Gerbois, he said:
“I owe you an apology, mademoiselle, for all your troubles, but I hope you have not been too unhappy—”
“Unhappy! Why, I should have been very happy, indeed, if it hadn’t been for leaving my poor father.”
“Then all is for the best. Kiss him again, and take advantage of the opportunity—it is an excellent one—to speak to him about your cousin.”
“My cousin! What do you mean? I don’t understand.”
“Of course, you understand. Your cousin Philippe. The young man whose letters you kept so carefully.”
Suzanne blushed; but, following Lupin’s advice, she again threw herself into her father’s arms. Lupin gazed upon them with a tender look.
“Ah! Such is my reward for a virtuous act! What a touching picture! A happy father and a happy daughter! And to know that their joy is your work, Lupin! Hereafter these people will bless you, and reverently transmit your name unto their descendants, even unto the fourth generation. What a glorious reward, Lupin, for one act of kindness!”
He walked to the window.
“Is dear old Ganimard still waiting?… He would like very much to be present at this charming domestic scene!… Ah! he is not there.… Nor any of the others.… I don’t see anyone. The deuce! The situation is becoming serious. I dare say they are already under the porte-cochere…talking to the concierge, perhaps…or, even, ascending the stairs!”
Mon. Gerbois made a sudden movement. Now, that his daughter had been restored to him, he saw the situation in a different light. To him, the arrest of his adversary meant half-a-million francs. Instinctively, he made a step forward. As if by chance, Lupin stood in his way.
“Where are you going, Monsieur Gerbois! To defend me against them! That is very kind of you, but I assure you it is not necessary. They are more worried than I.”
Then he continued to speak, with calm deliberation:
“But, really, what do they know! That you are here, and, perhaps, that Mlle. Gerbois is here, for they may have seen her arrive with an unknown lady. But they do not imagine that I am here. How is it possible that I could be in a house that they ran-sacked from cellar to garret this morning! They suppose that the unknown lady was sent by me to make the exchange, and they will be ready to arrest her when she goes out—”
At that moment, the bell rang. With a brusque movement, Lupin seized Mon. Gerbois, and said to him, in an imperious tone:
“Do not move! Remember your daughter, and be prudent—otherwise—As to you, Monsieur Detinan, I have your promise.”
Mon. Gerbois was rooted to the spot. The lawyer did not stir. Without the least sign of haste, Lupin picked up his hat and brushed the dust from off it with his sleeve.
“My dear Monsieur Detinan, if I can ever be of service to you.… My best wishes, Mademoiselle Suzanne, and my kind regards to Monsieur Philippe.”
He drew a heavy gold watch from his pocket.
“Monsieur Gerbois, it is now forty-two minutes past three. At forty-six minutes past three, I give you permission to leave this room. Not one minute sooner than forty-six minutes past three.”
“But they will force an entrance,” suggested Mon. Detinan.
“You forget the law, my dear monsieur! Ganimard would never venture to violate the privacy of a French citizen. But, pardon me, time flies, and you are all slightly nervous.”
He placed his watch on the table, opened the door of the room and addressing the blonde lady he said:
“Are you ready my dear?”
He drew back to let her pass, bowed respectfully to Mlle. Gerbois, and went out, closing the door behind him. Then they heard him in the vestibule, speaking, in a loud voice: “Good-day, Ganimard, how goes it? Remember me to Madame Ganimard. One of these days, I shall invite her to breakfast. Au revoir, Ganimard.”
The bell rang violently, followed by repeated rings, and voices on the landing.
“Forty-five minutes,” muttered Mon. Gerbois.
After a few seconds, he left the room and stepped into the vestibule. Arsène Lupin and the blonde lady had gone.
“Papa!…you mustn’t! Wait!” cried Suzanne.
“Wait! you are foolish!… No quarter for that rascal!… And the half-million?”
He opened the outer door. Ganimard rushed in.
“That woman—where is she? And Lupin?”
“He was here…he is here.”
Ganimard uttered a cry of triumph.
“We have him. The house is surrounded.”
“But the servant’s stairway?” suggested Mon. Detinan.
“It leads to the court,” said Ganimard. “There is only one exit—the street-door. Ten men are guarding it.”
“But he didn’t come in by the street-door, and he will not go out that way.”
“What way, then?” asked Ganimard. “Through the air?”
He drew aside a curtain and exposed a long corridor leading to the kitchen. Ganimard ran along it and tried the door of the servants’ stairway. It was locked. From the window he called to one of his assistants:
“Seen anyone?”
“No.”
“Then they are still in the house!” he exclaimed. “They are hiding in one of the rooms! They cannot have escaped. Ah! Lupin, you fooled me before, but, this time, I get my revenge.”
* * * *
At seven o’clock in the evening, Mon. Dudonis, chief of the detective service, astonished at not receiving any news, visited the rue Clapeyron. He questioned the detectives who were guarding the house, then ascended to Mon. Detinan’s apartment. The lawyer led him into his room. There, Mon. Dudonis beheld a man, or rather two legs kicking in the air, while the body to which they belonged was hidden in the depths of the chimney.
“Ohé!… Ohé!” gasped a stifled voice. And a more distant voice, from on high, replied:
“Ohé!… Ohé!”
Mon. Dudonis laughed, and exclaimed:
“Here! Ganimard, have you turned chimney-sweep?”
The detective crawled out of the chimney. With his blackened face, his sooty clothes, and his feverish eyes, he was quite unrecognizable.
“I am looking for him,” he growled.
“Who?”
“Arsène Lupin…and his friend.”
“Well, do you suppose they are hiding in the chimney?”
Ganimard arose, laid his sooty hand on the sleeve of his superior officer’s coat, and exclaimed, angrily:
“Where do you think they are, chief? They must be somewhere! They are flesh and blood like you and me, and can’t fade away like smoke.”
“No, but they have faded away just the same.”
“But how? How? The house is surrounded by our men—even on the roof.”
“What about the adjoining house?”
“There’s no communication with it.”
“And the apartments on the other floors?”
“I know all the tenants. They have not seen anyone.”
“Are you sure you know all of them?”
“Yes. The concierge answers for them. Besides, as an extra precaution,