"LUPIN."

True enough, on the day after the publication of the cable, a stranger

rang at Mme. Dugrival's door and handed her an envelope. The envelope

contained fifty thousand-franc notes.

This theatrical stroke was not at all calculated to allay the universal

comment. But an event soon occurred which provided any amount of

additional excitement. Two days later, the people living in the same

house as Mme. Dugrival and her nephew were awakened, at four o'clock in

the morning, by horrible cries and shrill calls for help. They rushed to

the flat. The porter succeeded in opening the door. By the light of a

lantern carried by one of the neighbours, he found Gabriel stretched at

full-length in his bedroom, with his wrists and ankles bound and a gag

forced into his mouth, while, in the next room, Mme. Dugrival lay with

her life's blood ebbing away through a great gash in her breast.

She whispered:

"The money.... I've been robbed.... All the notes gone...."

And she fainted away.

What had happened? Gabriel said--and, as soon as she was able to speak,

Mme. Dugrival completed her nephew's story--that he was startled from

his sleep by finding himself attacked by two men, one of whom gagged

him, while the other fastened him down. He was unable to see the men in

the dark, but he heard the noise of the struggle between them and his

aunt. It was a terrible struggle, Mme. Dugrival declared. The ruffians,

who obviously knew their way about, guided by some intuition, made

straight for the little cupboard containing the money and, in spite of

her resistance and outcries, laid hands upon the bundle of bank-notes.

As they left, one of them, whom she had bitten in the arm, stabbed her

with a knife, whereupon the men had both fled.

"Which way?" she was asked.

"Through the door of my bedroom and afterward, I suppose, through the

hall-door."

"Impossible! The porter would have noticed them."

For the whole mystery lay in this: how had the ruffians entered the

house and how did they manage to leave it? There was no outlet open to

them. Was it one of the tenants? A careful inquiry proved the absurdity

of such a supposition.

What then?

Chief-inspector Ganimard, who was placed in special charge of the case,

confessed that he had never known anything more bewildering:

"It's very like Lupin," he said, "and yet it's not Lupin.... No, there's

more in it than meets the eye, something very doubtful and

suspicious.... Besides, if it were Lupin, why should he take back the

fifty thousand francs which he sent? There's another question that

puzzles me: what is the connection between the second robbery and the

first, the one on the race-course? The whole thing is incomprehensible

and I have a sort of feeling--which is very rare with me--that it is no

use hunting. For my part, I give it up."

The examining-magistrate threw himself into the case with heart and

soul. The reporters united their efforts with those of the police. A

famous English sleuth-hound crossed the Channel. A wealthy American,

whose head had been turned by detective-stories, offered a big reward to

whosoever should supply the first information leading to the discovery

of the truth. Six weeks later, no one was any the wiser. The public

adopted Ganimard's view; and the examining-magistrate himself grew tired

of struggling in a darkness which only became denser as time went on.

And life continued as usual with Dugrival's widow. Nursed by her nephew,

she soon recovered from her wound. In the mornings, Gabriel settled her

in an easy-chair at the dining-room window, did the rooms and then went

out marketing. He cooked their lunch without even accepting the

proffered assistance of the porter's wife.

Worried by the police investigations and especially by the requests for

interviews, the aunt and nephew refused to see anybody. Not even the

portress, whose chatter disturbed and wearied Mme. Dugrival, was

admitted. She fell back upon Gabriel, whom she accosted each time that

he passed her room:

"Take care, M. Gabriel, you're both of you being spied upon. There are

men watching you. Why, only last night, my husband caught a fellow

staring up at your windows."

"Nonsense!" said Gabriel. "It's all right. That's the police, protecting

us."

One afternoon, at about four o'clock, there was a violent altercation

between two costermongers at the bottom of the street. The porter's wife

at once left her room to listen to the invectives which the adversaries

were hurling at each other's heads. Her back was no sooner turned than

a man, young, of medium height and dressed in a grey suit of

irreproachable cut, slipped into the house and ran up the staircase.

When he came to the third floor, he rang the bell. Receiving no answer,

he rang again. At the third summons, the door opened.

"Mme. Dugrival?" he asked, taking off his hat.

"Mme. Dugrival is still an invalid and unable to see any one," said

Gabriel, who stood in the hall.

"It's most important that I should speak to her."

"I am her nephew and perhaps I could take her a message...."

