
Oﬂice? Only think! The State the accomplice of
such an act of infamy! The Inland R-r-r-revenue
Awﬁce lending itself to such a trick! No, a thousand


226 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
times no! The Régie* is not perfect. It makes matches
that won’t light and cigarettes ﬁlled with hay. But
there’s all the diﬂ'erence in the world between recog-
nizing that fact and believing the Inland Revenue to
be in league with Daubrecq with the object of hiding
the list of the Twenty-seven from the legitimate curi-
osity of the government and the enterprising eﬂorts of
Arsene Lupin! Observe that all Daubrecq had to do,
in order to introduce the crystal stopper, was to bear
upon the band a little, loosen it, draw it back, unfold
the yellow paper, remove the tobacco and fasten it up
again. Observe also that all we had to do, in Paris, was
to take the packet in our hands and examine it, in order
to discover the hiding-place. No matter! The packet
itself, the plug of Maryland made up and passed by
the State and by the Inland Revenue Oﬂice, was a sacred,
intangible thing, a thing above suspicion! And nobody
opened it. That was how that demon of a Daubrecq
allowed that untouched packet of tobacco to lie about for
months on his table, among his pipes and among other
unopened packets of tobacco. And no power on earth
could have given any one even the vaguest notion of
looking into that harmless little cube. I would have
you observe, besides .”
Lupin went on pursuing his remarks relative to the
packet of Maryland and the crystal stopper. His
adversary’s ingenuity and shrewdness interested him all
the more inasmuch as Lupin had ended by getting the
better of him. But to Clarisse these topics mattered
much less than did her anxiety as to the acts which must
be performed to save her son; and she sat wrapped in
her own thoughts and hardly listened to him.
‘The department of the French excise which holds the monopoly for
the manufacture and sale of tobacco, cigars, cigarettes and matches —-
Translator’s N ole. ,


228 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER

Lupin found two telegrams awaiting him at his ﬂat
in the Place de Clichy.
One was from the Masher, dispatched from Avignon
on the previous day and stating that all was going well
and that they hoped to keep their appointment punc-
tually that evening. The other was from Prasville,
dated from the Havre and addressed to Clarisse:
“Impossible return to-morrow Monday morning ‘
Come to my oﬂice ﬁve o’clock. Reckon on you ab
solutely.”
“Five o’clock!” said Clarisse. “How late!”
“It’s a ﬁrst-rate hour,” declared Lupin.
“Still, if . . .”
“If the execution is to take place to-morrow morning:
is that what you mean to say? . . . Don’t be afraid
to speak out, for the execution will not take place.”
“The newspapers. . . .”
“You haven’t read the newspapers and you are not
to read them. Nothing that they can say matters in the
least. One thing alone matters: our interview with
Prasville. Besides . . .”
He took a little bottle from a cupboard and, putting
his hand on Clarisse’s shoulder, said:
“Lie down here, on the sofa, and take a few drops of
this mixture.”
“What’s it for?”
“It will make you sleep for a few hours . . . and
forget. That’s always so much gained.”
“No, no,” protested Clarisse, “I don’t want to.
Gilbert is not asleep. He is not forgetting.”
“Drink it,” said Lupin, with gentle insistence.
She yielded all of a sudden, from cowardice, from


THE CROSS OF LORRAINE 229
excessive suffering, and did as she was told and lay on
the sofa and closed her eyes. In a few minutes she was
asleep.
Lupin rang for his servant:
“The newspapers . . . quick! . . . Have
you bought them?”
“Here they are, governor.”
Lupin opened one of them and at once read the
following lines:
“ARsENn LUPrN’s ACCOMPLICES
“We know from a positive source that Arsene Lupin’s
accomplices, Gilbert and Vaucheray, will be executed
to-morrow, Tuesday, morning. M. Deibler has in-
spected the scaﬁold. Everything is ready.”
He raised his head with a deﬁant look
“Arsene Lupin’s accomplices! The execution of
Arsene Lupin’s accomplices! What a ﬁne spectacle!
And what a crowd there will be to witness it! Sorry,
gentlemen, but the curtain will not rise. Theatre closed
by order of the authorities. And the authorities are
myself!”
He struck his chest violently, with an arrogant ges-
ture:
“The authorities are myself!”
At twelve o’clock Lupin received a telegram which the
Masher had sent from Lyons:
“All well. Goods will arrive without damage.”
At three‘ o’clock Clarisse woke. Her ﬁrst words
were:


230 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
“Is it to be to-morrow?”
He did not answer. But she saw him look so calm
and smiling that she felt herself permeated with an
immense sense of peace and received the impression
that everything was ﬁnished, disentangled, settled ac-
cording to her companion’s will.
They left the house at ten minutes past four. Pras-
ville’s secretary, who had received his chief’s instructions
by telephone, showed them into the oﬂice and asked
them to wait. It was a quarter to ﬁve.
Prasville came running in at ﬁve o’clock exactly and,
at once, cried: .
“Have you the list?”
“Yes.,7
“Give it me.”
He put out his hand. Clarisse, who had risen from
her chair, did not stir.
Prasville looked at her for a moment, hesitated and
sat down. He understood. In pursuing Daubrecq,
Clarisse Mergy had not acted only from hatred and the
desire for revenge. Another motive prompted her.
The paper would not be handed over except upon
conditions.
“Sit down, please,” he said, thus showing that he
accepted the discussion.
Clarisse resumed her seat and, when she remained
silent, Prasville said:
“ Speak, my friend, and speak quite frankly. I do not
scruple to say that we wish to have that paper.”
“If it is only a wish,” remarked Clarisse, whom Lupin
had coached in her part down to the least detail, “if
it is only a wish, I fear that we shall not be able to come
to an arrangement.”
Prasville smiled:


THE CROSS OF LORRAINE 231
"The wish, obviously, would lead us to make certain
sacriﬁces.”
“Every sacriﬁce,” said Mme. Mergy, correcting him.
“Every sacriﬁce, provided, of course, that we keep
within the bounds of acceptable requirements.”
“And even if we go beyond those bounds,” said
Clarisse, inﬂexibly.
Prasville began to lose patience:
“Come, what is it all about? Explain yourself.”
“Forgive me, my friend, but I wanted above all to
mark the great importance which you attach to that
paper and, in view of the immediate transaction which
we are about to conclude, to specify — what shall I say?
— the value of my share in it. That value, which has
no limits, must, I repeat, be exchanged for an unlimited
value.”
“Agreed,” said Prasville, querulously.
“I presume, therefore, that it is unnecessary for me
to trace the whole story of the business or to enumerate,
on the one hand, the disasters which the possession of
that paper would have allowed you to avert and, on the
other hand, the incalculable advantages which you will
be able to derive from its possession? ”
Prasville had to make an eﬂ’ort to contain himself and
to answer in a tone that was civil, or nearly so:
“I admit everything. Is that enough?”
“I beg your pardon, but we cannot explain ourselves
too plainly. And there is one point that remains to be
cleared up. Are you in a position to treat, personally?”
“How do you mean?”
“I want to know not, of course, if you are empowered
to settle this business here and now, but if, in dealing
with me, you represent the views of those who know the
business and who are qualiﬁed to settle it.”


