The Greatest Adventures of Arsène Lupin (Boxed-Set). Морис Леблан
of Mademoiselle Gournay-Martin?"
"Scoundrel!" cried Guerchard, pale with sudden, helpless fury.
"Well, do it," taunted the Duke. "Be an ass.... Make yourself the laughing-stock of Paris ... call your coppers in. Have you a proof—one single proof? Not one."
"Oh, I shall get them," howled Guerchard, beside himself.
"I think you may," said the Duke coolly. "And you might be able to arrest me next week ... the day after to-morrow perhaps ... perhaps never ... but not to-night, that's certain."
"Oh, if only somebody could hear you!" gasped Guerchard.
"Now, don't excite yourself," said the Duke. "That won't produce any proofs for you.... The fact is, M. Formery told you the truth when he said that, when it is a case of Lupin, you lose your head. Ah, that Formery—there is an intelligent man if you like."
"At all events, the coronet is safe ... to-night—"
"Wait, my good chap ... wait," said the Duke slowly; and then he snapped out: "Do you know what's behind that door?" and he flung out his hand towards the door of the inner drawing-room, with a mysterious, sinister air.
"What?" cried Guerchard; and he whipped round and faced the door, with his eyes starting out of his head.
"Get out, you funk!" said the Duke, with a great laugh.
"Hang you!" said Guerchard shrilly.
"I said that you were going to be absolutely pitiable," said the Duke, and he laughed again cruelly.
"Oh, go on talking, do!" cried Guerchard, mopping his forehead.
"Absolutely pitiable," said the Duke, with a cold, disquieting certainty. "As the hand of that clock moves nearer and nearer midnight, you will grow more and more terrified." He paused, and then shouted violently, "Attention!"
Guerchard jumped; and then he swore.
"Your nerves are on edge," said the Duke, laughing.
"Joker!" snarled Guerchard.
"Oh, you're as brave as the next man. But who can stand the anguish of the unknown thing which is bound to happen? ... I'm right. You feel it, you're sure of it. At the end of these few fixed minutes an inevitable, fated event must happen. Don't shrug your shoulders, man; you're green with fear."
The Duke was no longer a smiling, cynical dandy. There emanated from him an impression of vivid, terrible force. His voice had deepened. It thrilled with a consciousness of irresistible power; it was overwhelming, paralyzing. His eyes were terrible.
"My men are outside ... I'm armed," stammered Guerchard.
"Child! Bear in mind ... bear in mind that it is always when you have foreseen everything, arranged everything, made every combination ... bear in mind that it is always then that some accident dashes your whole structure to the ground," said the Duke, in the same deep, thrilling voice. "Remember that it is always at the very moment at which you are going to triumph that he beats you, that he only lets you reach the top of the ladder to throw you more easily to the ground."
"Confess, then, that you are Lupin," muttered Guerchard.
"I thought you were sure of it," said the Duke in a jeering tone.
Guerchard dragged the handcuffs out of his pocket, and said between his teeth, "I don't know what prevents me, my boy."
The Duke drew himself up, and said haughtily, "That's enough."
"What?" cried Guerchard.
"I say that that's enough," said the Duke sternly. "It's all very well for me to play at being familiar with you, but don't you call me 'my boy.'"
"Oh, you won't impose on me much longer," muttered Guerchard; and his bloodshot, haggard eyes scanned the Duke's face in an agony, an anguish of doubting impotence.
"If I'm Lupin, arrest me," said the Duke.
"I'll arrest you in three minutes from now, or the coronet will be untouched," cried Guerchard in a firmer tone.
"In three minutes from now the coronet will have been stolen; and you will not arrest me," said the Duke, in a tone of chilling certainty.
"But I will! I swear I will!" cried Guerchard.
"Don't swear any foolish oaths! ... THERE ARE ONLY TWO MINUTES LEFT," said the Duke; and he drew a revolver from his pocket.
"No, you don't!" cried Guerchard, drawing a revolver in his turn.
"What's the matter?" said the Duke, with an air of surprise. "You haven't forbidden me to shoot Lupin. I have my revolver ready, since he's going to come.... THERE'S ONLY A MINUTE LEFT."
"There are plenty of us," said Guerchard; and he went towards the door.
"Funk!" said the Duke scornfully.
Guerchard turned sharply. "Very well," he said, "I'll stick it out alone."
"How rash!" sneered the Duke.
Guerchard ground his teeth. He was panting; his bloodshot eyes rolled in their sockets; the beads of cold sweat stood out on his forehead. He came back towards the table on unsteady feet, trembling from head to foot in the last excitation of the nerves. He kept jerking his head to shake away the mist which kept dimming his eyes.
"At your slightest gesture, at your slightest movement, I'll fire," he said jerkily, and covered the Duke with his revolver.
"I call myself the Duke of Charmerace. You will be arrested to-morrow!" said the Duke, in a compelling, thrilling voice.
"I don't care a curse!" cried Guerchard.
"Only FIFTY SECONDS!" said the Duke.
"Yes, yes," muttered Guerchard huskily. And his eyes shot from the coronet to the Duke, from the Duke to the coronet.
"In fifty seconds the coronet will be stolen," said the Duke.
"No!" cried Guerchard furiously.
"Yes," said the Duke coldly.
"No! no! no!" cried Guerchard.
Their eyes turned to the clock.
To Guerchard the hands seemed to be standing still. He could have sworn at them for their slowness.
Then the first stroke rang out; and the eyes of the two men met like crossing blades. Twice the Duke made the slightest movement. Twice Guerchard started forward to meet it.
At the last stroke both their hands shot out. Guerchard's fell heavily on the case which held the coronet. The Duke's fell on the brim of his hat; and he picked it up.
Guerchard gasped and choked. Then he cried triumphantly:
"I HAVE it; now then, have I won? Have I been fooled this time? Has Lupin got the coronet?"
"It doesn't look like it. But are you quite sure?" said the Duke gaily.
"Sure?" cried Guerchard.
"It's only the weight of it," said the Duke, repressing a laugh. "Doesn't it strike you that it's just a trifle light?"
"What?" cried Guerchard.
"This is merely an imitation." said the Duke, with a gentle laugh.
"Hell and damnation!" howled Guerchard. "Bonavent! Dieusy!"
The door flew open, and half a dozen detectives rushed in.
Guerchard sank into a chair, stupefied, paralyzed; this blow, on the top of the strain of the struggle with the Duke, had broken him.
"Gentlemen," said the Duke sadly, "the coronet has been stolen."
They broke into cries of surprise and bewilderment, surrounding the gasping Guerchard with excited questions.
The Duke walked quietly out of the room.
Guerchard sobbed twice; his eyes opened, and in a dazed fashion wandered