"Very well," said the man. "Please tell Mme. Dugrival that an accident

has supplied me with valuable information concerning the robbery from

which she has suffered and that I should like to go over the flat and

ascertain certain particulars for myself. I am accustomed to this sort

of inquiry; and my call is sure to be of use to her."

Gabriel examined the visitor for a moment, reflected and said:

"In that case, I suppose my aunt will consent ... Pray come in."

He opened the door of the dining-room and stepped back to allow the

other to pass. The stranger walked to the threshold, but, at the moment

when he was crossing it, Gabriel raised his arm and, with a swift

movement, struck him with a dagger over the right shoulder.

A burst of laughter rang through the room:

"Got him!" cried Mme. Dugrival, darting up from her chair. "Well done,

Gabriel! But, I say, you haven't killed the scoundrel, have you?"

"I don't think so, aunt. It's a small blade and I didn't strike him too

hard."

The man was staggering, with his hands stretched in front of him and his

face deathly pale.

"You fool!" sneered the widow. "So you've fallen into the trap ... and a

good job too! We've been looking out for you a long time. Come, my fine

fellow, down with you! You don't care about it, do you? But you can't

help yourself, you see. That's right: one knee on the ground, before the

missus ... now the other knee.... How well we've been brought up!...

Crash, there we go on the floor! Lord, if my poor Dugrival could only

see him like that!... And now, Gabriel, to work!"

She went to her bedroom and opened one of the doors of a hanging

wardrobe filled with dresses. Pulling these aside, she pushed open

another door which formed the back of the wardrobe and led to a room in

the next house:

"Help me carry him, Gabriel. And you'll nurse him as well as you can,

won't you? For the present, he's worth his weight in gold to us, the

artist!..."

* * * * *

The hours succeeded one another. Days passed.

One morning, the wounded man regained a moment's consciousness. He

raised his eyelids and looked around him.

He was lying in a room larger than that in which he had been stabbed, a

room sparsely furnished, with thick curtains hanging before the windows

from top to bottom. There was light enough, however, to enable him to

see young Gabriel Dugrival seated on a chair beside him and watching

him.

"Ah, it's you, youngster!" he murmured. "I congratulate you, my lad. You

have a sure and pretty touch with the dagger."

And he fell asleep again.

That day and the following days, he woke up several times and, each

time, he saw the stripling's pale face, his thin lips and his dark eyes,

with the hard look in them:

"You frighten me," he said. "If you have sworn to do for me, don't stand

on ceremony. But cheer up, for goodness' sake. The thought of death has

always struck me as the most humorous thing in the world. Whereas, with

you, old chap, it simply becomes lugubrious. I prefer to go to sleep.

Good-night!"

Still, Gabriel, in obedience to Mme. Dugrival's orders, continued to

nurse him with the utmost care and attention. The patient was almost

free from fever and was beginning to take beef-tea and milk. He gained a

little strength and jested:

"When will the convalescent be allowed his first drive? Is the

bath-chair there? Why, cheer up, stupid! You look like a weeping-willow

contemplating a crime. Come, just one little smile for daddy!"

One day, on waking, he had a very unpleasant feeling of constraint.

After a few efforts, he perceived that, during his sleep, his legs,

chest and arms had been fastened to the bedstead with thin wire strands

that cut into his flesh at the least movements.

"Ah," he said to his keeper, "this time it's the great performance! The

chicken's going to be bled. Are you operating, Angel Gabriel? If so, see

that your razor's nice and clean, old chap! The antiseptic treatment,

_if_ you please!"

But he was interrupted by the sound of a key grating in the lock. The

door opposite opened and Mme. Dugrival appeared.

She approached slowly, took a chair and, producing a revolver from her

pocket, cocked it and laid it on the table by the bedside.

"Brrrrr!" said the prisoner. "We might be at the Ambigu!... Fourth act:

the Traitor's Doom. And the fair sex to do the deed.... The hand of the

Graces.... What an honour!... Mme. Dugrival, I rely on you not to

disfigure me."

"Hold your tongue, Lupin."

"Ah, so you know?... By Jove, how clever we are!"

"Hold your tongue, Lupin."

There was a solemn note in her voice that impressed the captive and

compelled him to silence. He watched his two gaolers in turns. The

bloated features and red complexion of Mme. Dugrival formed a striking

contrast with her nephew's refined face; but they both wore the same air

of implacable resolve.