THE CRGS OF LORRAINE 285
Prasville was opening a small inner door which led to
the oﬁce of his private secretary.
He gave an order aloud:
“M. Lartigue, telephone to the Elysée and say that I
request the favour of an audience for a communication
of the utmost importance.”
He closed the door, came back to Clarisse and said:
“In any case, my intervention is limited to submitting
your proposal.”
“Once you submit it, it will be accepted.”
A long silence followed. Clarisse’s features expressed
so profound a delight that Prasville was struck by it and
looked at her with attentive curiosity. For what mys-
terious reason did Clarisse wish to save Gilbert and
Vaucheray? What was the incomprehensible link that
bound her to those two men? What tragedy connected
those three lives and, no doubt, Daubrecq’s in ad-
dition?
“Go ahead, old boy,” thought Lupin, “cudgel your
brains: you’ll never spot it! Ah, if we had asked for
Gilbert’s pardon only, as Clarisse wished, you might
have twigged the secret! But Vaucheray, that brute of
a Vaucheray, there really could not be the least bond
between Mme. Mergy and him. . . . Aha, by J'mgo,
it’s my turn now! . . . He’s watching me.
The inward soliloquy is turning upon myself. . . ‘. '
‘I wonder who that M. Nicole can be? Why has that
little provincial usher devoted himself body and soul
to Clarisse Mergy? Who is that old bore, if the truth
were known? I made a mistake in not inquiring. . . .
I must look into this. . . . I must rip off the beg-
gar’s mask. For, after all, it’s not natural that a man
should take so much trouble about a matter in which
he is not directly interested. Why should he also wish


236 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
to save Gilbert and Vaucheray? Why? Why should
he? . . .’” Lupin turned his head away. “Look
out! . . . Look out! . . . There’s a notion
passing through that red-tape-merchant’s skull: a con-
fused notion which he can’t put into words. . . .
Hang it all, he mustn’t suspect M. Lupin under M.
Nicole! The thing’s complicated enough as it is, in all
conscience ! .”
But there was a welcome interruption. Prasville’s
secretary came to say that the audience would take
place in an hour’s time. 1
“Very well. Thank you,” said Prasville. “That
will do.”
And, resuming the interview, with no further cir-
cumlocution, speaking like a man who means to put
a thing through, he declared: ‘
“I think that we shall be able to manage it. But, ﬁrst
of all, so that I may do what I have undertaken to do,
I want more precise information, fuller details. Where
was the paper? ”
“In the crystal stopper, as we thought,” said Mme.
Mergy. .
“And where was the crystal stopper?”
“In an object which Daubrecq came and fetched,
a few days ago, from the writing-desk in his study in
the Square Lamartine, an object which I took from him
yesterday.”
“What sort of object?”
“Simply a packet of tobacco, Maryland tobacco,
which used to lie about on the desk.”
Prasville was petriﬁed. He muttered, guilelessly: ‘
“Oh, if I had only known! I’ve had my hand on
that packet of Maryland a dozen times! How stupid
of me!”


THE CROSS OF‘ LORRAINE 237
"What does it matter?” said Clarisse. “The great .
thing is that the discovery is made.”
Prasville pulled a face which implied that the discovery
would have been much pleasanter if he himself had made
it. Then he asked:
“So you have the list?”
‘lYes.’2
“Here?”
“Yes.,7
“ Show it to me.”
And, when Clarisse hesitated, he added:
“Oh, please, don’t be afraid! The list belongs to you;
and I will give it back to you. But you must understand
that I cannot take the step in question without making
certain.”
Clarisse consulted M. Nicole with a glance which
did not escape Prasville. Then she said:
“Here it is.”
He seized the scrap of paper with a certain excitement,
examined it and almost immediately said:
“Yes, yes . . . the secretary’s writing: I recog-
nize it. . . . And the signature of the chairman of
the company: the signature in red. . . . Besides, I
have other proofs. . . . For instance, the torn piece
which completes the left-hand top corner of this sheet
,7
He opened his safe and, from a special cash-box,
produced a tiny piece of paper which he put against the
top left corner:
“That’s right. The torn edges ﬁt exactly. The
proof is undeniable. All that remains is to verify the
make of this foreign-post-paper.”
Clarisse was radiant with delight. No one would
have believed that the most terrible torture had racked


238 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
her for weeks and weeks and that she was still bleeding
and quivering from its effects.
While Prasville was holding the paper against a win-
dow-pane, she said to Lupin:
“I insist upon having Gilbert informed this evening.
He must be so awfully unhappy!”
“Yes,” said Lupin. “Besides, you can go to his
lawyer and tell him.”
She continued:
“And then I must see Gilbert to-morrow. Prasville
can think what he likes.”
“Of course. But he must ﬁrst gain his cause at the
Elysee.”
“There can’t be any diﬂiculty, can there?”
“N o. You saw that he gave way at once.”
Prasville continued his examination with the aid of a
magnifying-glass and compared the sheet with the scrap
of torn paper. Next, he took from the cash-box some
other sheets of letter-paper and examined one of these
by holding it up to the light:
“That’s done,” he said. “My mind is made up.
Forgive me, dear friend: it was a very diﬂicult piece of
work. . . . I passed through various stages. . . .
When all is said, I had my suspicions . . . and
not without cause. . . .”
“What do you mean?” asked Clarisse.
“One second. . . . I must give an order ﬁrst.”
He called his secretary:
“Please telephone at once to the Elysée, make my
apologies and say that I shall not require the audience,
for reasons which I will explain later.”
He closed the door and returned to his desk.
Clarisse and Lupin stood choking, looking at him in
stupefaction, failing to understand this sudden change.


