“Nom de nom!” cried Ganimard, “that’s one of his old tricks!”
Ganimard hastened after the automobile around the Madeleine. Then, he burst into laughter. At the entrance to the Boulevard Malesherbes, the automobile had stopped and Mon. Gerbois had alighted.
“Quick, Folenfant, the chauffeur! It may be the man Ernest.”
Folenfant interviewed the chauffeur. His name was Gaston; he was an employee of the automobile cab company; ten minutes ago, a gentleman had engaged him and told him to wait near the news-stand for another gentleman.
“And the second man — what address did he give?” asked Folenfant.
“No address. ‘Boulevard Malesherbes ... avenue de Messine ... double pourboire.’ That is all.”
But, during this time, Mon. Gerbois had leaped into the first passing carriage.
“To the Concorde station, Metropolitan,” he said to the driver.
He left the underground at the Place du Palais-Royal, ran to another carriage and ordered it to go to the Place de la Bourse. Then a second journey by the underground to the Avenue de Villiers, followed by a third carriage drive to number 25 rue Clapeyron.
Number 25 rue Clapeyron is separated from the Boulevard des Batignolles by the house which occupies the angle formed by the two streets. He ascended to the first floor and rang. A gentleman opened the door.
“Does Monsieur Detinan live here?”
“Yes, that is my name. Are you Monsieur Gerbois?”
“Yes.”
“I was expecting you. Step in.”
As Mon. Gerbois entered the lawyer’s office, the clock struck three. He said:
“I am prompt to the minute. Is he here?”
“Not yet.”
Mon. Gerbois took a seat, wiped his forehead, looked at his watch as if he did not know the time, and inquired, anxiously:
“Will he come?”
“Well, monsieur,” replied the lawyer, “that I do not know, but I am quite as anxious and impatient as you are to find out. If he comes, he will run a great risk, as this house has been closely watched for the last two weeks. They distrust me.”
“They suspect me, too. I am not sure whether the detectives lost sight of me or not on my way here.”
“But you were—”
“It wouldn’t be my fault,” cried the professor, quickly. “You cannot reproach me. I promised to obey his orders, and I followed them to the very letter. I drew the money at the time fixed by him, and I came here in the manner directed by him. I have faithfully performed my part of the agreement — let him do his!”
After a short silence, he asked, anxiously:
“He will bring my daughter, won’t he?”
“I expect so.”
“But ... you have seen him?”
“I? No, not yet. He made the appointment by letter, saying both of you would be here, and asking me to dismiss my servants before three o’clock and admit no one while you were here. If I would not consent to that arrangement, I was to notify him by a few words in the Echo de France. But I am only too happy to oblige Mon. Lupin, and so I consented.”
“Ah! how will this end?” moaned Mon. Gerbois.
He took the bank-notes from his pocket, placed them on the table and divided them into two equal parts. Then the two men sat there in silence. From time to time, Mon. Gerbois would listen. Did someone ring?... His nervousness increased every minute, and Monsieur Detinan also displayed considerable anxiety. At last, the lawyer lost his patience. He rose abruptly, and said:
“He will not come.... We shouldn’t expect it. It would be folly on his part. He would run too great a risk.”
And Mon. Gerbois, despondent, his hands resting on the bank-notes, stammered:
“Oh! Mon Dieu! I hope he will come. I would give the whole of that money to see my daughter again.”
The door opened.
“Half of it will be sufficient, Monsieur Gerbois.”
These words were spoken by a well-dressed young man who now entered the room and was immediately recognized by Mon. Gerbois as the person who had wished to buy the desk from him at Versailles. He rushed toward him.
“Where is my daughter — my Suzanne?”
Arsène Lupin carefully closed the door, and, while slowly removing his gloves, said to the lawyer:
“My dear maître, I am indebted to you very much for your kindness in consenting to defend my interests. I shall not forget it.”
Mon. Detinan murmured:
“But you did not ring. I did not hear the door—”
“Doors and bells are things that should work without being heard. I am here, and that is the important point.”
