The Extraordinary Adventures of Arsène Lupin, Gentleman-Burglar Maurice Leblanc (ebook reader ink TXT) 📖

the baron is a subscriber, and let said editor understand that such person is the celebrated detective⁠—then, what will happen?”

“The editor will announce in the Réveil the presence in Caudebec of said detective.”

“Exactly; and one of two things will happen: either the fish⁠—I mean Cahorn⁠—will not bite, and nothing will happen; or, what is more likely, he will run and greedily swallow the bait. Thus, behold my Baron Cahorn imploring the assistance of one of my friends against me.”

“Original, indeed!”

“Of course, the pseudo-detective at first refuses to give any assistance. On top of that comes the telegram from Arsène Lupin. The frightened baron rushes once more to my friend and offers him a definite sum of money for his services. My friend accepts and summons two members of our band, who, during the night, whilst Cahorn is under the watchful eye of his protector, removes certain articles by way of the window and lowers them with ropes into a nice little launch chartered for the occasion. Simple, isn’t it?”

“Marvelous! Marvelous!” exclaimed Ganimard. “The boldness of the scheme and the ingenuity of all its details are beyond criticism. But who is the detective whose name and fame served as a magnet to attract the baron and draw him into your net?”

“There is only one name could do it⁠—only one.”

“And that is?”

“Arsène Lupin’s personal enemy⁠—the most illustrious Ganimard.”

“I?”

“Yourself, Ganimard. And, really, it is very funny. If you go there, and the baron decides to talk, you will find that it will be your duty to arrest yourself, just as you arrested me in America. Hein! the revenge is really amusing: I cause Ganimard to arrest Ganimard.”

Arsène Lupin laughed heartily. The detective, greatly vexed, bit his lips; to him the joke was quite devoid of humor. The arrival of a prison guard gave Ganimard an opportunity to recover himself. The man brought Arsène Lupin’s luncheon, furnished by a neighboring restaurant. After depositing the tray upon the table, the guard retired. Lupin broke his bread, ate a few morsels, and continued:

“But, rest easy, my dear Ganimard, you will not go to Malaquis. I can tell you something that will astonish you: the Cahorn affair is on the point of being settled.”

“Excuse me; I have just seen the Chief of the Sûreté.”

“What of that? Does Mon. Dudouis know my business better than I do myself? You will learn that Ganimard⁠—excuse me⁠—that the pseudo-Ganimard still remains on very good terms with the baron. The latter has authorized him to negotiate a very delicate transaction with me, and, at the present moment, in consideration of a certain sum, it is probable that the baron has recovered possession of his pictures and other treasures. And on their return, he will withdraw his complaint. Thus, there is no longer any theft, and the law must abandon the case.”

Ganimard regarded the prisoner with a bewildered air.

“And how do you know all that?”

“I have just received the telegram I was expecting.”

“You have just received a telegram?”

“This very moment, my dear friend. Out of politeness, I did not wish to read it in your presence. But if you will permit me⁠—”

“You are joking, Lupin.”

“My dear friend, if you will be so kind as to break that egg, you will learn for yourself that I am not joking.”

Mechanically, Ganimard obeyed, and cracked the eggshell with the blade of a knife. He uttered a cry of surprise. The shell contained nothing but a small piece of blue paper. At the request of Arsène he unfolded it. It was a telegram, or rather a portion of a telegram from which the postmarks had been removed. It read as follows:

“Contract closed. Hundred thousand balls delivered. All well.”

“One hundred thousand balls?” said Ganimard.

“Yes, one hundred thousand francs. Very little, but then, you know, these are hard times.⁠ ⁠… And I have some heavy bills to meet. If you only knew my budget⁠ ⁠… living in the city comes very high.”

Ganimard arose. His ill humor had disappeared. He reflected for a moment, glancing over the whole affair in an effort to discover a weak point; then, in a tone and manner that betrayed his admiration of the prisoner, he said:

“Fortunately, we do not have a dozen such as you to deal with; if we did, we would have to close up shop.”

Arsène Lupin assumed a modest air, as he replied:

“Bah! a person must have some diversion to occupy his leisure hours, especially when he is in prison.”

“What!” exclaimed Ganimard, “your trial, your defense, the examination⁠—isn’t that sufficient to occupy your mind?”

“No, because I have decided not to be present at my trial.”

“Oh! oh!”

Arsène Lupin repeated, positively:

“I shall not be present at my trial.”

“Really!”

“Ah! my dear monsieur, do you suppose I am going to rot upon the wet straw? You insult me. Arsène Lupin remains in prison just as long as it pleases him, and not one minute more.”

“Perhaps it would have been more prudent if you had avoided getting there,” said the detective, ironically.

“Ah! monsieur jests? Monsieur must remember that he had the honor to effect my arrest. Know then, my worthy friend, that no one, not even you, could have placed a hand upon me if a much more important event had not occupied my attention at that critical moment.”

“You astonish me.”

“A woman was looking at me, Ganimard, and I loved her. Do you fully understand what that means: to be under the eyes of a woman that one loves? I cared for nothing in the world but that. And that is why I am here.”

“Permit me to say: you have been here a long time.”

“In the first place, I wished to forget. Do not laugh; it was a delightful adventure and it is still a tender memory. Besides, I have been suffering from neurasthenia. Life is so feverish these days that it is necessary to take the ‘rest cure’ occasionally, and I find this spot a sovereign remedy for my tired nerves.”

“Arsène Lupin, you are not a bad fellow, after all.”

“Thank you,” said Lupin.