THE CROSS OF LORRAINE 241
“You shall go to the Elysee! . . . You shall go
at once! . . . You must! . . . You must save
Gilbert! . . .”
“Please, please, my dear friend,calmyourself. . . .”
She gave a strident laugh:
“Calm myself! . . . When, to-morrow morning,
Gilbert . . . Ah, no, no, I am terriﬁed .
it’s appalling. . . . Oh, run, you wretch, run!
Obtain his pardon! . . . Don’t you understand?
Gilbert . . . Gilbert is my son! My son! My
son!”
Prasville gave a cry. The blade of a knife ﬂashed in
Clarisse’s hand and she raised her arm to strike herself.
But the movement was not completed. M. Nicole
caught her arm in its descent and, taking the knife from
Clarisse, reducing her to helplessness, he said, in a
voice that rang through the room like steel:
“What you are doing is madness! . . . When
I gave you my oath that I would save him! .- . .
You must live for him. . . . Gilbert shall not
die. . . . How can he die, when I gave you my
oath? . . . "
“Gilbert . . . my son . . .” moaned Clarisse.
He clasped her ﬁercely, drew her against himself and
put his hand over her mouth:
“Enough! Be quiet! . . . I entreat you to be
quiet. . . . Gilbert shall not die. . . .”
With irresistible authority, he dragged her away
like a subdued child that suddenly becomes obedient;
but, at the moment of opening the door, he turned
to Prasville:
“Wait for me here, monsieur,” he commanded, in an
imperative tone. “If you care about that list of the
Twenty-seven, the real list, wait for me. I shall be


' THE SCAFFOLD 245
“He’ll do as he’s told! . . . He’ll do as he’s told!
. I felt that at once, when I was with him. The
thing appeared to me as a dead certainty. And I found
Vorenglade’s address in Daubrecq’s pocket-book, so
. driver, Boulevard Raspail!”
They went to the address given. Lupin sprang from
the cab, ran up three ﬂights of stairs.
The servant said that M. Vorenglade was away and
would not be back until dinner-time next evening.
“And don’ t you know where he is?”
“M. Vorenglade is in London, sir.”
Lupin did not utter a word on returning to the cab.
Clarisse, on her side, did not even ask him any questions,
so indifferent had she become to everything, so absolutely
did she look upon her son’s death as an accomplished
fact.
They drove to the Place de Clichy. As Lupin entered
the house he passed two men ‘who where just leaving
the porter’s box. He was too much engrossed to notice
them. They were Prasville’s inspectors.
“N o telegram?” he asked his servant.
“N o, governor,” replied Achille.
“N o news of the Masher and the Growler?”
“No, governor, none.”
“That’s all right,” he said to Clarisse, in a casual
tone. “It’s only seven o’clock and we mustn’t reckon
on seeing them before eight or nine. Prasville will have
to wait, that’s all. I will telephone to him to wait.”
He did so and was hanging up the receiver, when he
heard a moan behind him. Clarisse was standing by the
table, reading an evening-paper. She put her hand to
her heart, staggered and fell.
“Achille, Achille!” cried Lupin, calling his man.
“Help me put her on my bed. . . . And then go to


THE SCAFFOLD 249
“Then there’s nothing to be done for Gilbert and
Vaucheray, governor? ” said Achille.
“Nothing.”
“Are they going through it?”
“They are going through it.”
Twenty minutes later Lupin fell into a heavy sleep.
It was ten o’clock in the evening.
The night was full of incident and noise around the
prison. At one o’clock in the morning the Rue de la.
Santé, the Boulevard Arago and all the streets abutting
on the gaol were guarded by police, who allowed no one
to pass without a regular cross-examination.
For that matter, it was raining in torrents; and it
seemed as though the lovers of this sort of show would
not be very numerous. The public-houses were all
closed by special order. At four o’clock three com-
panies of infantry came and took up their positions along
the pavements, while a battalion occupied the Boule-
vard Arago in case of a surprise. Municipal guards
cantered up and down between the lines; a whole staﬁ
of police-magistrates, oﬁcers and functionaries, brought
together for the occasion, moved about among the troops.
The guillotine was set up in silence, in the middle of
the square formed by the boulevard and the street; and
the sinister sound of hammering was heard.
But, at ﬁve o’clock, the crowd gathered, notwith—
standing the rain, and people began to sing. They
shouted for the footlights, called for the curtain to rise,
were exasperated to see that, at the distance at which
the barriers had been ﬁxed, they could hardly distinguish
the uprights of the guillotine.
Several carriages drove up, bringing oﬂicial persons


250 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
dressed in black. There were cheers and boots, where-
upon a troop of mounted municipal guards scattered the
groups and cleared the space to a distance of three
hundred yards from the square. Two fresh companies
of soldiers lined up. .
And suddenly there was a great silence. A vague
white light fell from the dark sky. The rain ceased
abruptly.
Inside the prison, at the end of the passage containing
the condemned cells, the men in black were convers-
ing in low voices. Prasville was talking to the public
prosecutor, who expressed his fears:
“No, no,” declared Prasville, “I assure you, it will
pass without an incident of any kind.”
“Do your reports mention nothing at all suspicious,
monsieur le secrétaire-général? ”
“Nothing. And they can’t mention anything, for the
simple reason that we have Lupin.”
“Do you mean that?”
“Yes, we know his hiding-place. The house where he
lives, on the Place de Clichy, and where he went at
seven o’clock last night, is surrounded. Moreover, I
know the scheme which he had contrived to save his two
accomplices. The scheme miscarried at the last moment.
We have nothing to fear, therefore. The law will take
its course.”
Meanwhile, the hour had struck.
They took Vaucheray ﬁrst; and the governor of the
prison ordered the door of his cell to be opened.
Vaucheray leapt out of bed and cast eyes dilated with
terror upon the men who entered.
“Vaucheray, we have come to tell you .
“Stow that, stow that,” he muttered. “No words.
I know all about it. Get on with the business.”
11


