The Essential Maurice Leblanc Collection. Морис Леблан
he rubbed his hands with the same contented air.
At the station, Shears took the rugs, and, followed by Wilson carrying the bags--each his burden!--handed the tickets to the collector and walked gaily into the street.
"A fine day, Wilson.... Sunshine!... Paris is dressed in her best to receive us."
"What a crowd!"
"So much the better, Wilson: we stand less chance of being noticed. No one will recognize us in the midst of such a multitude."
"Mr. Shears, I believe?"
He stopped, somewhat taken aback. Who on earth could be addressing him by name?
A woman was walking beside him, or rather a girl whose exceedingly simple dress accentuated her well-bred appearance. Her pretty face wore a sad and anxious expression. She repeated:
"You must be Mr. Shears, surely?"
He was silent, as much from confusion as from the habit of prudence, and she asked for the third time:
"Surely I am speaking to Mr. Shears?"
"What do you want with me?" he asked, crossly, thinking this a questionable meeting.
She placed herself in front of him:
"Listen to me, Mr. Shears: it is a very serious matter. I know that you are going to the Rue Murillo."
"What's that?"
"I know.... I know.... Rue Murillo.... No. 18. Well, you must not ... no, you must not go.... I assure you, you will regret it. Because I tell you this, you need not think that I am interested in any way. I have a reason; I know what I am saying."
He tried to push her aside. She insisted:
"I entreat you; do not be obstinate.... Oh, if I only knew how to convince you! Look into me, look into the depths of my eyes ... they are sincere ... they speak the truth...."
Desperately, she raised her eyes, a pair of beautiful, grave and limpid eyes that seemed to reflect her very soul. Wilson nodded his head:
"The young lady seems quite sincere," he said.
"Indeed I am," she said beseechingly, "and you must trust me...."
"I do trust you, mademoiselle," replied Wilson.
"Oh, how happy you make me! And your friend trusts me too, does he not? I feel it.... I am sure of it! How glad I am! All will be well!... Oh, what a good idea I had! Listen, Mr. Shears: there's a train for Calais in twenty minutes.... Now, you must take it.... Quick, come with me: it's this way and you have not much time."
She tried to drag Shears with her. He seized her by the arm and, in a voice which he strove to make as gentle as possible, said: "Forgive me, mademoiselle, if I am not able to accede to your wish; but I never turn aside from a task which I have undertaken."
"I entreat you.... I entreat you.... Oh, if you only knew!"
He passed on and walked briskly away.
Wilson lingered behind and said to the girl:
"Be of good hope.... He will see the thing through to the end.... He has never yet been known to fail...."
And he ran after Shears to catch him up.
+---------------+ |HOLMLOCK SHEARS| | | | VERSUS | | | | ARSNE LUPIN | +---------------+
These words, standing out in great black letters, struck their eyes at the first steps they took. They walked up to them: a procession of sandwich-men was moving along in single file. In their hands they carried heavy ferruled canes, with which they tapped the pavement in unison as they went; and their boards bore the above legend in front and a further huge poster at the back which read:
+------------------------+ |THE SHEARS-LUPIN CONTEST| | | | ARRIVAL OF | | | | THE ENGLISH CHAMPION | | | | THE GREAT DETECTIVE | | | | GRAPPLES WITH | | | | THE RUE MURILLO MYSTERY| | | | FULL DETAILS | | | | CHO DE FRANCE | +------------------------+
Wilson tossed his head:
"I say, Holmlock, I thought we were travelling incognito! I shouldn't be astonished to find the Republican Guard waiting for us in the Rue Murillo, with an official reception and champagne!"
"When you try to be witty, Wilson," snarled Shears, "you're witty enough for two!"
He strode up to one of the men with apparent intention of taking him in his powerful hands and tearing him and his advertisement to shreds. Meanwhile, a crowd gathered round the posters, laughing and joking.
Suppressing a furious fit of passion, Shears said to the man:
"When were you hired?"
"This morning."
"When did you start on your round?"
"An hour ago."
"But the posters were ready?"
"Lord, yes! They were there when we came to the office this morning."
So Arsne Lupin had foreseen that Shears would accept the battle! Nay, more, the letter written by Lupin proved that he himself wished for the battle and that it formed part of his intentions to measure swords once more with his rival. Why? What possible motive could urge him to re-commence the contest?
Holmlock Shears showed a momentary hesitation. Lupin must really feel very sure of victory to display such insolence; and was it not falling into a trap to hasten like that in answer to the first call? Then, summoning up all his energy:
"Come along, Wilson! Driver, 18, Rue Murillo!" he shouted.
And, with swollen veins and fists clenched as though for a boxing-match, he leapt into a cab.
* * * * *
The Rue Murillo is lined with luxurious private residences, the backs of which look out upon the Parc Monceau. No. 18 is one of the handsomest of these houses; and Baron d'Imblevalle, who occupies it with his wife and children, has furnished it in the most sumptuous style, as befits an artist and millionaire. There is a courtyard in front of the house, skirted on either side by the servants' offices. At the back, a garden mingles the branches of its trees with the trees of the park.
The two Englishmen rang the bell, crossed the courtyard and were admitted by a footman, who showed them into a small drawing-room at the other side of the house.
They sat down and took a rapid survey of the many valuable objects with which the room was filled.
"Very pretty things," whispered Wilson. "Taste and fancy.... One can safely draw the deduction that people who have had the leisure to hunt out these articles are persons of a certain age ... fifty, perhaps...."
He did not have time to finish. The door opened and M. d'Imblevalle entered, followed by his wife.
Contrary to Wilson's deductions, they were both young, fashionably dressed and very lively in speech and manner. Both were profuse in thanks:
"It is really too good of you! To put yourself out like this! We are almost glad of this trouble since it procures us the pleasure...."
"How charming those French people are!" thought Wilson, who never shirked the opportunity of making an original observation.
"But time is money," cried the baron. "And yours especially, Mr. Shears. Let us come to the point! What do you think of the case? Do you hope to bring it to a satisfactory result?"
"To bring the case to a satisfactory result, I must first know what the case is."
"Don't you know?"