“My daughter! Suzanne! Where is she!” repeated the professor.
“Mon Dieu, monsieur,” said Lupin, “what’s your hurry? Your daughter will be here in a moment.”
Lupin walked to and fro for a minute, then, with the pompous air of an orator, he said:
“Monsieur Gerbois, I congratulate you on the clever way in which you made the journey to this place.”
Then, perceiving the two piles of bank-notes, he exclaimed:
“Ah! I see! the million is here. We will not lose any time. Permit me.”
“One moment,” said the lawyer, placing himself before the table. “Mlle. Gerbois has not yet arrived.”
“Well?”
“Is not her presence indispensable?”
“I understand! I understand! Arsène Lupin inspires only a limited confidence. He might pocket the half-million and not restore the hostage. Ah! monsieur, people do not understand me. Because I have been obliged, by force of circumstances, to commit certain actions a little ... out of the ordinary, my good faith is impugned ... I, who have always observed the utmost scrupulosity and delicacy in business affairs. Besides, my dear monsieur if you have any fear, open the window and call. There are at least a dozen detectives in the street.”
“Do you think so?”
Arsène Lupin raised the curtain.
“I think that Monsieur Gerbois could not throw Ganimard off the scent.... What did I tell you? There he is now.”
“Is it possible!” exclaimed the professor. “But I swear to you—”
“That you have not betrayed me?... I do not doubt you, but those fellows are clever — sometimes. Ah! I can see Folenfant, and Greaume, and Dieuzy — all good friends of mine!”
Mon. Detinan looked at Lupin in amazement. What assurance! He laughed as merrily as if engaged in some childish sport, as if no danger threatened him. This unconcern reassured the lawyer more than the presence of the detectives. He left the table on which the bank-notes were lying. Arsène Lupin picked up one pile of bills after the other, took from each of them twenty-five bank-notes which he offered to Mon. Detinan, saying:
“The reward of your services to Monsieur Gerbois and Arsène Lupin. You well deserve it.”
“You owe me nothing,” replied the lawyer.
“What! After all the trouble we have caused you!”
“And all the pleasure you have given me!”
“That means, my dear monsieur, that you do not wish to accept anything from Arsène Lupin. See what it is to have a bad reputation.”
He then offered the fifty thousand francs to Mon. Gerbois, saying:
“Monsieur, in memory of our pleasant interview, permit me to return you this as a wedding-gift to Mlle. Gerbois.”
Mon. Gerbois took the money, but said:
“My daughter will not marry.”
“She will not marry if you refuse your consent; but she wishes to marry.”
“What do you know about it?”
“I know that young girls often dream of such things unknown to their parents. Fortunately, there are sometimes good genii like Arsène Lupin who discover their little secrets in the drawers of their writing desks.”
“Did you find anything else?” asked the lawyer. “I confess I am curious to know why you took so much trouble to get possession of that desk.”
�
��On account of its historic interest, my friend. Although despite the opinion of Monsieur Gerbois, the desk contained no treasure except the lottery ticket — and that was unknown to me — I had been seeking it for a long time. That writing-desk of yew and mahogany was discovered in the little house in which Marie Walêwska once lived in Boulogne, and, on one of the drawers there is this inscription: ‘Dedicated to Napoleon I, Emperor of the French, by his very faithful servant, Mancion.’ And above it, these words, engraved with the point of a knife: ‘To you, Marie.’ Afterwards, Napoleon had a similar desk made for the Empress Josephine; so that the secretary that was so much admired at the Malmaison was only an imperfect copy of the one that will henceforth form part of my collection.”
“Ah! if I had known, when in the shop, I would gladly have given it up to you,” said the professor.
Arsène Lupin smiled, as he replied:
“And you would have had the advantage of keeping for your own use lottery ticket number 514.”
“And you would not have found it necessary to abduct my daughter.”
“Abduct your daughter?”
“Yes.”
“My dear monsieur, you are mistaken. Mlle. Gerbois was not abducted.”
“No?”
“Certainly not. Abduction means force or violence. And I assure you that she served as hostage of her own free will.”
