Arsène Lupin by Maurice Leblanc (literature books to read .txt) 📕

said Lupin, with a sudden air of doubt; and he looked sharply from Guerchard to the clock.

“I undertake to do it,” said Guerchard confidently.

“But how?” said Lupin, looking at him with an expression of the gravest doubt.

“Oh, I’ll put the thefts on your shoulders. That will let her out all right,” said Guerchard.

“I’ve certainly good broad shoulders,” said Lupin, with a bitter smile. He walked slowly up and down with an air that grew more and more depressed: it was almost the air of a beaten man. Then he stopped and faced Guerchard, and said: “And what is it you want in exchange?”

“Everything,” said Guerchard, with the air of a man who is winning. “You must give me back the pictures, tapestry, Renaissance cabinets, the coronet, and all the information about the death of the Duke of Charmerace. Did you kill him?”

“If ever I commit suicide, you’ll know all about it, my good Guerchard. You’ll be there. You may even join me,” said Lupin grimly; he resumed his pacing up and down the room.

“Done for, yes; I shall be done for,” he said presently. “The fact is, you want my skin.”

“Yes, I want your skin,” said Guerchard, in a low, savage, vindictive tone.

“My skin,” said Lupin thoughtfully.

“Are you going to do it? Think of that girl,” said Guerchard, in a fresh access of uneasy anxiety.

Lupin laughed: “I can give you a glass of port,” he said, “but I’m afraid that’s all I can do for you.”

“I’ll throw Victoire in,” said Guerchard.

“What?” cried Lupin. “You’ve arrested Victoire?” There was a ring of utter dismay, almost despair, in his tone.

“Yes; and I’ll throw her in. She shall go scot-free. I won’t bother with her,” said Guerchard eagerly.

The front-door bell rang.

“Wait, wait. Let me think,” said Lupin hoarsely; and he strove to adjust his jostling ideas, to meet with a fresh plan this fresh disaster.

He stood listening with all his ears. There were footsteps on the stairs, and the door opened. Dieusy stood on the threshold.

“Who is it?” said Guerchard.

“I accept—I accept everything,” cried Lupin in a frantic tone.

“It’s a tradesman; am I to detain him?” said Dieusy. “You told me to let you know who came and take instructions.”

“A tradesman? Then I refuse!” cried Lupin, in an ecstasy of relief.

“No, you needn’t keep him,” said Guerchard, to Dieusy.

Dieusy went out and shut the door.

“You refuse?” said Guerchard.

“I refuse,” said Lupin.

“I’m going to gaol that girl,” said Guerchard savagely; and he took a step towards the door.

“Not for long,” said Lupin quietly. “You have no proof.”

“She’ll furnish the proof all right herself—plenty of proofs,” said Guerchard brutally. “What chance has a silly child like that got, when we really start questioning her? A delicate creature like that will crumple up before the end of the third day’s cross-examination.”

“You swine!” said Lupin. “You know well enough that I can do it—on my head—with a feeble child like that; and you know your Code; five years is the minimum,” said Guerchard, in a tone of relentless brutality, watching him carefully, sticking to his hope.

“By Jove, I could wring your neck!” said Lupin, trembling with fury. By a violent effort he controlled himself, and said thoughtfully, “After all, if I give up everything to you, I shall be free to take it back one of these days.”

“Oh, no doubt, when you come out of prison,” said Guerchard ironically; and he laughed a grim, jeering laugh.

“I’ve got to go to prison first,” said Lupin quietly.

“Pardon me—if you accept, I mean to arrest you,” said Guerchard.

“Manifestly you’ll arrest me if you can,” said Lupin.

“Do you accept?” said Guerchard. And again his voice quivered with anxiety.

“Well,” said Lupin. And he paused as if finally weighing the matter.

“Well?” said Guerchard, and his voice shook.

“Well—no!” said Lupin; and he laughed a mocking laugh.

“You won’t?” said Guerchard between his teeth.

“No; you wish to catch me. This is just a ruse,” said Lupin, in quiet, measured tones. “At bottom you don’t care a hang about Sonia, Mademoiselle Kritchnoff. You will not arrest her. And then, if you did you have no proofs. There ARE no proofs. As for the pendant, you’d have to prove it. You can’t prove it. You can’t prove that it was in her possession one moment. Where is the pendant?” He paused, and then went on in the same quiet tone: “No, Guerchard; after having kept out of your clutches for the last ten years, I’m not going to be caught to save this child, who is not even in danger. She has a very useful friend in the Duke of Charmerace. I refuse.”

