Arsene Lupin. Морис Леблан

Awake? Your precious Duke has been galloping all night," cried Dieusy. "And he runs devilish well, too."

      The door of the bedroom opened; and Lupin stood on the threshold in slippers and pyjamas.

      "What's all this?" he snapped, with the irritation of a man whose sleep has been disturbed; and his tousled hair and eyes dim with exhaustion gave him every appearance of being still heavy with sleep.

      The eyes and mouths of Bonavent and Dieusy opened wide; and they stared at him blankly, in utter bewilderment and wonder.

      "Is it you who are making all this noise?" said Lupin, frowning at them. "Why, I know you two; you're in the service of M. Guerchard."

      "Yes, your Grace," stammered Bonavent.

      "Well, what are you doing here? What is it you want?" said Lupin.

      "Oh, nothing, your Grace … nothing … there's been a mistake," stammered Bonavent.

      "A mistake?" said Lupin haughtily. "I should think there had been a mistake. But I take it that this is Guerchard's doing. I'd better deal with him directly. You two can go." He turned to Charolais and added curtly, "Show them out."

      Charolais opened the door, and the two detectives went out of the room with the slinking air of whipped dogs. They went down the stairs in silence, slowly, reflectively; and Charolais let them out of the front door.

      As they went down the steps Dieusy said: "What a howler! Guerchard risks getting the sack for this!"

      "I told you so," said Bonavent. "A duke's a duke."

      When the door closed behind the two detectives Lupin tottered across the room, dropped on to the couch with a groan of exhaustion, and closed his eyes. Presently the door opened, Victoire came in, saw his attitude of exhaustion, and with a startled cry ran to his side.

      "Oh, dearie! dearie!" she cried. "Pull yourself together! Oh, do try to pull yourself together." She caught his cold hands and began to rub them, murmuring words of endearment like a mother over a young child. Lupin did not open his eyes; Charolais came in.

      "Some breakfast!" she cried. "Bring his breakfast … he's faint … he's had nothing to eat this morning. Can you eat some breakfast, dearie?"

      "Yes," said Lupin faintly.

      "Hurry up with it," said Victoire in urgent, imperative tones; and Charolais left the room at a run.

      "Oh, what a life you lead!" said Victoire, or, to be exact, she wailed it. "Are you never going to change? You're as white as a sheet… . Can't you speak, dearie?"

      She stooped and lifted his legs on to the couch.

      He stretched himself, and, without opening his eyes, said in a faint voice: "Oh, Victoire, what a fright I've had!"

      "You? You've been frightened?" cried Victoire, amazed.

      "Yes. You needn't tell the others, though. But I've had a night of it … I did play the fool so … I must have been absolutely mad. Once I had changed the coronet under that fat old fool Gournay- Martin's very eyes … once you and Sonia were out of their clutches, all I had to do was to slip away. Did I? Not a hit of it! I stayed there out of sheer bravado, just to score off Guerchard… . And then I … I, who pride myself on being as cool as a cucumber … I did the one thing I ought not to have done… . Instead of going quietly away as the Duke of Charmerace … what do you think I did? … I bolted … I started running … running like a thief… . In about two seconds I saw the slip I had made. It did not take me longer; but that was too long— Guerchard's men were on my track … I was done for."

      "Then Guerchard understood—he recognized you?" said Victoire anxiously.

      "As soon as the first paralysis had passed, Guerchard dared to see clearly … to see the truth," said Lupin. "And then it was a chase. There were ten—fifteen of them on my heels. Out of breath— grunting, furious—a mob—a regular mob. I had passed the night before in a motor-car. I was dead beat. In fact, I was done for before I started … and they were gaining ground all the time."

      "Why didn't you hide?" said Victoire.

      "For a long while they were too close. They must have been within five feet of me. I was done. Then I was crossing one of the bridges… . There was the Seine … handy … I made up my mind that, rather than be taken, I'd make an end of it … I'd throw myself over."

      "Good Lord!—and then?" cried Victoire.

      "Then I had a revulsion of feeling. At any rate, I'd stick it out to the end. I gave myself another minute… one more minute—the last, and I had my revolver on me… but during that minute I put forth every ounce of strength I had left … I began to gain ground … I had them pretty well strung out already … they were blown too. The knowledge gave me back my courage, and I plugged on … my feet did not feel so much as though they were made of lead. I began to run away from them … they were dropping behind … all of them but one … he stuck to me. We went at a jog- trot, a slow jog-trot, for I don't know how long. Then we dropped to a walk—we could run no more; and on we went. My strength and wind began to come back. I suppose my pursuer's did too; for exactly what I expected happened. He gave a yell and dashed for me. I was ready for him. I pretended to start running, and when he was within three yards of me I dropped on one knee, caught his ankles, and chucked him over my head. I don't know whether he broke his neck or not. I hope he did."

      "Splendid!" said Victoire. "Splendid!"

      "Well, there I was, outside Paris, and I'm hanged if I know where. I went on half a mile, and then I rested. Oh, how sleepy I was! I would have given a hundred thousand francs for an hour's sleep— cheerfully. But I dared not let myself sleep. I had to get back here unseen. There were you and Sonia."

      "Sonia? Another woman?" cried Victoire. "Oh, it's then that I'm frightened … when you get a woman mixed up in your game. Always, when you come to grief … when you really get into danger, there's a woman in it."

      "Oh, but she's charming!" protested Lupin.

      "They always are," said Victoire drily. "But go on. Tell me how you got here."

      "Well, I knew it was going to be a tough job, so I took a good rest- -an hour, I should think. And then I started to walk back. I found that I had come a devil of a way—I must have gone at Marathon pace. I walked and walked, and at last I got into Paris, and found myself with still a couple of miles to go. It was all right now; I should soon find a cab. But the luck was dead against me. I heard a man come round the corner of a side-street into a long street I was walking down. He gave a yell, and came bucketing after me. It was that hound Dieusy. He had recognized my figure. Off I went; and the chase began again. I led him a dance, but I couldn't shake him off. All the while I was working my way towards home. Then, just at last, I spurted for all I was worth, got out of his sight, bolted round the corner of the street into the secret entrance, and here I am." He smiled weakly, and added, "Oh, my dear Victoire, what a profession it is!"

      Chapter 21 THE CUTTING OF THE TELEPHONE WIRES

      The door opened, and in came Charolais, bearing a tray.

      "Here's your breakfast, master," he said.

      "Don't call me master—that's how his men address Guerchard. It's a disgusting practice," said Lupin severely.

      Victoire and Charolais were quick laying the table. Charolais kept up a running fire of questions as he did it; but Lupin did not trouble to answer them. He lay back, relaxed, drawing deep breaths. Already his lips had lost their greyness, and were pink; there was a suggestion of blood under the skin of his pale face. They soon had the table laid; and he walked to it on fairly steady feet. He sat down; Charolais whipped off a cover, and said:

      "Anyhow, you've got out of the mess neatly. It was a jolly smart escape."

      "Oh, yes. So far it's all right," said Lupin. "But there's going to be trouble presently—lots of it. I shall want all my wits. We all shall."

      He