“As complete as possible.”
“This house?”
“Surrounded.”
“The two adjoining houses?”
“Surrounded.”
“The apartment above this?”
“The three apartments on the fifth floor that were formerly occupied by Monsieur Dubreuil are surrounded.”
“So that—”
“So that you are captured, Monsieur Lupin—absolutely captured.”
The feelings that Sholmes had experienced during his trip in the automobile were now suffered by Lupin, the same concentrated fury, the same revolt, and also, let us admit, the same loyalty of submission to force of circumstances. Equally brave in victory or defeat.
“Our accounts are squared, monsieur,” said Lupin, frankly.
The Englishman was pleased with that confession. After a short silence Lupin, now quite self-possessed, said smiling:
“And I am not sorry! It becomes monotonous to win all the time. Yesterday I had only to stretch out my hand to finish you forever. Today I belong to you. The game is yours.” Lupin laughed heartily and then continued: “At last the gallery will be entertained! Lupin in prison! How will he get out? In prison! … What an adventure! … Ah! Sholmes, life is just one damn thing after another!”
He pressed his closed hands to his temples as if to suppress the tumultuous joy that surged within him, and his actions indicated that he was moved by an uncontrollable mirth. At last, when he had recovered his self-possession, he approached the detective and said:
“And now what are you waiting for?”
“What am I waiting for?”
“Yes; Ganimard is here with his men—why don’t they come in?”
“I asked him not to.”
“And he consented?”
“I accepted his services on condition that he would be guided by me. Besides, he thinks that Felix Davey is only an accomplice of Arsène Lupin.”
“Then I will repeat my question in another form. Why did you come in alone?”
“Because I wished to speak to you alone.”
“Ah! ah! you have something to say to me.”
That idea seemed to please Lupin immensely. There are certain circumstances in which words are preferable to deeds.
“Monsieur Sholmes, I am sorry I cannot offer you an easy chair. How would you like that broken box? Or perhaps you would prefer the window ledge? I am sure a glass of beer would be welcome … light or dark? … But sit down, please.”
“Thank you; we can talk as well standing up.”
“Very well—proceed.”
“I will be brief. The object of my sojourn in France was not to accomplish your arrest. If I have been led to pursue you, it was because I saw no other way to achieve my real object.”
“Which was?”
“To recover the blue diamond.”
“The blue diamond!”
“Certainly; since the one found in Herr Bleichen’s tooth-powder was only an imitation.”
“Quite right; the genuine diamond was taken by the blonde Lady. I made an exact duplicate of it and then, as I had designs on other jewels belonging to the Countess and as the Consul Herr Bleichen was already under suspicion, the aforesaid blonde Lady, in order to avert suspicion, slipped the false stone into the aforesaid Consul’s luggage.”
“While you kept the genuine diamond?”
“Of course.”
“That diamond—I want it.”
“I am very sorry, but it is impossible.”
“I have promised it to the Countess de Crozon. I must have it.”
“How will you get it, since it is in my possession?”
“That is precisely the reason—because it is in your possession.”
“Oh! I am to give it to you?”
“Yes.”
“Voluntarily?”
“I will buy it.”
“Ah!” exclaimed Lupin, in an access of mirth, “you are certainly an Englishman. You treat this as a matter of business.”
“It is a matter of business.”
“Well! what is your offer?”
“The liberty of Mademoiselle Destange.”
“Her liberty? … I didn’t know she was under arrest.”
“I will give Monsieur Ganimard the necessary information. When deprived of your protection, she can readily be taken.”
Lupin laughed again, and said:
“My dear monsieur, you are offering me something you do not possess. Mademoiselle Destange is in a place of safety, and has nothing to fear. You must make me another offer.”
The Englishman hesitated, visibly embarrassed and vexed. Then, placing his hand on the shoulder of his adversary, he said:
“And if I should propose to you—”
“My liberty?”
“No … but I can leave the room to consult with Ganimard.”
“And leave me alone?”
“Yes.”
“Ah! mon Dieu, what good would that be? The cursed mechanism will not work,” said Lupin, at the same time savagely pushing the moulding of the mantel. He stifled a cry of surprise; this time fortune favored him—the block of marble moved. It was his salvation; his hope of escape. In that event, why submit to the conditions imposed by Sholmes? He paced up and down the room, as if he were considering his reply. Then, in his turn, he placed his hand on the shoulder of his adversary, and said:
“All things considered, Monsieur Sholmes, I prefer to do my own business in my own way.”
“But—”
“No, I don’t require anyone’s assistance.”
“When Ganimard gets his hand on you, it will be all over. You can’t escape from them.”
“Who knows?”
“Come, that is foolish. Every door and window is guarded.”
“Except one.”
“Which?”
“The one I will choose.”
“Mere words! Your arrest is as good as made.”
“Oh! no—not at all.”
“Well?”
“I shall keep the blue diamond.”
Sholmes looked at his watch, and said:
“It is now ten minutes to three. At three o’clock I shall call Ganimard.”
“Well, then, we have ten minutes to chat. And to satisfy my curiosity, Monsieur Sholmes, I should like to know how you procured my address and my name of Felix Davey?”
Although his adversary’s easy manner caused Sholmes some anxiety, he was willing to give Lupin the desired information since it reflected credit on his professional astuteness; so he replied:
“Your address? I got it from the blonde Lady.”
“Clotilde!”
“Herself. Do you remember, yesterday morning, when I wished to take her away in the automobile, she telephoned to her dressmaker.”
“Well?”
“Well, I understood, later, that you were the dressmaker. And last night, on the boat, by exercising my memory—and my memory is something I have good reason to