254 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
Blood spurted from Vaucheray’s forehead and covered
his face.
He spluttered:
“That’s done it . . . one in a thousand! Than]!
you, governor, thank you. .”
“Finish him off! Carry him there!” said a voice
amid the general confusion.
“But he’s dead!”
“Getonwithit . . . ﬁnishhimoﬂ!”
Tumult was at its height, in the little group of magis
trates, officials and policemen. Every one was giving
orders: ‘
“Execute him! . . . The law must take its
course! . . . We have no right to delay!
It would be cowardice! . . . Execute him!”
“But the man’s dead!”
“That makes no diﬂerence! . . . The law must
be obeyed! . . . Execute him!”
The chaplain protested, while two warders and Pras-
ville kept their eyes on Gilbert. In the meantime, the
assistants had taken up the corpse again and were
carrying it to the guillotine.
“Hurry up!” cried the executioner, scared and
hoarse-voiced. “Hurry up! . . . And the other
I,
I
one to follow. . . . Waste no time . .
He had not ﬁnished speaking, when a second report
rang out. He spun round on his heels and fell,
groaning: .
“It’s nothing . . . a wound in the shoulder.
Go on. . . . The next one’s turn!”
But his assistants were running away, yelling with
terror. The space around the guillotine was cleared.
And the prefect of police, rallying his men, drove every-
body back to the prison, helter-skelter, like a disordered


256 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
The reader will not have forgotten the sensation
created by this amazing action, the editions of the
papers issued in quick succession, the newsboys tearing
and shouting through the streets, the whole metropolis
on edge with indignation and, we may say, with anxious
curiosity. '
But it was at the headquarters of police that the
excitement developed into a paroxysm. Men ﬂung
themselver about on every side. Messages, telegrams,
telephor ,calls followed one upon the other.
At last, at eleven o’clock in the morning, there was
a meeting in the oﬂice of the prefect of police, and Pras—
ville was there. The chief-detective read a report of his
inquiry, the results of which amounted to this: shortly
before midnight yesterday some one had rung at the
house on the Boulevard Arago. The portress, who slept
in a small room on the ground-ﬂoor, behind one of the
shops, pulled the rope. A man came and tapped at her
door. He said that he had come from the police on an
urgent matter concerning to-morrow’s execution. The
portress opened the door and was at once attacked,
gagged and bound.
Ten minutes later a lady and gentleman who lived on
the ﬁrst ﬂoor and who had just ‘come home were also
reduced to helplessness by the same individual and
locked up, each in one of the two empty shops. The
third-ﬂoor tenant underwent a similar fate, but in his
own ﬂat and his own bedroom, which the man was able
to enter without being heard. The second ﬂoor was un-
occupied, and the man took up his quarters there. He
was now master of the house.
“And there we are!” said the prefect of police, be-
ginning to laugh, with a certain bitterness. “There we
are! It’s as simple as shelling peas. Only, what


THE SCAFFOLD 259
“I’m coming,” he said. And he added, between his
teeth, “ It’s to decide upon Gilbert’s fate.”
Prasville ventured:
“Do you think they will pardon him, monsieur le
préfet?”
“Never! After last night’s affair, it would make a
most deplorable impression. Gilbert must pay his debt
to-morrow morning.”
The messenger had, at the same time, handed Pras-
ville a visiting-card. Prasville now looked at it, gave
a start and muttered:
“Well, I’m hanged! What a nerve!”
“What’s the matter?” asked the prefect of police.
“Nothing, nothing, monsieur 1e préfet,” declared Pras-
ville, who did not wish to share with another the hon-
our of seeing this business through. “Nothing .
an unexpected visit. . . . I hope soon to have the
pleasure of telling you the result.”
And he walked away, mumbling, with an air of
amazement:
“Well, upon my word! What a nerve the beggar
has! What a nerve!”
The visiting-card which he held in his hand bore
these words:

M. Nicole,
Master of Arts, Private Tutor.


CHAPTER XIII
THE LAST BATTLE
EN Prasville returned to his oﬂice he saw M.
Nicole sitting on a bench in the waiting-room,
with his bent back, his ailing air, his gingham umbrella,
his rusty hat and his single glove:
“It’s he all right," said Prasville, who had feared for
a moment that Lupin might have sent another M. Nicole
to see him. “And the fact that he has come in per-
son proves that he does not suspect that I have seen
through him.” And, for the third time, he said, “All
the same, what a nerve!”
He shut the door of his oﬂice and called his
secretary:
“M. Lartigue, I am having a rather dangerous person
shown in here. The chances are that he will have to
leave my office with the bracelets on. As soon as he is
in my room, make all the necessary arrangements: send
for a dozen inspectors and have them posted in the wait-
ing-room and in your oﬂice. And take this as a deﬁnite
instruction: the moment I ring, you are all to come in,
revolvers in hand, and surround the fellow. Do you
quite understand?”
“Yes, monsieur le secrétaire-général.”
“Above all, no hesitation. A sudden entrance, in a
body, revolvers in hand. Send M. Nicole in, please.”
As soon as he was alone, Prasville covered the push
of an electric hell on his desk with some papers and
260


THE LAST BATTLE 261
placed two revolvers of respectable dimensions behind a
rampart of books.
“And now,” he said to himself, “to sit tight. If he
has the list, let’s collar it. If he hasn’t, let’s collar him.
And, if possible, let’s collar both. Lupin and the list of
the Twenty-seven, on the same day, especially after
the scandal of this morning, would be a scoop in a thou~
san .”
There was a knock at the door.
“Come in!” said Prasville.
And, rising from his seat:
“Come in, M. Nicole, come in.”
M. Nicole crept timidly into the room, sat down on the
extreme edge of the chair to which Prasville pointed and
said:
“I have come to resume . . . our conversation
of yesterday. . . . Please excuse the delay, mon-
sieur.”
“One second,” said Prasville. “Will you allow me?”
He stepped briskly to the outer room and, seeing his
secretary:
“I was forgetting, M. Lartigue. Have the staircases
and passages searched . . . in case of accomplices.”
He returned, settled himself comfortably, as though
for a long and interesting conversation, and began:
“You were saying, M. Nicole?”
“I was saying, monsieur le secrétaire-général, that I
must apologize for keeping you waiting yesterday
evening. I was detained by diﬂ'erent matters. First
of all, Mme. Mergy .”
“Yes, you had to see Mme. Mergy home.”
“Just so, and to look after her. You can understand
the poor thing’s despair. . . . Her son Gilbert so
near death. . . . And such a. death! . . . At


