The Confessions of Arsène Lupin Maurice Leblanc (read book TXT) 📖

yielded. Besides, you can see the mark of the file here.”

Jeanne turned pale and her pretty features were distorted with terror:

“But who can bear me such a grudge?” she gasped. “It is terrible.⁠ ⁠… I have never done anyone harm.⁠ ⁠… And yet you are certainly right.⁠ ⁠… Worse still.⁠ ⁠…”

She finished her sentence in a lower voice:

“Worse still, I am wondering whether the same danger does not threaten my father.”

“Has he been attacked also?”

“No, for he never stirs from his room. But his is such a mysterious illness!⁠ ⁠… He has no strength⁠ ⁠… he cannot walk at all.⁠ ⁠… In addition to that, he is subject to fits of suffocation, as though his heart stopped beating.⁠ ⁠… Oh, what an awful thing!”

Lupin realized all the authority which he was able to assert at such a moment, and he said:

“Have no fear, mademoiselle. If you obey me blindly, I shall be sure to succeed.”

“Yes⁠ ⁠… yes⁠ ⁠… I am quite willing⁠ ⁠… but all this is so terrible.⁠ ⁠…”

“Trust me, I beg of you. And please listen to me, I shall want a few particulars.”

He rapped out a number of questions, which Jeanne Darcieux answered hurriedly:

“That animal was never let loose, was he?”

“Never.”

“Who used to feed him?”

“The lodge-keeper. He brought him his food every evening.”

“Consequently, he could go near him without being bitten?”

“Yes; and he only, for the dog was very savage.”

“You don’t suspect the man?”

“Oh, no!⁠ ⁠… Baptiste?⁠ ⁠… Never!”

“And you can’t think of anybody?”

“No. Our servants are quite devoted to us. They are very fond of me.”

“You have no friends staying in the house?”

“No.”

“No brother?”

“No.”

“Then your father is your only protector?”

“Yes; and I have told you the condition he is in.”

“Have you told him of the different attempts?”

“Yes; and it was wrong of me to do so. Our doctor, old Dr. Guéroult, forbade me to cause him the least excitement.”

“Your mother?⁠ ⁠…”

“I don’t remember her. She died sixteen years ago⁠ ⁠… just sixteen years ago.”

“How old were you then?”

“I was not quite five years old.”

“And were you living here?”

“We were living in Paris. My father only bought this place the year after.”

Lupin was silent for a few moments. Then he concluded:

“Very well, mademoiselle, I am obliged to you. Those particulars are all I need for the present. Besides, it would not be wise for us to remain together longer.”

“But,” she said, “the lodge-keeper will find the dog soon.⁠ ⁠… Who will have killed him?”

“You, mademoiselle, to defend yourself against an attack.”

“I never carry firearms.”

“I am afraid you do,” said Lupin, smiling, “because you killed the dog and there is no one but you who could have killed him. For that matter, let them think what they please. The great thing is that I shall not be suspected when I come to the house.”

“To the house? Do you intend to?”

“Yes. I don’t yet know how⁠ ⁠… But I shall come.⁠ ⁠… This very evening.⁠ ⁠… So, once more, be easy in your mind. I will answer for everything.”

Jeanne looked at him and, dominated by him, conquered by his air of assurance and good faith, she said, simply:

“I am quite easy.”

“Then all will go well. Till this evening, mademoiselle.”

“Till this evening.”

She walked away; and Lupin, following her with his eyes until the moment when she disappeared round the corner of the house, murmured:

“What a pretty creature! It would be a pity if any harm were to come to her. Luckily, Arsène Lupin is keeping his weather-eye open.”

Taking care not to be seen, with eyes and ears attentive to the least sight or sound, he inspected every nook and corner of the grounds, looked for the little low door which he had noticed outside and which was the door of the kitchen garden, drew the bolt, took the key and then skirted the walls and found himself once more near the tree which he had climbed. Two minutes later, he was mounting his motorcycle.

The village of Maupertuis lay quite close to the estate. Lupin inquired and learnt that Dr. Guéroult lived next door to the church.

He rang, was shown into the consulting-room and introduced himself by his name of Paul Daubreuil, of the Rue de Surène, Paris, adding that he had official relations with the detective-service, a fact which he requested might be kept secret. He had become acquainted, by means of a torn letter, with the incidents that had endangered Mlle. Darcieux’s life; and he had come to that young lady’s assistance.

Dr. Guéroult, an old country practitioner, who idolized Jeanne, on hearing Lupin’s explanations at once admitted that those incidents constituted undeniable proofs of a plot. He showed great concern, offered his visitor hospitality and kept him to dinner.

The two men talked at length. In the evening, they walked round to the manor-house together.

The doctor went to the sick man’s room, which was on the first floor, and asked leave to bring up a young colleague, to whom he intended soon to make over his practice, when he retired.

Lupin, on entering, saw Jeanne Darcieux seated by her father’s bedside. She suppressed a movement of surprise and, at a sign from the doctor, left the room.

The consultation thereupon took place in Lupin’s presence. M. Darcieux’s face was worn, with much suffering and his eyes were bright with fever. He complained particularly, that day, of his heart. After the auscultation, he questioned the doctor with obvious anxiety; and each reply seemed to give him relief. He also spoke of Jeanne and expressed his conviction that they were deceiving him and that his daughter had escaped yet more accidents. He continued perturbed, in spite of the doctor’s denials. He wanted to have the police informed and inquiries set on foot.

But his excitement tired him and he gradually dropped off to sleep.

Lupin stopped the doctor in the passage:

“Come, doctor, give me your exact opinion. Do you think that M. Darcieux’s illness can be attributed to an outside cause?”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, suppose that the same enemy should be interested in removing both father and daughter.”

The doctor seemed struck by the suggestion.

“Upon my word, there is something in what you say.⁠ ⁠… The father’s illness at times adopts such