The widow leant forward and said:

"Are you prepared to answer my questions?"

"Why not?"

"Then listen to me. How did you know that Dugrival carried all his money

in his pocket?"

"Servants' gossip...."

"A young man-servant whom we had in our employ: was that it?"

"Yes."

"And did you steal Dugrival's watch in order to give it back to him and

inspire him with confidence?"

"Yes."

She suppressed a movement of fury:

"You fool! You fool!... What! You rob my man, you drive him to kill

himself and, instead of making tracks to the uttermost ends of the earth

and hiding yourself, you go on playing Lupin in the heart of Paris!...

Did you forget that I swore, on my dead husband's head, to find his

murderer?"

"That's what staggers me," said Lupin. "How did you come to suspect me?"

"How? Why, you gave yourself away!"

"I did?..."

"Of course.... The fifty thousand francs...."

"Well, what about it? A present...."

"Yes, a present which you gave cabled instructions to have sent to me,

so as to make believe that you were in America on the day of the races.

A present, indeed! What humbug! The fact is, you didn't like to think of

the poor fellow whom you had murdered. So you restored the money to the

widow, publicly, of course, because you love playing to the gallery and

ranting and posing, like the mountebank that you are. That was all very

nicely thought out. Only, my fine fellow, you ought not to have sent me

the selfsame notes that were stolen from Dugrival! Yes, you silly fool,

the selfsame notes and no others! We knew the numbers, Dugrival and I

did. And you were stupid enough to send the bundle to me. Now do you

understand your folly?"

Lupin began to laugh:

"It was a pretty blunder, I confess. I'm not responsible; I gave

different orders. But, all the same I can't blame any one except

myself."

"Ah, so you admit it! You signed your theft and you signed your ruin at

the same time. There was nothing left to be done but to find you. Find

you? No, better than that. Sensible people don't find Lupin: they make

him come to them! That was a masterly notion. It belongs to my young

nephew, who loathes you as much as I do, if possible, and who knows you

thoroughly, through reading all the books that have been written about

you. He knows your prying nature, your need to be always plotting, your

mania for hunting in the dark and unravelling what others have failed to

unravel. He also knows that sort of sham kindness of yours, the

drivelling sentimentality that makes you shed crocodile tears over the

people you victimize; And he planned the whole farce! He invented the

story of the two burglars, the second theft of fifty thousand francs!

Oh, I swear to you, before Heaven, that the stab which I gave myself

with my own hands never hurt me! And I swear to you, before Heaven, that

we spent a glorious time waiting for you, the boy and I, peeping out at

your confederates who prowled under our windows, taking their bearings!

And there was no mistake about it: you were bound to come! Seeing that

you had restored the Widow Dugrival's fifty thousand francs, it was out

of the question that you should allow the Widow Dugrival to be robbed of

her fifty thousand francs! You were bound to come, attracted by the

scent of the mystery. You were bound to come, for swagger, out of

vanity! And you come!"

The widow gave a strident laugh:

"Well played, wasn't it? The Lupin of Lupins, the master of masters,

inaccessible and invisible, caught in a trap by a woman and a boy!...

Here he is in flesh and bone ... here he is with hands and feet tied, no

more dangerous than a sparrow ... here is he ... here he is!..."

She shook with joy and began to pace the room, throwing sidelong glances

at the bed, like a wild beast that does not for a moment take its eyes

from its victim. And never had Lupin beheld greater hatred and savagery

in any human being.

"Enough of this prattle," she said.

Suddenly restraining herself, she stalked back to him and, in a quite

different tone, in a hollow voice, laying stress on every syllable:

"Thanks to the papers in your pocket, Lupin, I have made good use of the

last twelve days. I know all your affairs, all your schemes, all your

assumed names, all the organization of your band, all the lodgings which

you possess in Paris and elsewhere. I have even visited one of them, the

most secret, the one where you hide your papers, your ledgers and the

whole story of your financial operations. The result of my

investigations is very satisfactory. Here are four cheques, taken from

four cheque-books and corresponding with four accounts which you keep at

four different banks under four different names. I have filled in each

of them for ten thousand francs. A larger figure would have been too

risky. And, now, sign."

"By Jove!" said Lupin, sarcastically. "This is blackmail, my worthy Mme.

Dugrival."

"That takes your breath away, what?"

"It takes my breath away, as you say."

"And you find an adversary who is a match for you?"