THE LAST BATTLE 263
“In that case, you saw both Vaucheray and the
executioner hit, one mortally, the other with a slight
wound. And you can’t fail to see .”
“Oh,” exclaimed Prasville, dumbfounded, “you con-
fess it? It was you who ﬁred the shots, this morning?”
“Come, monsieur le secrétaire-général, think! What
choice had I? The list of the Twenty-seven which you
examined was a forgery. Daubrecq, who possessed the
genuine one, would not arrive until a few hours after the
execution. There was therefore but one way for me to
save Gilbert and obtain his pardon; and that was to
delay the execution by a few hours.”
“Obviously.”
“Well, of course. By killing that infamous brute,
that hardened criminal, Vaucheray, and wounding the
executioner, I spread disorder and panic; I made Gilbert’s
execution physically and morally impossible; and I thus
gained the few hours which were indispensable for my
Se‘),
“Obviously,” repeated Prasville.
“Well, of course,” repeated Lupin, “it gives us
all— the government, the president and myself —time to
reﬂect and to see the question in a clearer light. What
do you think of it, monsieur le secrétaire—général? ”
Prasville thought a number of things, especially that
this Nicole was giving proof, to use a vulgar phrase,
of the most infernal cheek, of a check so great that
Prasville felt inclined to ask himself if he was really
right in identifying Nicole with Lupin and Lupin with
Nicole.
“I think, M. Nicole, that a man has to be a jolly good
shot to kill a person whom he wants to kill, at a distance
of a hundred yards, and to wound another person whom
he only wants to wound.”


264 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
“I have had some little practice,” said M. Nicole, with
a modest air.
“And I also think that your plan can only be the fruit
of a long preparation.”
“Not at all! That’s where you’re wrong! It was
absolutely spontaneous! If my servant, or rather the
servant of the friend who lent me his ﬂat in the Place de
Clichy, had not shaken me out of my sleep, to tell me
that he had once served as a shopman in that little
house on the Boulevard Arago, that it did not hold
many tenants and that there might be something to be
done there, our -poor Gilbert would have had his head
cut off by now . . . and Mme. Mergy would most
likely be dead.”
“Oh, you think so?”
“I am sure of it. And that was why I jumped at that
faithful retainer’s suggestion. Only, you interfered with
my plans, monsieur le secrétaire-général.”
“I ,7
“Yes. You must needs go and take the three-
cornered precaution cf posting twelve men at the door
of my house. I had to climb ﬁve ﬂights of back stairs
and go out through the servants’ corridor and the next
house. Such useless fatigue!”
“I am very sorry, M. Nicole. Another time
“It was the same thing at eight o’clock this morning,
when I was waiting for the motor which was bringing
Daubrecq to me in his trunk: I had to march up and
down the Place de Clichy, so as to prevent the car from
stopping outside the door of my place and your men
from interfering in my private affairs. Otherwise, once
again, Gilbert and Clarisse Mergy would have been lost.”
“But,” said Prasville, “those painful events, it seems
to me, are only delayed for a day, two days, three days
7!


266 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
son is about to die! . . . ‘Speak, Daubrecq, or I’ll
go deeper. . . . You won’t speak? . . . Then
I’ll push another qu’arter of an inch . . . and
another still.’ And the patient’s heart stops beating,
the heart that feels the needle coming. . . . And
another quarter of an inch . . . and one more
. I swear before Heaven that the villain would
have spoken! . . . We leant over him and waited
for him to wake, trembling with impatience, so urgent
was our hurry. . . . Can’t you picture the scene,
monsieur le secrétaire-général? The scoundrel lying on a
sofa, well bound, bare-chested, making eﬂorts to throw
off the fumes of chloroform that dazed him. He breathes
quicker. . . . He gasps. . . . He recovers con-
sciousness. . . . His lips move. . . . Already,
Clarisse Mergy whispers, ‘It’s I . . . it’s I, Clar-
isse. . . . Will you answer, you wretch?’ She has
put her ﬁnger on Daubrecq’s chest, at the spot where the
heart stirs like a little animal hidden under the skin.
But she says to me, ‘His eyes . . . his eyes
. I can’t see them under the spectacles .
I want to see them. .’ And I also want to see
those eyes which I do not know, I want to see their
anguish and I want to read in them, before I hear a word,
the secret which is about to burst from the inmost re-
cesses of the terriﬁed body. I want to see. I long to see.
The action which I am about to accomplish excites me
beyond measure. It seems to me that, when I have seen
the eyes, the veil will be rent asunder. I shall know
things. It is a presentiment. It is the profound
intuition of the truth that keeps me on tenterhooks.
The eye-glasses are gone. But the thick opaque spec-
tacles are there still. And I snatch them off, suddenly.
And, suddenly, startled by a disconcerting vision, dazzled


l THE LAST BATTLE 269
' “A glass eye! A common or garden decanter-stopper,
'which the rascal stuck into his eyesocket in the place
of an eye which he had lost— a decanter-stopper, or, if
‘on prefer, a crystal stopper, but the real one, this time,
which he faked, which he hid behind the double bulwark
bf his spectacles and eye-glasses, which contained and
still contains the talisman that enabled Daubrecq to
work as he pleased in safety.”
Prasville lowered his head and put his hand to his
forehead to hide his ﬂushed face: he was almost pos-
sessing the list of the Twenty-seven. It lay before him,
on the table.
Mastering his emotion, he said, in a casual tone:
“So it is there still? ”
“At least, I suppose so,” declared M. Nicole.
“What! You suppose so?”
“I have not opened the hiding-place. I thought,
monsieur le secrétaire-général, I would reserve that
honour for you.”
Prasville put out his hand, took the thing up and
inspected it. It was a block of crystal, imitating nature
to perfection, with all the details of the eyeball, the iris,
the pupil, the cornea.
He at once saw a movable part at the back, which slid
in a groove. He pushed it. The eye was hollow.
There was a tiny ball of paper inside. He unfolded
it, smoothed it out and, quickly, without delaying to
make a preliminary examination of the names, the
hand-writing or the signatures, he raised his arms and
turned the paper to the light from the windows.
“Is the cross of Lorraine there? ” asked M. Nicole.
“Yes, it is there,” replied Prasville. “This is the
genuine list.”
He hesitated a few seconds and remained with his arms


