LUPIN - The Adventures of Gentleman Thief. Морис Леблан
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in the lift, himself strung up to fighting point; he was panting. Lupin's instructions were whirling and dancing in his head.
Lupin went quietly down the stairs. Victoire and Sonia saw him coming. Victoire rose; and as he came to the bottom of the stairs Sonia stepped forward and said in an anxious, pleading voice:
"Oh, M. Guerchard, where is he?"
"He's here," said Lupin, in his natural voice.
Sonia sprang to him with outstretched arms.
"It's you! It IS you!" she cried.
"Just look how like him I am!" said Lupin, laughing triumphantly. "But do I look quite ruffian enough?"
"Oh, NO! You couldn't!" cried Sonia.
"Isn't he a wonder?" said Victoire.
"This time the Duke of Charmerace is dead, for good and all," said Lupin.
"No; it's Lupin that's dead," said Sonia softly.
"Lupin?" he said, surprised.
"Yes," said Sonia firmly.
"It would be a terrible loss, you know—a loss for France," said Lupin gravely.
"Never mind," said Sonia.
"Oh, I must be in love with you!" said Lupin, in a wondering tone; and he put his arm round her and kissed her violently.
"And you won't steal any more?" said Sonia, holding him back with both hands on his shoulders, looking into his eyes.
"I shouldn't dream of such a thing," said Lupin. "You are here. Guerchard is in the lift. What more could I possibly desire?" His voice softened and grew infinitely caressing as he went on: "Yet when you are at my side I shall always have the soul of a lover and the soul of a thief. I long to steal your kisses, your thoughts, the whole of your heart. Ah, Sonia, if you want me to steal nothing else, you have only to stay by my side."
Their lips met in a long kiss.
Sonia drew herself out of his arms and cried, "But we're wasting time! We must make haste! We must fly!"
"Fly?" said Lupin sharply. "No, thank you; never again. I did flying enough last night to last me a lifetime. For the rest of my life I'm going to crawl—crawl like a snail. But come along, you two, I must take you to the police-station."
He opened the front door, and they came out on the steps. The policeman in charge of the car saluted.
Lupin paused and said softly: "Hark! I hear the sound of wedding bells."
They went down the steps.
Even as they were getting into the car some chance blow of Guerchard or Dieusy struck a hidden spring and released the lift. It sank to the level of Lupin's smoking-room and stopped. The doors flew open, Dieusy and Guerchard sprang out of it; and on the instant the brown-faced, nervous policeman sprang actively on Guerchard and pinned him. Taken by surprise, Guerchard yelled loudly, "You stupid idiot!" somehow entangled his legs in those of his captor, and they rolled on the floor. Dieusy surveyed them for a moment with blank astonishment. Then, with swift intelligence, grasped the fact that the policeman was Lupin in disguise. He sprang upon them, tore them asunder, fell heavily on the policeman, and pinned him to the floor with a strangling hand on his throat.
Guerchard dashed to the door, tried it, and found it locked, dashed for the window, threw it open, and thrust out his head. Forty yards down the street a motor-car was rolling smoothly away—rolling to a honeymoon.
"Oh, hang it!" he screamed. "He's doing a bunk in my motor-car!"
The Hollow Needle
CHAPTER TWO ISIDORE BEAUTRELET, SIXTH-FORM SCHOOLBOY
CHAPTER SIX AN HISTORIC SECRET
CHAPTER SEVEN THE TREATISE OF THE NEEDLE
CHAPTER EIGHT FROM CAESAR TO LUPIN
CHAPTER TEN THE TREASURES OF THE KINGS OF FRANCE
CHAPTER ONE
THE SHOT
Raymonde listened. The noise was repeated twice over, clearly enough to be distinguished from the medley of vague sounds that formed the great silence of the night and yet too faintly to enable her to tell whether it was near or far, within the walls of the big country-house, or outside, among the murky recesses of the park.
She rose softly. Her window was half open: she flung it back wide. The moonlight lay over a peaceful landscape of lawns and thickets, against which the straggling ruins of the old abbey stood out in tragic outlines, truncated columns, mutilated arches, fragments of porches and shreds of flying buttresses. A light breeze hovered over the face of things, gliding noiselessly through the bare motionless branches of the trees, but shaking the tiny budding leaves of the shrubs.
And, suddenly, she heard the same sound again. It was on the left and on the floor below her, in the living rooms, therefore, that occupied the left wing of the house. Brave and plucky though she was, the girl felt afraid. She slipped on her dressing gown and took the matches.
"Raymonde—Raymonde!"
A voice as low as a breath was calling to her from the next room, the door of which had not been closed. She was feeling her way there, when Suzanne, her cousin, came out of the room and fell into her arms:
"Raymonde—is that you? Did you hear—?"
"Yes. So you're not asleep?"
"I suppose the dog woke me—some time ago. But he's not barking now. What time is it?"
"About four."
"Listen! Surely, some one's walking in the drawing room!"
"There's no danger, your father is down there, Suzanne."
"But there is danger for him. His room is next to the boudoir."
"M. Daval is there too—"
"At the other end of the house. He could never hear."
They hesitated, not knowing what course to decide upon. Should they call out? Cry for help? They dared not; they were frightened of the sound of their own voices. But Suzanne, who had gone to the window, suppressed a scream:
"Look!—A man!—Near the fountain!"
A man was walking away at a rapid pace. He carried under his arm a fairly large load, the nature of which they were unable to distinguish: it knocked against his leg and impeded his