"The adversary is far beyond me. So the trap--let us call it

infernal--the infernal trap into which I have fallen was laid not merely

by a widow thirsting for revenge, but also by a first-rate business

woman anxious to increase her capital?"

"Just so."

"My congratulations. And, while I think of it, used M. Dugrival perhaps

to ...?"

"You have hit it, Lupin. After all, why conceal the fact? It will

relieve your conscience. Yes, Lupin, Dugrival used to work on the same

lines as yourself. Oh, not on the same scale!... We were modest people:

a louis here, a louis there ... a purse or two which we trained Gabriel

to pick up at the races.... And, in this way, we had made our little

pile ... just enough to buy a small place in the country."

"I prefer it that way," said Lupin.

"That's all right! I'm only telling you, so that you may know that I am

not a beginner and that you have nothing to hope for. A rescue? No. The

room in which we now are communicates with my bedroom. It has a private

outlet of which nobody knows. It was Dugrival's special apartment. He

used to see his friends here. He kept his implements and tools here, his

disguises ... his telephone even, as you perceive. So there's no hope,

you see. Your accomplices have given up looking for you here. I have

sent them off on another track. Your goose is cooked. Do you begin to

realize the position?"

"Yes."

"Then sign the cheques."

"And, when I have signed them, shall I be free?"

"I must cash them first."

"And after that?"

"After that, on my soul, as I hope to be saved, you will be free."

"I don't trust you."

"Have you any choice?"

"That's true. Hand me the cheques."

She unfastened Lupin's right hand, gave him a pen and said:

"Don't forget that the four cheques require four different signatures

and that the handwriting has to be altered in each case."

"Never fear."

He signed the cheques.

"Gabriel," said the widow, "it is ten o'clock. If I am not back by

twelve, it will mean that this scoundrel has played me one of his

tricks. At twelve o'clock, blow out his brains. I am leaving you the

revolver with which your uncle shot himself. There are five bullets left

out of the six. That will be ample."

She left the room, humming a tune as she went.

Lupin mumbled:

"I wouldn't give twopence for my life."

He shut his eyes for an instant and then, suddenly, said to Gabriel:

"How much?"

And, when the other did not appear to understand, he grew irritated:

"I mean what I say. How much? Answer me, can't you? We drive the same

trade, you and I. I steal, thou stealest, we steal. So we ought to come

to terms: that's what we are here for. Well? Is it a bargain? Shall we

clear out together. I will give you a post in my gang, an easy,

well-paid post. How much do you want for yourself? Ten thousand? Twenty

thousand? Fix your own price; don't be shy. There's plenty to be had for

the asking."

An angry shiver passed through his frame as he saw the impassive face of

his keeper:

"Oh, the beggar won't even answer! Why, you can't have been so fond of

old Dugrival as all that! Listen to me: if you consent to release

me...."

But he interrupted himself. The young man's eyes wore the cruel

expression which he knew so well. What was the use of trying to move

him?

"Hang it all!" he snarled. "I'm not going to croak here, like a dog! Oh,

if I could only...."

Stiffening all his muscles, he tried to burst his bonds, making a

violent effort that drew a cry of pain from him; and he fell back upon

his bed, exhausted.

"Well, well," he muttered, after a moment, "it's as the widow said: my

goose is cooked. Nothing to be done. _De profundis_, Lupin."

A quarter of an hour passed, half an hour....

Gabriel, moving closer to Lupin, saw that his eyes were shut and that

his breath came evenly, like that of a man sleeping. But Lupin said:

"Don't imagine that I'm asleep, youngster. No, people don't sleep at a

moment like this. Only I am consoling myself. Needs must, eh?... And

then I am thinking of what is to come after.... Exactly. I have a little

theory of my own about that. You wouldn't think it, to look at me, but I

believe in metempsychosis, in the transmigration of souls. It would take

too long to explain, however.... I say, boy ... suppose we shook hands

before we part? You won't? Then good-bye. Good health and a long life to

you, Gabriel!..."

He closed his eyelids and did not stir again before Mme. Dugrival's

return.

The widow entered with a lively step, at a few minutes before twelve.

She seemed greatly excited:

"I have the money," she said to her nephew. "Run away. I'll join you in

the motor down below."

"But...."

"I don't want your help to finish him off. I can do that alone. Still,

if you feel like seeing the sort of a face a rogue can pull.... Pass me

the weapon."