270 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
raised, while reﬂecting what he would do. Then he
folded up the paper again, replaced it in its little crystal
sheath and put the whole thing in his pocket.
M. Nicole, who was looking at him, asked:
“Are you convinced?”
“ Absolutely.”
"Then we are agreed?”
“We are agreed.”
There was a pause, during which the two men watched
each other without appearing to. M. Nicole seemed to
be waiting for the conversation to be resumed. Pras-
ville, sheltered behind the piles of books on the table, sat
with one hand grasping his revolver and the other touch-
ing the push of the electric bell. He felt the whole
strength of his position with a keen zest. He held the
list. He held Lupin:
“If he moves,” he thought, “I cover him with my
revolver and I ring. If he attacks me, I shoot.”
And the situation appeared to him so pleasant that be
‘prolonged it, with the exquisite relish of an epicure.
In the end, M. Nicole took up the threads:
“As we are agreed, monsieur le secrétaire-général, I
think there is nothing left for you to do but to hurry.
Is the execution to take place to-morrow?”
“Yes, to-morrow.”
“In that case, I shall wait here.”
“Wait for what?” _
“The answer from the Elysée.”
“Oh, is some one to bring you an answer?”
“Yes.”
I‘),
“You, monsieur le secrétaire-général.”
Prasville shook his head:
“You must not count on me, M. Nicole.”


272 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
sation was taking; and Prasville felt a vague misgiving
at observing that ﬁt of merriment. He grasped the
butt-end of his revolver and wondered whether he ought
not to ring for help.
M. Nicole drew his chair close to the desk, put his two
elbows on the table, looked Prasville straight in the face
and jeered:
“So, M. Prasville, you know who I am and you have
the assurance to play this game with me?”
“I have that assurance,” said Prasville, accepting
the sneer without ﬂinching.
“Which proves that you consider me, Arsene Lupin —-—
we may as well use the name: yes, Arsene Lupin —-
which proves that you consider me fool enough, dolt
enough to deliver myself like this, bound hand and foot.
into your hands.”
“Upon my word,” said Prasville, airily, patting the
waistcoat-pocket in which he had secreted the crystal
ball, “I don’t quite see what you can do, M. Nicole,
now that Daubrecq’s eye is here, with the list of the
Twenty-seven inside it.”
“What I can do? ” echoed M. Nicole, ironically.
“Yes! The talisman no longer protects you; and you
are now no better off than any other man who might
venture into the very heart of the police-oﬂice, among
some dozens of stalwart fellows posted behind each of
those doors and some hundreds of others who will hasten
up at the ﬁrst signal.”
M. Nicole shrugged his shoulders and gave Prasville
a look of great commiseration:
“ Shall I tell you what is happening, monsieur le secré-
taire-général? Well,you too are having your head turned
by all this business. Now that you possess the list,
your state of mind has suddenly sunk to that of a Dau-
I


THE LAST BATTLE 278

brecq or a d’Albufex. There is no longer even a ques-
tion, in your thoughts, of taking it to your superiors, so
that this ferment of disgrace and discord may be ended.
No, no; a sudden temptation has seized upon you and
intoxicated you; and, losing your head, you say to your-
self, ‘It is here, in my pocket. With its aid, I am
omnipotent. It means wealth, absolute, unbounded
power. Why not beneﬁt by it? Why not let Gilbert
and Clarisse Mergy die? Why not lock up that idiot of
a Lupin? Why not seize this unparalleled piece of
fortune by the forelock?’ ”
He bent toward Prasville and, very softly, in a
friendly and conﬁdential tone, said:
“Don’t do that, my dear sir, don’t do it.”
“And why not?”
“ It is not to your interest, believe me.”
“Really!”
“No. Or, if you absolutely insist on doing it, have
the kindness ﬁrst to consult the twenty-seven names on
the list of which you have just robbed me and reﬂect,
for a moment, on the name of the third person on it.”
“Oh? And what is the name of that third person?”
“It is the name of a friend of yours.”
“What friend?
“Stanislas Vorenglade, the ex-deputy.”
“And then?” said Prasville, who seemed to be losing
some of his self-conﬁdence.
“Then? Ask yourself if an inquiry, however sum-
mary, would not end by discovering, behind that Stan-
islas Vorenglade, the name of one who shared certain
little proﬁts with him.”
“And whose name is?”
“Louis Prasville.”
M. Nicole banged the table with his ﬁst.


274 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
“Enough of this humbug, monsieur! For twenty
minutes, you and I have been beating about the bush.
That will do. Let us understand each other. And, to
begin with, drop your pistols. You can’t imagine that
I am frightened of those playthings! Stand up, sir,
stand up, as I am doing, and ﬁnish the business: I am
in a hurry.”
He put his hand on Prasville’s shoulder and, speaking
with great deliberation, said:
“If, within an hour from now, you are not back from
the Elysée, bringing with you a line to say that the decree
of pardon has been signed; if, within one hour and ten
minutes, I, Arsene Lupin, do not walk out of this build-
ing safe and sound and absolutely free, this evening four
Paris newspapers will receive four letters selected from
the correspondence exchanged between Stanislas
Vorenglade and yourself, the correspondence which
Stanislas Vorenglade sold me this morning. Here’s
your hat, here’s your overcoat, here’s your stick. Be
off. I will wait for you.”
Then happened this extraordinary and yet easily
understood thing, that Prasville did not raise the slight-
est protest nor make the least show_of ﬁght. He received
the sudden, far-reaching, utter conviction of what the
personality known as Arsene Lupin meant, in all its
breadth and fulness. He did not so much as think of
carping, of pretending — as he had until then believed —
that the letters had been destroyed by Vorenglade the
deputy or, at any rate, that Vorenglade would not dare
to hand them over, because, in so doing, Vorenglade was
also working his own destruction. No, Prasville did not
speak a word He felt himself caught in a vise of which
no human strength could force the jaws asunder. There
was nothing to do but yield. He yielded.