“Of her own free will!” repeated Mon. Gerbois, in amazement.
“In fact, she almost asked to be taken. Why, do you suppose that an intelligent young girl like Mlle. Gerbois, and who, moreover, nourishes an unacknowledged passion, would hesitate to do what was necessary to secure her dowry. Ah! I swear to you it was not difficult to make her understand that it was the only way to overcome your obstinacy.”
Mon. Detinan was greatly amused. He replied to Lupin:
“But I should think it was more difficult to get her to listen to you. How did you approach her?”
“Oh! I didn’t approach her myself. I have not the honor of her acquaintance. A friend of mine, a lady, carried on the negotiations.”
“The blonde woman in the automobile, no doubt.”
“Precisely. All arrangements were made at the first interview near the college. Since then, Mlle. Gerbois and her new friend have been travelling in Belgium and Holland in a manner that should prove most pleasing and instructive to a young girl. She will tell you all about it herself—”
The bell of the vestibule door rang, three rings in quick succession, followed by two isolated rings.
“It is she,” said Lupin. “Monsieur Detinan, if you will be so kind—”
The lawyer hastened to the door.
Two young women entered. One of them threw herself into the arms of Mon. Gerbois. The other approached Lupin. The latter was a tall woman of a good figure, very pale complexion, and with blond hair, parted over her forehead in undulating waves, that glistened and shone like the setting sun. She was dressed in black, with no display of jewelled ornaments; but, on the contrary, her appearance indicated good taste and refined elegance. Arsène Lupin spoke a few words to her; then, bowing to Mlle. Gerbois, he said:
“I owe you an apology, mademoiselle, for all your troubles, but I hope you have not been too unhappy—”
“Unhappy! Why, I should have been very happy, indeed, if it hadn’t been for leaving my poor father.”
“Then all is for the best. Kiss him again, and take advantage of the opportunity — it is an excellent one — to speak to him about your cousin.”
“My cousin! What do you mean? I don’t understand.”
“Of course, you understand. Your cousin Philippe. The young man whose letters you kept so carefully.”
Suzanne blushed; but, following Lupin’s advice, she again threw herself into her father’s arms. Lupin gazed upon them with a tender look.
“Ah! Such is my reward for a virtuous act! What a touching picture! A happy father and a happy daughter! And to know that their joy is your work, Lupin! Hereafter these people will bless you, and reverently transmit your name unto their descendants, even unto the fourth generation. What a glorious reward, Lupin, for one act of kindness!”
He walked to the window.
“Is dear old Ganimard still waiting?... He would like very much to be present at this charming domestic scene!... Ah! he is not there.... Nor any of the others.... I don’t see anyone. The deuce! The situation is becoming serious. I dare say they are already under the porte-cochere ... talking to the concierge, perhaps ... or, even, ascending the stairs!”
Mon. Gerbois made a sudden movement. Now, that his daughter had been restored to him, he saw the situation in a different light. To him, the arrest of his adversary meant half-a-million francs. Instinctively, he made a step forward. As if by chance, Lupin stood in his way.
“Where are you going, Monsieur Gerbois? To defend me against them! That is very kind of you, but I assure you it is not necessary. They are more worried than I.”
Then he continued to speak, with calm deliberation:
“But, really, what do they know? That you are here, and, perhaps, that Mlle. Gerbois is here, for they may have seen her arrive with an unknown lady. But they do not imagine that I am here. How is it possible that I could be in a house that they ran-sacked from cellar to garret this morning? They suppose that the unknown lady was sent by me to make the exchange, and they will be ready to arrest her when she goes out—”
At that moment, the bell rang. With a brusque movement, Lupin seized Mon. Gerbois, and said to him, in an imperious tone:
“Do not move! Remember your daughter, and be prudent — otherwise — As to you, Monsieur Detinan, I have your promise.”
Mon. Gerbois was rooted to the spot. The lawyer did not stir. Without the least sign of haste, Lupin picked up his hat and brushed the dust from off it with his sleeve.
