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"I give you my word of honour," said Prasville, formally. Clarisse underwent a momentary agitation that made her turn paler still. Then, mastering herself, with her eyes fixed on Prasville's eyes, she said: "You shall have the list of the Twenty-seven in exchange for the pardon of Gilbert and Vaucheray." "Eh? What?"
And, suddenly, in the frame of the great doorway, the wan light of day, the rain, the street, the outlines of houses, while far-off sounds came through the awful silence. They walked along the wall, to the corner of the boulevard. A few steps farther Vaucheray started back: he had seen!
He was the adversary aimed at, the leader who must be punished in the person of his friends, the famous and popular scoundrel whose fascination in the eyes of the crowd must be destroyed for good and all. With Gilbert and Vaucheray executed, Lupin's halo would fade away and the legend would be exploded. Lupin... Lupin... Arsene Lupin: it was the one name heard throughout the four days.
Gilbert crept along, with lowered head, supported by an executioner's assistant and by the chaplain, who made him kiss the crucifix as he went. There stood the guillotine. "No, no," shouted Gilbert, "I won't... I won't... Help! Help!" A last appeal, lost in space. The executioner gave a signal. Vaucheray was laid hold of, lifted, dragged along, almost at a run.
It took longer than he expected, for they discovered in the cupboards all sorts of valuable knick-knacks which it would have been very wrong to disdain and, on the other hand, Vaucheray and Gilbert were going about their investigations with signs of laboured concentration that nonplussed him. At long last, he lost his patience: "That will do!" he said.
"Yes, my lad, you're beginning," said Lupin, "and that's just why I'm afraid of blunders... Here, get in with me... And you, Vaucheray, take the other boat... That's it... And now push off, boys... and make as little noise as you can." Growler and Masher, the two oarsmen, made straight for the opposite bank, a little to the left of the casino.
But suddenly a terrible sentence was uttered: Clarisse, weeping, spoke of the eighteen days that had elapsed, eighteen more days lost to Gilbert's safety. Eighteen days! The figure terrified Lupin. He felt that all was over, that he would never be able to recover his strength and resume the struggle and that Gilbert and Vaucheray were doomed... His brain slipped away from him.
Lupin flew at them to separate them. But already Gilbert had got his adversary down and was wrenching out of his hand something which Lupin had no time to see. And Vaucheray, who was losing blood through a wound in the shoulder, fainted. "Who hurt him? You, Gilbert?" asked Lupin, furiously. "No, Leonard." "Leonard? Why, he was tied up!" "He undid his fastenings and got hold of his revolver."
He therefore made no difficulties about telling her what he knew, thanks to certain clues and especially to the evidence of the portress. For that matter, the thing was exceedingly simple. Daubrecq, who had attended the trial of Gilbert and Vaucheray as a witness and who was seen in court during the speeches, returned home at six o'clock.
I made a mistake in not inquiring... I must look into this.... I must rip off the beggar's mask. For, after all, it's not natural that a man should take so much trouble about a matter in which he is not directly interested. Why should he also wish to save Gilbert and Vaucheray? Why? Why should he?..." Lupin turned his head away.
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