THE LAST BATTLE ‘215
1
"Here, in an hour,” repeated M. Nicole.
“In an hour,” said Prasville, tamely. Nevertheless,
in order to know exactly where he stood, he added, “The
letters, of course, will be restored to me against Gilbert’s
pardon?”
“No.’,
“How do you mean, no? In that case, there is no
object in .”
“They will be restored to you, intact, two months
after the day when my friends and I have brought about
Gilbert’s escape . . . thanks to the very slack
watch which will be kept upon him, in accordance with
your orders.”
“Is that all?”
“N o, there are two further conditions: ﬁrst, the
immediate payment of a cheque for forty thousand
francs.”
“Forty thousand francs?”
“The sum for which Stanislas Vorenglade sold me the
letters. It is only fair .”
“And next?”
“Secondly, your resignation, within six months, of
your present position.”
“My resignation? But why?”
M. Nicole made a very digniﬁed gesture:
“Because it is against public morals that one of the
highest positions in the police-service should be occupied
by a man whose hands are not absloutely clean. Make
them send you to parliament or appoint you a
minister, a councillor of State, an ambassador, in short,
any post which your success in the Daubrecq case en-
titles you to demand. But not secretary-general of
police; anything but that! The very thought of it dis-
gusts me.”


276 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
Prasville reﬂected for a moment. He would have
rejoiced in the sudden destruction of his adversary and
he racked his brain for the means to effect it. But he
was helpless.
He went to the door and called:
“M. Lartigue.” And, sinking his voice, but not very
low, for he wished M. Nicole to hear, “M. Lartigue,
dismiss your men. It’s a mistake. And let no one
come into my oﬂice while I am gone. This gentleman
will wait for me here.”
He came back, took the hat, stick and overcoat which
M. Nicole handed him and went out.
“Well done, sir,” said Lupin, between his teeth, when
the door was closed. “You have behaved like a sports-
man and a gentleman. . . . So did I, for that
matter . . . perhaps with too obvious a touch of
contempt . . . and a little too bluntly. But,
tush, this sort of business has to be carried through with
a high hand! The enemy’s got to be staggered! Be-
sides, when one’s own conscience is clear, one can’t take
up too bullying atone with that sort of individual. Lift
your head, Lupin. You have been the champion of
outraged morality. Be proud of your work. And now
take a chair, stretch out your legs and have a rest.
You’ve deserved it.”
When Prasville returned, he found Lupin sound
asleep and had to tap him on the shoulder to wake him.
“Is it done?” asked Lupin.
“It’s done. The pardon will be signed presently.
Here is the written promise.”
“The forty thousand francs?”
“Here’s your cheque?”
“Good. It but remains for me to thank you, mon-
sieur.”


THE LAST BATTLE 277
,7
“So the correspondence . . .
“The Stanislas Vorenglade correspondence will be
handed to you on the conditions stated. However, I am
glad to be able to give you, here and now, as a sign of my
gratitude, the four letters which I meant to send to the
papers this evening.”
“Oh, so you had them on you?” said Prasville.
“I felt so certain, monsieur le secrétaire-général, that
we should end by coming to an understanding.”
He took from his hat a fat envelope, sealed with
ﬁve red seals, which was pinned inside the lining, and
handed it to Prasville, who thrust it into his pocket.
Then he said:
“Monsieur le secrétaire-général, I don’t know when I
shall have the pleasure of seeing you again. If you _have
the least communication to make to me, one line in the
agony column of the Journal will be suﬂicient. Just
head it, ‘M. Nicole.’ Good-day to you.”
And he withdrew.
Prasville, when he was alone, felt as if he were waking
from a nightmare during which he had performed in-
coherent actions over which his conscious mind had no
control. He was almost thinking of ringing and causing
a stir in the passages; but, just then, there was a tap at
the door and one of the office-messengers came hurry-
ing in.
“What’s the matter?” asked Prasville.
“Monsieur le secrétaire-général, it’s Monsieur le
Député Daubrecq asking to see you . . . on a
matter of the highest importance.”
“Daubrecq!” exclaimed Prasville, in bewilderment.
“Daubrecq here! Show him in.”
Daubrecq had not waited for the order. He ran up to
Prasville, out of breath, with his clothes in disorder, a


278 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
bandage over his left eye, no tie, no collar, looking like
an escaped lunatic; and the door was not closed before
he caught hold of Prasville with his two enormous hands:
“Have you the list?”
“Yes.7,
“Have you bought it?”
‘lyes.7,
“At the price of Gilbert’s pardon?”
“Yes/7
“Is it signed?”
l‘YeS.!!
Daubrecq made a furious gesture:
“You fool! You fool! You’ve been trapped! For
hatred of me, I expect? And now you’re going to take
your revenge?”
“With a certain satisfaction, Daubrecq. Remember
my little friend, the opera-dancer, at Nice . . .
It’s your turn now to dance.”
“So it means prison? ”
“I should think so,” said Prasville. “Besides, it
doesn’t matter. You’re done for, anyhow. Deprived
of the list, without defence of any kind, you’re bound to
fall to pieces of your own weight. And I shall be present
at the break-up. That’s my revenge.”
“And you believe that!” yelled Daubrecq, furiously.
"You believe that they will wring my neck like a
chicken’s and that I shall not know how to defend my-
self and that I have no claws left and no teeth to bite
with! Well, my boy, if I do come to grief, there’s al-
ways one who will fall with me and that is Master
Prasville, the partner of Stanislas Vorenglade, who is
going to hand me every proof in existence against him,
so that I may get him sent to gaol without delay. Aha,
I’ve got you ﬁxed, old chap! With those letters, you’ll


THE LAST BATTLE 279
go as I please, hang it all, and there will be ﬁne days
yet for Daubrecq the deputy! What! You’re laughing,
are you? Perhaps those letters don’t exist?”
Prasville shrugged his shoulders:
“Yes, they exist. But Vorenglade no longer has
them in his possession.”
“ Since when? ”
“ Since this morning. Vorenglade sold them, two hours
ago, for the sum of forty thousand francs; and I have
bought them back at the same price.”
Daubrecq burst into a great roar of laughter:
“Lord, how funny! Forty thousand francs! You’ve
paid forty thousand francs! To M. Nicole, I suppose,
who sold you the list of the Twenty-seven? Well, would
you like me to tell you the real name of M. Nicole?
It’s Arsene Lupin!”
“I know that.”
“ Very likely. But what you don’t know, you silly ass,
is that I have come straight from Stanislas Vorenglade’s
and that Stanislas Vorenglade left Paris four days ago!
Oh, what a joke! They’ve sold you waste paper! And
your forty thousand francs! What an ass! What an
ass!”
He walked out of the room, screaming with laughter
and leaving Prasville absolutely dumbfounded.
So Arséne Lupin possessed no proof at all; and, when
he was threatening and commanding and treating Pras-
ville with that airy insolence, it was all a farce, all bluﬂ !
“No, no, it’s impossible,” thought the secretary-
general. “I have the sealed envelope. . . . It’s
here. . . . I have only to open it.”
He dared not open it. He handled it, weighed it,
examined it. . . . And doubt made its way so
swiftly into his mind that he was not in the least sur-


