The Arsene Lupin MEGAPACK ®. Морис Леблан
and already you had begun to steal.”
“Oh, only sugar,” protested Lupin.
“Yes, you began by stealing sugar,” said Victoire, in the severe tones of a moralist. “And then it was jam, and then it was pennies. Oh, it was all very well at that age—a little thief is pretty enough. But now—when you’re twenty-eight years old.”
“Really, Victoire, you’re absolutely depressing,” said Lupin, yawning; and he helped himself to jam.
“I know very well that you’re all right at heart,” said Victoire. “Of course you only rob the rich, and you’ve always been kind to the poor.… Yes; there’s no doubt about it: you have a good heart.”
“I can’t help it—what about it?” said Lupin, smiling.
“Well, you ought to have different ideas in your head. Why are you a burglar?”
“You ought to try it yourself, my dear Victoire,” said Lupin gently; and he watched her with a humorous eye.
“Goodness, what a thing to say!” cried Victoire.
“I assure you, you ought,” said Lupin, in a tone of thoughtful conviction. “I’ve tried everything. I’ve taken my degree in medicine and in law. I have been an actor, and a professor of Jiu-jitsu. I have even been a member of the detective force, like that wretched Guerchard. Oh, what a dirty world that is! Then I launched out into society. I have been a duke. Well, I give you my word that not one of these professions equals that of burglar—not even the profession of Duke. There is so much of the unexpected in it, Victoire—the splendid unexpected.… And then, it’s full of variety, so terrible, so fascinating.” His voice sank a little, and he added, “And what fun it is!”
“Fun!” cried Victoire.
“Yes…these rich men, these swells in their luxury—when one relieves them of a bank-note, how they do howl!… You should have seen that fat old Gournay-Martin when I relieved him of his treasures—what an agony! You almost heard the death-rattle in his throat. And then the coronet! In the derangement of their minds—and it was sheer derangement, mind you—already prepared at Charmerace, in the derangement of Guerchard, I had only to put out my hand and pluck the coronet. And the joy, the ineffable joy of enraging the police! To see Guerchard’s furious eyes when I downed him.… And look round you!” He waved his hand round the luxurious room. “Duke of Charmerace! This trade leads to everything…to everything on condition that one sticks to it.… I tell you, Victoire, that when one cannot be a great artist or a great soldier, the only thing to be is a great thief!”
“Oh, be quiet!” cried Victoire. “Don’t talk like that. You’re working yourself up; you’re intoxicating yourself! And all that, it is not Catholic. Come, at your age, you ought to have one idea in your head which should drive out all these others, which should make you forget all these thefts.… Love…that would change you, I’m sure of it. That would make another man of you. You ought to marry.”
“Yes…perhaps…that would make another man of me. That’s what I’ve been thinking. I believe you’re right,” said Lupin thoughtfully.
“Is that true? Have you really been thinking of it?” cried Victoire joyfully.
“Yes,” said Lupin, smiling at her eagerness. “I have been thinking about it—seriously.”
“No more messing about—no more intrigues. But a real woman…a woman for life?” cried Victoire.
“Yes,” said Lupin softly; and his eyes were shining in a very grave face.
“Is it serious—is it real love, dearie?” said Victoire. “What’s she like?”
“She’s beautiful,” said Lupin.
“Oh, trust you for that. Is she a blonde or a brunette?”
“She’s very fair and delicate—like a princess in a fairy tale,” said Lupin softly.
“What is she? What does she do?” said Victoire.
“Well, since you ask me, she’s a thief,” said Lupin with a mischievous smile.
“Good Heavens!” cried Victoire.
“But she’s a very charming thief,” said Lupin; and he rose smiling.
He lighted a cigar, stretched himself and yawned: “She had ever so much more reason for stealing than ever I had,” he said. “And she has always hated it like poison.”
“Well, that’s something,” said Victoire; and her blank and fallen face brightened a little.
Lupin walked up and down the room, breathing out long luxurious puffs of smoke from his excellent cigar, and watching Victoire with a humorous eye. He walked across to his book-shelf, and scanned the titles of his books with an appreciative, almost affectionate smile.
“This is a very pleasant interlude,” he said languidly. “But I don’t suppose it’s going to last very long. As soon as Guerchard recovers from the shock of learning that I spent a quiet night in my ducal bed as an honest duke should, he’ll be getting to work with positively furious energy, confound him! I could do with a whole day’s sleep—twenty-four solid hours of it.”
“I’m sure you could, dearie,” said Victoire sympathetically.
“The girl I’m going to marry is Sonia Kritchnoff,” he said.
“Sonia? That dear child! But I love her already!” cried Victoire. “Sonia, but why did you say she was a thief? That was a silly thing to say.”
“It’s my extraordinary sense of humour,” said Lupin.
The door opened and Charolais bustled in: “Shall I clear away the breakfast?” he said.
Lupin nodded; and then the telephone bell rang. He put his finger on his lips and went to it.
“Are you there?” he said. “Oh, it’s you, Germaine.… Good morning.… Oh, yes, I had a good night—excellent, thank you.… You want to speak to me presently?… You’re waiting for me at the Ritz?”
“Don’t go—don’t go—it isn’t safe,” said Victoire, in a whisper.
“All right, I’ll be with you in about half an hour, or perhaps three-quarters. I’m not dressed yet…but I’m ever so much more impatient than you…good-bye for the present.” He put the receiver on the stand.
“It’s a trap,” said Charolais.
“Never mind, what if it is? Is it so very serious?” said Lupin. “There’ll be nothing but traps now; and if I can find the time I shall certainly go and take a look at that one.”
“And if she knows everything? If she’s taking her revenge…if she’s getting you there to have you arrested?” said Victoire.
“Yes, M. Formery is probably at the Ritz with Gournay-Martin. They’re probably all of them there, weighing the coronet,” said Lupin, with a chuckle.
He hesitated a moment, reflecting; then he said, “How silly you are! If they wanted to arrest me, if they had the material proof which they haven’t got, Guerchard would be here already!”
“Then why did they chase you last night?” said Charolais.
“The coronet,” said Lupin. “Wasn’t that reason enough? But, as it turned out, they didn’t catch me: and when the detectives did come here, they disturbed me in my sleep. And that me was ever so much more me than the man they followed. And then the proofs…they must have proofs. There aren’t any—or rather, what there are, I’ve got!” He pointed to a small safe let into the wall. “In that safe are the coronet, and, above all, the death certificate of the Duke of Charmerace…everything that Guerchard must have to induce M. Formery to proceed. But still, there is a risk—I think I’d better have those things handy in case I have to bolt.”
He