“My dear Monsieur Detinan, if I can ever be of service to you.... My best wishes, Mademoiselle Suzanne, and my kind regards to Monsieur Philippe.”
He drew a heavy gold watch from his pocket.
“Monsieur Gerbois, it is now forty-two minutes past three. At forty-six minutes past three, I give you permission to leave this room. Not one minute sooner than forty-six minutes past three.”
“But they will force an entrance,” suggested Mon. Detinan.
“You forget the law, my dear monsieur! Ganimard would never venture to violate the privacy of a French citizen. But, pardon me, time flies, and you are all slightly nervous.”
He placed his watch on the table, opened the door of the room and addressing the blonde lady he said:
“Are you ready my dear?”
He drew back to let her pass, bowed respectfully to Mlle. Gerbois, and went out, closing the door behind him. Then they heard him in the vestibule, speaking, in a loud voice: “Good-day, Ganimard, how goes it? Remember me to Madame Ganimard. One of these days, I shall invite her to breakfast. Au revoir, Ganimard.”
The bell rang violently, followed by repeated rings, and voices on the landing.
“Forty-five minutes,” muttered Mon. Gerbois.
After a few seconds, he left the room and stepped into the vestibule. Arsène Lupin and the blonde lady had gone.
“Papa!... you mustn’t! Wait!” cried Suzanne.
“Wait! you are foolish!... No quarter for that rascal!... And the half-million?”
He opened the outer door. Ganimard rushed in.
“That woman — where is she? And Lupin?”
“He was here ... he is here.”
Ganimard uttered a cry of triumph.
“We have him. The house is surrounded.”
“But the servant’s stairway?” suggested Mon. Detinan.
“It leads to the court,” said Ganimard. “There is only one exit — the street-door. Ten men are guarding it.”
“But he didn’t come in by the street-door, and he will not go out that way.”
“What way, then?” asked Ganimard. “Through the air?”
&nbs
p; He drew aside a curtain and exposed a long corridor leading to the kitchen. Ganimard ran along it and tried the door of the servants’ stairway. It was locked. From the window he called to one of his assistants:
“Seen anyone?”
“No.”
“Then they are still in the house!” he exclaimed. “They are hiding in one of the rooms! They cannot have escaped. Ah! Lupin, you fooled me before, but, this time, I get my revenge.”
At seven o’clock in the evening, Mon. Dudonis, chief of the detective service, astonished at not receiving any news, visited the rue Clapeyron. He questioned the detectives who were guarding the house, then ascended to Mon. Detinan’s apartment. The lawyer led him into his room. There, Mon. Dudonis beheld a man, or rather two legs kicking in the air, while the body to which they belonged was hidden in the depths of the chimney.
“Ohé!... Ohé!” gasped a stifled voice. And a more distant voice, from on high, replied:
“Ohé!... Ohé!”
Mon. Dudonis laughed, and exclaimed:
“Here! Ganimard, have you turned chimney-sweep?”
The detective crawled out of the chimney. With his blackened face, his sooty clothes, and his feverish eyes, he was quite unrecognizable.
“I am looking for him,” he growled.
“Who?”
“Arsène Lupin ... and his friend.”
“Well, do you suppose they are hiding in the chimney?”
Ganimard arose, laid his sooty hand on the sleeve of his superior officer’s coat, and exclaimed, angrily:
“Where do you think they are, chief? They must be somewhere! They are flesh and blood like you and me, and can’t fade away like smoke.”
“No, but they have faded away just the same.”
“But how? How? The house is surrounded by our men — even on the roof.”
“What about the adjoining house?”
“There’s no communication with it.”
“And the apartments on the other floors?”
“I know all the tenants. They have not seen anyone.”
“Are you sure you know all of them?”
“Yes. The concierge answers for them. Besides, as an extra precaution, I have placed a man in each apartment. They can’t escape. If I don’t get them to-night, I will get them to-morrow. I shall sleep here.”
Delphi Collected Works of Maurice Leblanc (Illustrated) (Delphi Series Nine Book 17) Page 21
