“Release him, Stéphane,” cried Don Luis.
And he added, addressing the Moors:
“Help him, you others. And get the submarine under way. We shall sail in ten minutes.”
He turned to Vorski:
“Goodbye, my dear chap. … Oh, just one more word! Every well-regulated adventure contains a love-story. Ours appears to be without one, for I should never dare to allude to the feelings that urged you towards the sainted woman who bore your name. And yet I must tell you of a very pure and noble affection. Did you notice the eagerness with which Stéphane flew to François’ assistance? Obviously he loves his young pupil, but he loves the mother still more. And, since everything that pleases Véronique d’Hergemont is bound to please you, I wish to admit that he is not indifferent to her, that his wonderful love has touched her heart, that it was with real joy that she saw him restored to her this morning and that this will all end in a wedding … as soon as she’s a widow, of course. You follow me, don’t you? The only obstacle to their happiness is yourself. Therefore, as you are a perfect little gentleman, you will not like to … But I need not go on. I rely on your good manners to die as soon as you can. Goodbye, old fellow, I won’t offer you my hand, but my heart’s with you. Otto, in ten minutes, unless you hear to the contrary, release your employer. You’ll find the boat at the bottom of the cliff. Good luck, my friends!”
It was finished. The battle between Don Luis and Vorski was ended: and the issue had not been in doubt for a single instant. From the first minute, one of the two adversaries had so consistently dominated the other, that the latter, in spite of all his daring and his training as a criminal, had been nothing more than a grotesque, absurd, disjointed puppet in his opponent’s hands. After succeeding in the entire execution of his plan, after attaining and surpassing his object, he, the master of events, in the moment of victory, found himself suddenly strung up on the tree of torture; and there he remained, gasping and captive like an insect pinned to a strip of cork.
Without troubling any further about his victims, Don Luis went off with Patrice Belval, who could not help saying to him:
“All the same, you’re letting those vile scoundrels down very lightly!”
“Pooh, it won’t be long before they get themselves nabbed elsewhere,” said Don Luis, chuckling. “What do you expect them to do?”
“Well, first of all, to take the God-Stone.”
“Out of the question! It would need twenty men to do that, with a scaffolding and machinery. I myself am giving up the idea for the present. I shall come back after the war.”
“But, look here, Don Luis, what is this miraculous stone?”
“Ah, now you’re asking something!” said Don Luis, without making further reply.
They set out; and Don Luis, rubbing his hands, said:
“I worked the thing well. It’s not much over twenty-four hours since we landed at Sarek. And the riddle had lasted twenty-four centuries. One century an hour. My congratulations, Lupin.”
“I should be glad to offer you mine, Don Luis,” said Patrice Belval, “but they are not worth as much as those of an expert like yourself.”
When they reached the sands of the little beach, François’ boat had already been lowered and was empty. Farther away, on the right, the Crystal Stopper was floating on the calm sea. François came running up to them, stopped a few yards from Don Luis and looked at him with wide-open eyes:
“I say,” he murmured, “then it’s you? It’s you I was expecting?”
“Faith,” said Don Luis, laughing. “I don’t know if you were expecting me … but I’m sure it’s me!”
“You … you … Don Luis Perenna! … That is to say …”
“Hush, no other names! Perenna’s enough for me. … Besides, we won’t talk about me, if you don’t mind. I was just a chance, a gentleman who happened to drop in at the right moment. Whereas you … by Jove, youngster, but you’ve done jolly well! … So you spent the night in the boat?”
“Yes, under the tarpaulin, lashed to the bottom and tightly gagged.”
“Uncomfortable?”
“Not at all. I hadn’t been there ten minutes when All’s Well appeared. So …”
“But the man, the scoundrel: what had he threatened to do to you?”
“Nothing. After the duel, while the others were attending to my opponent, he brought me down here, pretending that he was going to take me to mother and put us both on board the boat. Then, when we got to the boat, he laid hold of me without a word.”
“Do you know the man? Do you know his name?”
“I know nothing about him. All I can say is that he was persecuting us, mother and me.”
“For reasons which I shall explain to you, François. In any case, you have nothing to fear from him now.”
“Oh, but you haven’t killed him?”
“No, but I have put it out of his power to do any more harm. This will all be explained to you; but I think that, for the moment, the most urgent thing is that we should go to your mother.”
“Stéphane told me that she was resting over there, in the submarine, and that you had saved her too. Does she expect me?”
“Yes; we had a talk last night, she and I, and I promised to find you. I felt that she trusted me. All the same, Stéphane, you had better go ahead and prepare her.”
The Crystal Stopper lay at the end of a reef of rocks which formed a sort of natural jetty. Some ten or twelve Moors were running to and fro. Two had drawn apart and were whispering together. Two of them were holding a gangway which Don Luis and François crossed a minute later.
In one of the cabins, arranged as a drawing-room, Véronique lay stretched on a couch. Her pale face bore
