The Blonde Lady. Leblanc Maurice

Maître Detinan live here?"

      "I am Maître Detinan. M. Gerbois, I presume?"

      "That's it."

      "I was expecting you. Pray come in."

      When M. Gerbois entered the lawyer's office, the clock was striking three and he at once said:

      "This is the time he appointed. Isn't he here?"

      "Not yet."

      M. Gerbois sat down, wiped his forehead, looked at his watch as though he did not know the time and continued, anxiously:

      "Will he come?"

      The lawyer replied:

      "You are asking me something, sir, which I myself am most curious to know. I have never felt so impatient in my life. In any case, if he comes, he is taking a big risk, for the house has been closely watched for the past fortnight.... They suspect me."

      "And me even more," said the professor. "I am not at all sure that the detectives set to watch me have been thrown off my track."

      "But then...."

      "It would not be my fault," cried the professor, vehemently, "and he can have nothing to reproach me with. What did I promise to do? To obey his orders. Well, I have obeyed his orders blindly: I cashed the ticket at the time which he fixed and came on to you in the manner which he ordered. I am responsible for my daughter's misfortune and I have kept my engagements in all good faith. It is for him to keep his." And he added, in an anxious voice, "He will bring back my daughter, won't he?"

      "I hope so."

      "Still … you've seen him?"

      "I? No. He simply wrote asking me to receive you both, to send away my servants before three o'clock and to let no one into my flat between the time of your arrival and his departure. If I did not consent to this proposal, he begged me to let him know by means of two lines in the Écho de France. But I am only too pleased to do Arsène Lupin a service and I consent to everything."

      M. Gerbois moaned:

      "Oh, dear, how will it all end?"

      He took the bank-notes from his pocket, spread them on the table and divided them into two bundles of five hundred each. Then the two men sat silent. From time to time, M. Gerbois pricked up his ears: wasn't that a ring at the door-bell?… His anguish increased with every minute that passed. And Maître Detinan also experienced an impression that was almost painful.

      For a moment, in fact, the advocate lost all his composure. He rose abruptly from his seat:

      "We shan't see him.... How can we expect to?… It would be madness on his part! He trusts us, no doubt: we are honest men, incapable of betraying him. But the danger lies elsewhere."

      And M. Gerbois, shattered, with his hands on the notes, stammered:

      "If he would only come, oh, if he would only come! I would give all this to have Suzanne back."

      The door opened.

      "Half will do, M. Gerbois."

      Some one was standing on the threshold—a young man, fashionably dressed—and M. Gerbois at once recognized the person who had accosted him outside the curiosity-shop. He leapt toward him:

      "And Suzanne? Where is my daughter?"

      Arsène Lupin closed the door carefully and, quietly unbuttoning his gloves, said to the lawyer:

      "My dear maître, I can never thank you sufficiently for your kindness in consenting to defend my rights. I shall not forget it."

      Maître Detinan could only murmur:

      "But you never rang.... I did not hear the door...."

      "Bells and doors are things that have to do their work without ever being heard. I am here all the same; and that is the great thing."

      "My daughter! Suzanne! What have you done with her?" repeated the professor.

      "Heavens, sir," said Lupin, "what a hurry you're in! Come, calm yourself; your daughter will be in your arms in a moment."

      He walked up and down the room and then, in the tone of a magnate distributing praises:

      "I congratulate you, M. Gerbois, on the skilful way in which you acted just now. If the motor hadn't had that ridiculous accident we should simply have met at the Étoile and saved Maître Detinan the annoyance of this visit.... However, it was destined otherwise!"

      He caught sight of the two bundles of bank-notes and cried:

      "Ah, that's right! The million is there!… Let us waste no time.... Will you allow me?"

      "But," said Maître Detinan, placing himself in front of the table, "Mlle. Gerbois is not here yet."

      "Well?"

      "Well, isn't her presence indispensable?"

      "I see, I see! Arsène Lupin inspires only a partial confidence. He pockets his half-million, without restoring the hostage. Ah, my dear maître, I am sadly misunderstood! Because fate has obliged me to perform acts of a rather … special character, doubts are cast upon my good faith … mine! I, a man all scruples and delicacy!… However, my dear maître, if you're afraid, open your window and call out. There are quite a dozen detectives in the street."

      "Do you think so?"

      Arsène Lupin raised the blind:

      "I doubt if M. Gerbois is capable of throwing Ganimard off the scent.... What did I tell you? There he is, the dear old chap!"

      "Impossible!" cried the professor. "I swear to you, though...."

      "That you have not betrayed me?… I don't doubt it, but the fellows are clever. Look, there's Folenfant!… And Gréaume!… And Dieuzy!… All my best pals, what?"

      Maître Detinan looked at him in surprise. What calmness! He was laughing with a happy laugh, as though he were amusing himself at some child's game, with no danger threatening him.

      This carelessness did even more than the sight of the detectives to reassure the lawyer. He moved away from the table on which the bank-notes lay.

      Arsène Lupin took up the two bundles one after the other, counted twenty-five notes from each of them and, handing the lawyer the fifty bank-notes thus obtained, said:

      "M. Gerbois' share of your fee, my dear maître, and Arsène Lupin's. We owe you that."

      "You owe me nothing," said Maître Detinan.

      "What! After all the trouble we've given you!"

      "You forget the pleasure it has been to me to take that trouble."

      "You mean to say, my dear maître, that you refuse to accept anything from Arsène Lupin. That's the worst," he sighed, "of having a bad reputation." He held out the fifty thousand francs to the professor. "Monsieur, let me give you this in memory of our pleasant meeting: it will be my wedding-present to Mlle. Gerbois."

      M. Gerbois snatched at the notes, but protested:

      "My daughter is not being married."

      "She can't be married if you refuse your consent. But she is dying to be married."

      "What do you know about it?"

      "I know that young ladies often cherish dreams without Papa's consent. Fortunately, there are good geniuses, called Arsène Lupin, who discover the secret of those charming souls hidden away in their writing-desks."

      "Did you discover nothing else?" asked Maître Detinan. "I confess that I am very curious to know why that desk was the object of your attentions."

      "Historical reasons, my dear maître. Although, contrary to M. Gerbois' opinion, it contained no treasure beyond the lottery-ticket, of which I did not know, I wanted it and had been looking for it for some time. The desk, which is made of yew and mahogany, decorated with acanthus-leaf capitals, was found in Marie Walewska's discreet little house at Boulogne-sur-Seine and has an inscription on one of the drawers: 'Dedicated to Napoleon I., Emperor of the French, by his most faithful servant, Mancion.' Underneath are these words, carved