282 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
Vorenglade looked at the two men, recognized Pras-
ville, recognized Daubrecq, and smiled:
“Oho, it seems that my return was awaited with some
impatience! What’s it all about? Certain letters, I
expect?”
“Yes . . . yes . . .” replied the two men,
fussing around him.
“You’re too late,” he declared.
“Eh? What? What do you mean?”
“I mean that the letters are sold.”
“Sold! To whom?”
“To this gentleman,” said Vorenglade, pointing to his
travelling-companion, “to this gentleman, who thought
that the business was worth going out of his way for and
who came to Amiens to meet me.”
The old gentleman, a very old man wrapped in furs
and leaning on his stick, took off his hat and bowed.
“It’s Lupin,” thought Prasville, “it’s Lupin, beyond
a doubt.”
And he glanced toward the detectives, was nearly
calling them, but the old gentleman explained:
“Yes, I thought the letters were good enough to war-
rant a few hours’ railway journey and the cost of two
return tickets.”
“Two tickets?”
“One for me and the other for one of my friends.”
“One of your friends?”
“Yes, he left us a few minutes ago and reached the
front part of the train through the corridor. He was
in a great hurry.”
Prasville understood: Lupin had taken the precaution‘
to bring an accomplice, and the accomplice was carrying‘
03 the letters. The game was lost, to a certainty."
Lupin had a ﬁrm grip on his victim. There was not‘b4


284 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
done by now. No, don’t thank me: it’s not worth
mentioning. Good—bye, Daubrecq. And, if you should
want a louis or two, to buy yourself a new decanter-
stopper, drop me a line. Good-bye, Daubrecq.”
He walked away.
He had not gone ﬁfty steps when he heard the sound
of a shot.
He turned round.
Daubrecq had blown his brains out.
“De profundisl ” murmured Lupin, taking off his hat.
Two months later, Gilbert, whose sentence had been
commuted to one of penal servitude for life, made his
escape from the Ile de Ré, on the day before that on
which he was to have been transported to New Caledonia.
It was a strange escape. Its least details remained
diﬂicult to understand; and, like the two shots on the
Boulevard Arago, it greatly enhanced Arsene Lupin’s
prestige. _
“Taken all round,” said Lupin to me, one day, after
telling me the different episodes of the story, “taken all
around, no enterprise has ever given me more trouble or
cost me greater exertions than that confounded adven-
ture which, if you don’t mind, we will call, The Crystal
Stopper; or, Never Say Die. In twelve hours, between
six o’clock in the morning and six o’clock in the evening,
I made up for six months of bad luck, blunders, gropings
in the dark and reverses. I certainly count those
twelve hours among the ﬁnest and the most glorious of
my life.”
“And Gilbert?” I asked. “What became of him?”
“He is farming his own land, way down in Algeria,
under his real name, his only name of Antoine Mergy.


286 THE CRYSTAL STOPPER
“I even believe,” he said, in a jesting tone, “that I
asked her to marry me. After all, I had saved her son,
had I not? . . . So . . . I thought. .
What a rebuff! . . . It produced a coolness between
us. . . . Since then ”
“You have forgotten her?”
“Oh, certainly! But it required the consolations of
one Italian, two Americans, three Russians, a German
grand-duchess and a Chinawoman to do it!”
“And, after that . . . ?”
“After that, so as to place an insuperable barrier
between myself and her, I got married.”
“Nonsense! You got married, you, Arsene Lupin?”
“Married, wedded, spliced, in the most lawful fashion.
One of the greatest names in France. An only daughter.
A colossal fortune. . . . What! You don’t know
the story? Well, it’s worth hearing.”
And, straightway, Lupin, who was in a conﬁdential
vein, began to tell me the story of his marriage to An-
gélique de Sarzeau-Vendome, Princesse de Bourbon-
Condé, to-day Sister Marie-Auguste, a humble nun
in the Visitation Convent. . .*
But, after the ﬁrst few words, he stopped, as though
his narrative had suddenly ceased to interest him, and
he remained pensive.
“What’s the matter, Lupin? ”
“The matter? Nothing.”
“Yes, yes. . . . There . . . now you’re
smiling. . . . Is it Daubrecq’s secret receptacle,
his glass eye, that’s making you laugh?”
“Not at all.”
“What then?”

*See The Cvnfessions of Arséne Lupin. By Maurice Leblanc.
Translated by Alexander Teixeira de Mattos.


THE LAST BATTLE 287
“Nothing, I tell you . . . only a memory.”
“A pleasant memory?”
“Yes! . . . Yes, a delightful memory even.
. . . It was at night, off the Ile de Ré, on the ﬁshing-
smack in which Clarisse and I were taking Gilbert away.
We were alone, the two of us, in the stern of
theboat. . . . And I remember . . . I talked
. . . I spoke words and more words. . . . I
said all that I had on my heart. . . . And then
. then came silence, a perturbing and disarming
silence. . ”
(6),
“Well, I swear to you that the woman whom I took
in my arms that night and kissed on the lips—oh,
not for long: a few seconds only, but no matter!— I
swear before heaven that she was something more than
a grateful mother, something more than a friend yielding
to a moment of susceptibility, that she was a woman
also, a woman quivering with emotion. . . .” And
he continued, with a bitter laugh, “Who ran away next
day, never to see me again.”
He was silent once more. Then he whispered:
“Clarisse . . . Clarisse. . . . On the day
when I am tired and disappointed and weary of life, I
will come to you down there, in your little Arab house
in that little white house, Clarisse, where
you are waiting for me. .”
THEEND


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