Gabriel handed her the revolver and the widow continued:

"Have you burnt our papers?"

"Yes."

"Then to work. And, as soon as he's done for, be off. The shots may

bring the neighbours. They must find both the flats empty."

She went up to the bed:

"Are you ready, Lupin?"

"Ready's not the word: I'm burning with impatience."

"Have you any request to make of me?"

"None."

"Then...."

"One word, though."

"What is it?"

"If I meet Dugrival in the next world, what message am I to give him

from you?"

She shrugged her shoulders and put the barrel of the revolver to Lupin's

temple.

"That's it," he said, "and be sure your hand doesn't shake, my dear

lady. It won't hurt you, I swear. Are you ready? At the word of command,

eh? One ... two ... three...."

The widow pulled the trigger. A shot rang out.

"Is this death?" said Lupin. "That's funny! I should have thought it was

something much more different from life!"

There was a second shot. Gabriel snatched the weapon from his aunt's

hands and examined it:

"Ah," he exclaimed, "the bullets have been removed!... There are only

the percussion-caps left!..."

His aunt and he stood motionless, for a moment, and confused:

"Impossible!" she blurted out. "Who could have done it?... An

inspector?... The examining-magistrate?..."

She stopped and, in a low voice:

"Hark.... I hear a noise...."

They listened and the widow went into the hall. She returned, furious,

exasperated by her failure and by the scare which she had received:

"There's nobody there.... It must have been the neighbours going out....

We have plenty of time.... Ah, Lupin, you were beginning to make

merry!... The knife, Gabriel."

"It's in my room."

"Go and fetch it."

Gabriel hurried away. The widow stamped with rage:

"I've sworn to do it!... You've got to suffer, my fine fellow!... I

swore to Dugrival that I would do it and I have repeated my oath every

morning and evening since.... I have taken it on my knees, yes, on my

knees, before Heaven that listens to me! It's my duty and my right to

revenge my dead husband!... By the way, Lupin, you don't look quite as

merry as you did!... Lord, one would almost think you were afraid!...

He's afraid! He's afraid! I can see it in his eyes!... Come along,

Gabriel, my boy!... Look at his eyes!... Look at his lips!... He's

trembling!... Give me the knife, so that I may dig it into his heart

while he's shivering.... Oh, you coward!... Quick, quick, Gabriel, the

knife!..."

"I can't find it anywhere," said the young man, running back in dismay.

"It has gone from my room! I can't make it out!"

"Never mind!" cried the Widow Dugrival, half demented. "All the better!

I will do the business myself."

She seized Lupin by the throat, clutched him with her ten fingers,

digging her nails into his flesh, and began to squeeze with all her

might. Lupin uttered a hoarse rattle and gave himself up for lost.

Suddenly, there was a crash at the window. One of the panes was smashed

to pieces.

"What's that? What is it?" stammered the widow, drawing herself erect,

in alarm.

Gabriel, who had turned even paler than usual, murmured:

"I don't know.... I can't think...."

"Who can have done it?" said the widow.

She dared not move, waiting for what would come next. And one thing

above all terrified her, the fact that there was no missile on the floor

around them, although the pane of glass, as was clearly visible, had

given way before the crash of a heavy and fairly large object, a stone,

probably.

After a while, she looked under the bed, under the chest of drawers:

"Nothing," she said.

"No," said her nephew, who was also looking. And, resuming her seat, she

said:

"I feel frightened ... my arms fail me ... you finish him off...."

Gabriel confessed:

"I'm frightened also."

"Still ... still," she stammered, "it's got to be done.... I swore

it...."

Making one last effort, she returned to Lupin and gasped his neck with

her stiff fingers. But Lupin, who was watching her pallid face, received

a very clear sensation that she would not have the courage to kill him.

To her he was becoming something sacred, invulnerable. A mysterious

power was protecting him against every attack, a power which had already

saved him three times by inexplicable means and which would find other

means to protect him against the wiles of death.

She said to him, in a hoarse voice:

"How you must be laughing at me!"

"Not at all, upon my word. I should feel frightened myself, in your

place."

"Nonsense, you scum of the earth! You imagine that you will be rescued

... that your friends are waiting outside? It's out of the question, my

fine fellow."

"I know. It's not they defending me ... nobody's defending me...."

"Well, then?..."

"Well, all the same, there's something strange at the bottom of it,

something fantastic and miraculous that makes your flesh creep, my fine

lady."