Guerchard stared at him, scowling, biting his lips, seeking a fresh point of attack. For the moment he knew himself baffled, but he still clung tenaciously to the struggle in which victory would be so precious.

The front-door bell rang again.

“There’s a lot of ringing at your bell this morning,” said Guerchard, under his breath; and hope sprang afresh in him.

Again they stood silent, waiting.

Dieusy opened the door, put in his head, and said, “It’s Mademoiselle Kritchnoff.”

“Collar her! ... Here’s the warrant! ... collar her!” shouted Guerchard, with savage, triumphant joy.

“Never! You shan’t touch her! By Heaven, you shan’t touch her!” cried Lupin frantically; and he sprang like a tiger at Guerchard.

Guerchard jumped to the other side of the table. “Will you accept, then?” he cried.

Lupin gripped the edge of the table with both hands, and stood panting, grinding his teeth, pale with fury. He stood silent and motionless for perhaps half a minute, gazing at Guerchard with burning, murderous eyes. Then he nodded his head.

“Let Mademoiselle Kritchnoff wait,” said Guerchard, with a sigh of deep relief. Dieusy went out of the room.

“Now let us settle exactly how we stand,” said Lupin, in a clear, incisive voice. “The bargain is this: If I give you the pictures, the tapestry, the cabinets, the coronet, and the death-certificate of the Duke of Charmerace, you give me your word of honour that Mademoiselle Kritchnoff shall not be touched.”

“That’s it!” said Guerchard eagerly.

“Once I deliver these things to you, Mademoiselle Kritchnoff passes out of the game.”

“Yes,” said Guerchard.

“Whatever happens afterwards. If I get back anything—if I escape—she goes scot-free,” said Lupin.

“Yes,” said Guerchard; and his eyes were shining.

“On your word of honour?” said Lupin.

“On my word of honour,” said Guerchard.

“Very well,” said Lupin, in a quiet, businesslike voice. “To begin with, here in this pocket-book you’ll find all the documents relating to the death of the Duke of Charmerace. In it you will also find the receipt of the Plantin furniture repository at Batignolles for the objects of art which I collected at Gournay-Martin’s. I sent them to Batignolles because, in my letters asking the owners of valuables to forward them to me, I always make Batignolles the place to which they are to be sent; therefore I knew that you would never look there. They are all in cases; for, while you were making those valuable inquiries yesterday, my men were putting them into cases. You’ll not find the receipt in the name of either the Duke of Charmerace or my own. It is in the name of a respected proprietor of Batignolles, a M. Pierre Servien. But he has lately left that charming suburb, and I do not think he will return to it.”

Guerchard almost snatched the pocket-book out of his hand. He verified the documents in it with greedy eyes; and then he put them back in it, and stuffed it into the breast-pocket of his coat.

“And where’s the coronet?” he said, in an excited voice.

“You’re nearly standing on it,” said Lupin.

“It’s in that kit-bag at your feet, on the top of the change of clothes in it.”

Guerchard snatched up the kit-bag, opened it, and took out the coronet.

“I’m afraid I haven’t the case,” said Lupin, in a tone of regret. “If you remember, I left it at Gournay-Martin’s—in your charge.”

Guerchard examined the coronet carefully. He looked at the stones in it; he weighed it in his right hand, and he weighed it in his left.

“Are you sure it’s the real one?” said Lupin, in a tone of acute but affected anxiety. “Do not—oh, do not let us have any more of these painful mistakes about it. They are so wearing.”

“Yes—yes—this is the real one,” said Guerchard, with another deep sigh of relief.

“Well, have you done bleeding me?” said Lupin contemptuously.

“Your arms,” said Guerchard quickly.

“They weren’t in the bond,” said Lupin. “But here you are.” And he threw his revolver on the table.

Guerchard picked it up and put it into his pocket. He looked at Lupin as if he could not believe his eyes, gloating over him. Then he said in a deep, triumphant tone:

“And now for the handcuffs!”