The Essential Maurice Leblanc Collection. Морис Леблан
over a friend's grave. Come, drop these funereal airs!"
"I arrest you."
"You seem quite flabbergasted! In the name of the law, of which he is a faithful limb, Chief-Inspector Ganimard arrests wicked Arsne Lupin. It is an historic moment and you grasp its full importance.... And this is the second time a similar fact occurs. Bravo, Ganimard; you will do well in your career!"
And he held out his wrists for the handcuffs....
They were fastened on almost solemnly. The detectives, in spite of their usual roughness and the bitterness of their resentment against Lupin, acted with reserve and discretion, astounded as they were at being allowed to touch that intangible being.
"My poor Lupin," he sighed, "what would your smart friends say if they saw you humbled like this!"
He separated his wrists with a growing and continuous effort of every muscle. The veins on his forehead swelled. The links of the chain dug into his skin.
"Now then!" he said.
The chain snapped and broke in two.
"Another, mates: this one's no good."
They put two pairs on him. He approved:
"That's better. You can't be too careful."
Then, counting the detectives, he continued:
"How many of you are there, my friends? Twenty-five? Thirty? That's a lot.... I can't do anything against thirty. Ah, if there had been only fifteen of you!"
* * * * *
He really had a manner about him, the manner of a great actor playing his instinctive, spirited part impertinently and frivolously. Shears watched him as a man watches a fine sight of which he is able to appreciate every beauty and every shade. And he absolutely received the strange impression that the struggle was an equal one between those thirty men on the one hand, backed up by all the formidable machinery of the law, and that single being on the other, fettered and unarmed. The two sides were evenly matched.
"Well, matre," said Lupin, "this is your work. Thanks to you, Lupin is going to rot on the damp straw of the cells. Confess that your conscience is not quite easy and that you feel the pangs of remorse."
The Englishman gave an involuntary shrug, as though to say:
"You had the chance...."
"Never! Never!" exclaimed Lupin. "Give you back the blue diamond? Ah, no, it has cost me too much trouble already! I value it, you see. At the first visit I have the honour of paying you in London, next month, I daresay, I will tell you why.... But shall you be in London next month? Would you rather I met you in Vienna? Or St. Petersburg?"
He started. Suddenly, an electric bell rang just below the ceiling. And, this time, it was not the alarm-bell, but the bell of the telephone, which had not been removed and which stood between the two windows.
The telephone! Ah, who was going to fall into the trap laid by an odious chance? Arsne Lupin made a furious move toward the instrument, as though he would have smashed it to atoms and, in so doing, stifled the unknown voice that wished to speak to him. But Ganimard took the receiver from its hook and bent down:
"Hullo!... Hullo!... 648.73.... Yes, that's right."
With a brisk gesture of authority, Shears pushed him aside, took the two receivers and put his handkerchief over the mouthpiece to make the sound of his voice less distinct.
At that moment, he glanced at Lupin. And the look which they exchanged showed them that the same thought had struck them both and that they both foresaw to the end the consequences of that possible, probable, almost certain supposition: it was the blonde lady telephoning. She thought that she was telephoning to Flix Davey, or, rather, Maxime Bermond; and she was about to confide in Holmlock Shears!
And the Englishman repeated:
"Hullo!... Hullo!..."
A pause and Shears:
"Yes, it's I; Maxime."
The drama took shape forthwith, with tragic precision. Lupin, the mocking, indomitable Lupin, no longer even thought of concealing his anxiety and, with features pale as death, strove to hear, to guess. And Shears continued, in reply to the mysterious voice:
"Yes, yes, it's all finished and I was just getting ready to come on to you, as arranged.... Where? Why, where you are.... Isn't that best?"
He hesitated, seeking his words, and then stopped. It was evident that he was trying to draw out the girl without saying too much himself and that he had not the least idea where she was. Besides, Ganimard's presence seemed to hinder him.... Oh, if some miracle could have cut the thread of that diabolical conversation! Lupin called for it with all his might, with all his strained nerves!
And Shears went on:
"Hullo!... Hullo!... Can't you hear?... It's very bad at this end too ... and I can hardly make out.... Can you hear me now? Well ... on second thoughts ... you had better go home.... Oh, no, there's no danger at all.... Why, he's in England! I've had a telegram from Southampton!"
The irony of the words! Shears uttered them with an inexpressible sense of satisfaction. And he added.
"So go at once, dear, and I shall be with you soon."
He hung up the receivers.
"M. Ganimard, I propose to borrow three of your men."
"It's for the blonde lady, I suppose?"
"Yes."
"Do you know who she is, where she is?"
"Yes."
"By Jove! A fine capture! She and Lupin ... that completes the day's work. Folenfant, take two men and go with Mr. Shears."
The Englishman walked away, followed by the three detectives.
The end had come. The blonde lady also was about to fall into Shears's hands. Thanks to his wonderful persistency, thanks to the aid of fortunate events, the battle was turning to victory for him and irreparable disaster for Lupin.
"Mr. Shears!"
The Englishman stopped:
"Yes, M. Lupin?"
Lupin seemed completely crushed by this last blow. His forehead was wrinkled; he was worn-out and gloomy. Yet he drew himself up, with a revival of energy; and, in spite of all, exclaimed, in a voice of glad unconcern:
"You must admit that fate is dead against me. Just now, it prevented me from escaping by the chimney and delivered me into your hands. This moment, it has made use of the telephone to make you a present of the blonde lady. I bow before its decrees."
"Meaning...?"
"Meaning that I am prepared to reopen negotiations."
Shears took the inspector aside and begged permission, but in a tone that allowed of no refusal, to exchange a few words with Lupin. Then he walked across to him. The momentous conversation took place. It opened in short, nervous phrases:
"What do you want?"
"Mlle. Destange's liberty."
"You know the price?"
"Yes."
"And you agree?"
"I agree to all your conditions."
"Ah!" exclaimed the astonished Englishman. "But ... you refused just now ... for yourself...."
"It was a question of myself,