The Extraordinary Adventures of Arsène Lupin, Gentleman-Burglar by Maurice Leblanc (series like harry potter .TXT) 📕
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- Author: Maurice Leblanc
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“Yes, proceed.”
“Well, let us suppose a castle carefully closed and barricaded like that of the Baron Cahorn. Am I to abandon my scheme and renounce the treasures that I covet, upon the pretext that the castle which holds them is inaccessible?”
“Evidently not.”
“Should I make an assault upon the castle at the head of a band of adventurers as they did in ancient times?”
“That would be foolish.”
“Can I gain admittance by stealth or cunning?”
“Impossible.”
“Then there is only one way open to me. I must have the owner of the castle invite me to it.”
“That is surely an original method.”
“And how easy! Let us suppose that one day the owner receives a letter warning him that a notorious burglar known as Arsène Lupin is plotting to rob him. What will he do?”
“Send a letter to the Procureur.”
“Who will laugh at him, because the said Arsène Lupin is actually in prison. Then, in his anxiety and fear, the simple man will ask the assistance of the first-comer, will he not?”
“Very likely.”
“And if he happens to read in a country newspaper that a celebrated detective is spending his vacation in a neighboring town—-”
“He will seek that detective.”
“Of course. But, on the other hand, let us presume that, having foreseen that state of affairs, the said Arsène Lupin has requested one of his friends to visit Caudebec, make the acquaintance of the editor of the ‘Réveil,’ a newspaper to which 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 Sureté.”
“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 egg-shell 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 post-marks 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. “Ganimard, this is Friday. On Wednesday next, at four o’clock in the afternoon, I will smoke my cigar at your house in the rue Pergolese.”
“Arsène Lupin, I will expect you.”
They shook hands like two old friends who valued each other at their true worth; then the detective stepped to the door.
“Ganimard!”
“What is it?” asked Ganimard, as he turned back.
“You have forgotten your watch.”
“My watch?”
“Yes, it strayed into my pocket.”
He returned the watch, excusing himself.
“Pardon me.... a bad habit. Because they have taken mine is no reason why I should take yours. Besides, I have a chronometer here that satisfies me fairly well.”
He took from the drawer a large gold watch and heavy chain.
“From whose pocket did that come?” asked Ganimard.
Arsène Lupin gave a hasty glance at the initials engraved on the watch.
“J.B.....Who the devil can that be?....Ah! yes, I remember. Jules Bouvier, the judge who conducted my examination. A charming fellow!....”
Arsène Lupin had just finished his repast and taken from his pocket an excellent cigar, with a gold band, which he was examining with unusual care, when the door of his cell was opened. He had barely time to throw the cigar into the drawer and move away from the table. The guard entered. It was the hour for exercise.
“I was waiting for you, my dear boy,” exclaimed Lupin, in his accustomed good humor.
They went out together. As soon as they had disappeared at a turn in the corridor, two men entered the cell and commenced a minute examination of it. One was Inspector Dieuzy; the other was Inspector Folenfant. They wished to verify their suspicion that Arsène Lupin was in communication with his accomplices outside of the prison. On the preceding evening, the ‘Grand Journal’ had published these lines addressed to its court reporter:
“Monsieur:
“In a recent article you referred to me in most unjustifiable terms. Some days before the opening of my trial I will call you to account. Arsène Lupin.”
The handwriting was certainly that of Arsène Lupin. Consequently, he sent letters; and, no doubt, received letters. It was certain that he was preparing for that escape thus arrogantly announced by him.
The situation had become intolerable. Acting in conjunction with the examining judge, the chief of the Sûreté, Mon. Dudouis, had visited the prison and instructed the gaoler in regard to the precautions necessary to insure Lupin’s safety. At the same time, he sent the two men to examine the prisoner’s cell. They raised every stone, ransacked the bed, did everything customary in such a case, but they discovered nothing, and were about to abandon their investigation when the guard entered hastily and said:
“The drawer.... look in the table-drawer. When I entered just now he was closing it.”
They opened the drawer, and Dieuzy exclaimed:
“Ah! we have him this time.”
Folenfant stopped him.
“Wait a moment. The chief will want to make an inventory.”
“This is a very choice cigar.”
“Leave it there, and notify the chief.”
Two minutes later Mon. Dudouis examined the contents of the drawer. First he discovered a bundle of newspaper clippings relating to Arsène Lupin taken from the ‘Argus de la Presse,’ then a tobacco-box, a pipe, some paper called “onion-peel,” and two books. He read the titles of the books. One was an English edition of Carlyle’s “Hero-worship”; the other was a charming elzevir, in modern binding, the “Manual of Epictetus,” a German translation published at Leyden in 1634. On examining the books, he found that all the pages were underlined and annotated. Were they prepared as a code for correspondence, or did they simply express the studious character of the reader? Then he examined the tobacco-box and the pipe. Finally, he took up the famous cigar with its gold band.
“Fichtre!” he exclaimed. “Our friend smokes a good cigar. It’s a Henry Clay.”
With the mechanical action of an habitual smoker, he placed the cigar close to his ear and squeezed it to make it crack. Immediately he uttered a cry of surprise. The cigar had yielded under the pressure of his fingers. He examined it more closely, and quickly discovered something white between the leaves of tobacco. Delicately, with the aid of a pin, he withdrew a roll of very thin paper, scarcely larger than a toothpick. It was a letter. He unrolled it, and found these words, written in a feminine handwriting:
“The basket has taken the place of the others. Eight out of ten are ready. On pressing the outer foot the plate goes downward. From twelve to sixteen every day, H-P will wait. But where? Reply at once. Rest easy; your friend is watching over you.”
Mon. Dudouis reflected a moment, then said:
“It is quite clear.... the basket.... the eight compartments.... From twelve to sixteen means from twelve to four o’clock.”
“But this H-P, that will wait?”
“H-P must mean automobile. H-P, horsepower, is the way they indicate strength of the motor. A twenty-four H-P is an automobile of twenty-four horsepower.”
Then he rose, and asked:
“Had the prisoner finished his breakfast?”
“Yes.”
“And as he has not yet read the message, which is proved by the condition of
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