The Arsene Lupin MEGAPACK ®. Морис Леблан
face. Holmes recognized him—it was Arsène Lupin.
If the Englishman had not given an almost imperceptible movement of surprise, Lupin would have supposed that his presence on board had been known to Holmes, so well did he control his feelings and so natural was the easy manner in which he extended his hand to his adversary.
“How’s the good health, Monsieur Lupin?”
“Bravo!” exclaimed Lupin, who could not repress a cry of admiration at the Englishman’s sang-froid.
“Bravo? and why?”
“Why? Because I appear before you like a ghost, only a few hours after you saw me drowned in the Seine; and through pride—a quality that is essentially English—you evince not the slightest surprise. You greet me as a matter of course. Ah! I repeat: Bravo! Admirable!”
“There is nothing remarkable about it. From the manner in which you fell from the boat, I knew very well that you fell voluntarily, and that the bullet had not touched you.”
“And you went away without knowing what had become of me?”
“What had become of you? Why, I knew that. There were at least five hundred people on the two banks of the river within a space of half-a-mile. If you escaped death, your capture was certain.”
“And yet I am here.”
“Monsieur Lupin, there are two men in the world at whom I am never astonished: in the first place, myself—and then, Arsène Lupin.”
The treaty of peace was concluded.
If Holmes had not been successful in his contests with Arsène Lupin; if Lupin remained the only enemy whose capture he must never hope to accomplish; if, in the course of their struggles, he had not always displayed a superiority, the Englishman had, none the less, by means of his extraordinary intuition and tenacity, succeeded in recovering the Jewish lamp as well as the blue diamond.
This time, perhaps, the finish had not been so brilliant, especially from the stand-point of the public spectators, since Holmes was obliged to maintain a discreet silence in regard to the circumstances in which the Jewish lamp had been recovered, and to announce that he did not know the name of the thief. But as man to man, Arsène Lupin against Sherlock Holmes, detective against burglar, there was neither victor nor vanquished. Each of them had won corresponding victories.
Therefore they could now converse as courteous adversaries who had lain down their arms and held each other in high regard.
At Holmes’ request, Arsène Lupin related the strange story of his escape.
“If I may dignify it by calling it an escape,” he said. “It was so simple! My friends were watching for me, as I had asked them to meet me there to recover the Jewish lamp. So, after remaining a good half-hour under the overturned boat, I took advantage of an occasion when Folenfant and his men were searching for my dead body along the bank of the river, to climb on top of the boat. Then my friends simply picked me up as they passed by in their motor-boat, and we sailed away under the staring eyes of an astonished multitude, including Ganimard and Folenfant.”
“Very good,” exclaimed Holmes, “very neatly played. And now you have some business in England?”
“Yes, some accounts to square up.… But I forgot…what about Monsieur d’Imblevalle?”
“He knows everything.”
“All! my dear Holmes, what did I tell you? The wrong is now irreparable. Would it not have been better to have allowed me to carry out the affair in my own way? In a day or two more, I should have recovered the stolen goods from Bresson, restored them to Monsieur d’Imblevalle, and those two honest citizens would have lived together in peace and happiness ever after. Instead of that—”
“Instead of that,” said Holmes, sneeringly, “I have mixed the cards and sown the seeds of discord in the bosom of a family that was under your protection.”
“Mon Dieu! of course, I was protecting them. Must a person steal, cheat and wrong all the time?”
“Then you do good, also?”
“When I have the time. Besides, I find it amusing. Now, for instance, in our last adventure, I found it extremely diverting that I should be the good genius seeking to help and save unfortunate mortals, while you were the evil genius who dispensed only despair and tears.”
“Tears! Tears!” protested Holmes.
“Certainly! The d’Imblevalle household is demolished, and Alice Demun weeps.”
“She could not remain any longer. Ganimard would have discovered her some day, and, through her, reached Madame d’Imblevalle.”
“Quite right, monsieur; but whose fault is it?”
Two men passed by. Holmes said to Lupin, in a friendly tone:
“Do you know those gentlemen?”
“I thought I recognized one of them as the captain of the steamer.”
“And the other?”
“I don’t know.”
“It is Austin Gilett, who occupies in London a position similar to that of Monsieur Dudouis in Paris.”
“Ah! how fortunate! Will you be so kind as to introduce me? Monsieur Dudouis is one of my best friends, and I shall be delighted to say as much of Monsieur Austin Gilett.”
The two gentlemen passed again.
“And if I should take you at your word, Monsieur Lupin?” said Holmes, rising, and seizing Lupin’s wrist with a hand of iron.
“Why do you grasp me so tightly, monsieur? I am quite willing to follow you.”
In fact, he allowed himself to be dragged along without the least resistance. The two gentlemen were disappearing from sight. Holmes quickened his pace. His finger-nails even sank into Lupin’s flesh.
“Come! Come!” he exclaimed, with a sort of feverish haste, in harmony with his action. “Come! quicker than that.”
But he stopped suddenly. Alice Demun was following them.
“What are you doing, Mademoiselle? You need not come. You must not come!”
It was Lupin who replied:
“You will notice, monsieur, that she is not coming of her own free will. I am holding her wrist in the same tight grasp that you have on mine.”
“Why!”
“Because I wish to present her also. Her part in the affair of the Jewish lamp is much more important than mine. Accomplice of Arsène Lupin, accomplice of Bresson, she has a right to tell her adventure with the Baroness d’Imblevalle—which will deeply interest Monsieur Gilett as an officer of the law. And by introducing her also, you will have carried your gracious intervention to the very limit, my dear Holmes.”
The Englishman released his hold on his prisoner’s wrist. Lupin liberated Mademoiselle.
They stood looking at each other for a few seconds, silently and motionless. Then Holmes returned to the bench and sat down, followed by Lupin and the girl. After a long silence, Lupin said: “You see, monsieur, whatever we may do, we will never be on the same side. You are on one side of the fence; I am on the other. We can exchange greetings, shake hands, converse a moment, but the fence is always there. You will remain Sherlock Holmes, detective, and I, Arsène Lupin, gentleman-burglar. And Sherlock Holmes will ever obey, more or less spontaneously, with more or less propriety, his instinct as a detective, which is to pursue the burglar and run him down, if possible. And Arsène Lupin, in obedience to his burglarious instinct, will always be occupied in avoiding the reach of the detective, and making sport of the detective, if he can do it. And, this time, he can do it. Ha-ha-ha!”
He burst into a loud laugh, cunning, cruel and odious.
Then, suddenly becoming serious,