“Look here, what are you driving at?” growled the Broker, listening in spite of himself.
“Aha, Broker, I’m beginning to interest you, am I? … Come in, old chap. … Come in, all of you. … There’s a draught at the top of those stairs … and such pretty fellows as you mustn’t run the risk of catching cold. … What, are we afraid? Why, I’m all by myself! … Come, pull yourselves together, my lambs!”
They entered the room, puzzled and suspicious.
“Shut the door, Broker … we shall be more comfortable. Thanks, old man. Oh, by the way, I see the notes are gone. Therefore we’re agreed. How easy it is for honest men to come to terms!”
“Well … and next?”
“Next? Well, as we’re partners …”
“Partners?”
“Why, haven’t you accepted my money? We’re working together, old man, and we will carry off the young woman together first and carry off the jewels after.”
The Broker grinned:
“Don’t want you for that.”
“Yes, you do, old man.”
“Why?”
“Because you don’t know where the jewels are hidden and I do.”
“We’ll find out.”
“Tomorrow. Not tonight.”
“Well, let’s hear. What do you want?”
“My share of the jewels.”
“Why didn’t you take the lot, as you know where they are?”
“Can’t get at them by myself. There’s a way of doing it, but I don’t know it. You’re here, so I’m making use of you.”
The Broker hesitated:
“Share the jewels. … Share the jewels. … A few bits of glass and brass, most likely. …”
“You fool! … There’s more than a million’s worth.”
The men quivered under the impression made upon them.
“Very well,” said the Broker. “But suppose the Kesselbach gets away? She’s in the next room, isn’t she?”
“No, she’s in here.”
Lupin for a moment pulled back one of the leaves of the screen, revealing the heap of dresses and bedclothes which he had laid out on the sofa:
“She’s here, fainting. But I shan’t give her up till we’ve divided.”
“Still …”
“You can take it or leave it. I don’t care if I am alone. You know what I’m good for. So please yourselves. …”
The men consulted with one another and the Broker said:
“Where is the hiding-place you’re talking of?”
“Under the fireplace. But, when you don’t know the secret, you must first lift up the whole chimneypiece, looking-glass, marble and all in a lump, it seems. It’s no easy job.”
“Pooh, we’re a smart lot, we are! Just you wait and see. In five minutes …”
He gave his orders and his pals at once set to work with admirable vigor and discipline. Two of them, standing on chairs, tried to lift the mirror. The four others attacked the fireplace itself. The Broker, on his knees, kept his eyes on the hearth and gave the word of command:
“Cheerily, lads! … Altogether, if you please! … Look out! … One, two … ah, there, it’s moving! …”
Standing behind them, with his hands in his pockets, Lupin watched them affectionately and, at the same time, revelled with all his pride, as an artist and master, in this striking proof of his authority, of his might, of the incredible sway which he wielded over others. How could those scoundrels for a second accept that improbable story and lose all sense of things, to the point of relinquishing every chance of the fight in his favor?
He took from his pockets two great massive and formidable revolvers and, calmly, choosing the first two men whom he would bring down and the two who would fall next, he aimed as he might have aimed at a pair of targets in a rifle-gallery.
Two shots together and two more. …
Loud yells of pain. … Four men came tumbling down, one after the other, like dolls at a cockshy.
“Four from seven leaves three,” said Lupin. “Shall I go on?”
His arms remained outstretched, levelled at the Broker and his two pals.
“You swine!” growled the Broker, feeling for a weapon.
“Hands up,” cried Lupin, “or I fire! … That’s it. … Now, you two, take away his toys. … If not … !”
The two scoundrels, shaking with fear, caught hold of their leader and compelled him to submit.
“Bind him! … Bind him, confound it! … What difference does it make to you? … Once I’m gone, you’re all free. … Come along, have you finished? The wrists first … with your belts. … And the ankles. … Hurry up! …”
The Broker, beaten and disabled, made no further resistance. While his pals were binding him, Lupin stooped over them and dealt them two terrific blows on the head with the butt-end of his revolver. They sank down in a heap.
“That’s a good piece of work,” he said, taking breath. “Pity there are not another fifty of them. I was just in the mood. … And all so easily done … with a smile on one’s face. … What do you think of it, Broker?”
The scoundrel lay cursing. Lupin said:
“Cheer up, old man! Console yourself with the thought that you are helping in a good action, the rescue of Mrs. Kesselbach. She will thank you in person for your gallantry.”
He went to the door of the second room and opened it:
“What’s this?” he said, stopping on the threshold, taken aback, dumbfounded.
The room was empty.
He went to the window, saw a ladder leaning against the balcony, a telescopic steel ladder, and muttered:
“Kidnapped … kidnapped … Louis de Malreich. … Oh, the villain! …”
He reflected for a minute, trying to master his anguish of mind, and said to himself that, after all, as Mrs. Kesselbach seemed to be in no immediate danger, there was no cause for alarm.
But he was seized with a sudden fit of rage and flew at the seven scoundrels, gave a kick or two to those of the wounded who stirred, felt for his banknotes and put them back in his pocket, then gagged the men’s mouths and tied their hands with anything that he could find—blind-cords, curtain-loops, blankets and sheets reduced to strips—and, lastly, laid in a row on the carpet, in front of the sofa, seven bundles of humanity, packed tight together and tied up like so many parcels:
“Mummies on toast!” he chuckled. “A dainty dish for those who like that sort of thing! … You pack of fools, how does this suit you,
