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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.
Prasville smiled: "The wish, obviously, would lead us to make certain sacrifices." "Every sacrifice," said Mme. Mergy, correcting him. "Every sacrifice, provided, of course, that we keep within the bounds of acceptable requirements." "And even if we go beyond those bounds," said Clarisse, inflexibly. Prasville began to lose patience: "Come, what is it all about? Explain yourself."
"His evil genius, the man who, secretly, unknown to his parents, enticed him away from school, the man who led him astray, who corrupted him, who took him from us, who taught him to lie, to waste his substance and to steal." "Daubrecq?" "Daubrecq." Clarisse Mergy put her hands together to hide the blushes on her forehead. She continued, in her tired voice: "Daubrecq had taken his revenge.
"But he's quite the thing!" declared Nana in perfect enchantment. Gaga and Clarisse had called La Faloise and were throwing themselves at him in their efforts to regain his allegiance, but he left them immediately, rolling off in a chaffing, disdainful manner. Nana dazzled him. He rushed up to her and stood on the carriage step, and when she twitted him about Gaga he murmured: "Oh dear, no!
Clarisse went upstairs again in disgust, crossed over behind scenes and nimbly mounted three flights of steps which led to the dressing rooms, in order to bring Simonne her reply. Downstairs the prince had withdrawn from the rest and stood talking to Nana. He never left her; he stood brooding over her through half-shut eyelids. Nana did not look at him but, smiling, nodded yes.
He expected to find the Growler and the Masher, with whom he was to kidnap Daubrecq that evening. But he had hardly opened the door of his flat, when a cry escaped him: Clarisse stood before him; Clarisse, who had returned from Brittany at the moment of the verdict. He at once gathered from her attitude and her pallor that she knew.
Clarisse was walking up to him with short, stiff steps, like an automaton. She said: "Then..." "Then what, dear friend?" "You refuse?" "Certainly, I am obliged to; I have no choice." "You refuse to take that step?" "Look here, how can I do what you ask? It's not possible, on the strength of a valueless document..."
He knelt before her on one knee. And, respectfully: "I beg your pardon, madame. The fit is over." And, getting up again, resuming his whimsical manner, he continued, while Clarisse wondered what he was driving at: "What's the next article, madame? Your son's pardon, perhaps? Certainly!
A motor-car took them across Paris at full speed, but they soon saw that Clarisse Mergy was not outside the station, nor in the waiting-rooms, nor on any of the platforms. "Still," muttered Lupin, whose agitation grew as the obstacles increased, "still, if Daubrecq booked a berth in a sleeping-car, it can only have been in an evening train. And it is barely half-past seven!"
"If you care about that list of the Twenty-seven, the real list, wait for me. I shall be back in an hour, in two hours, at most; and then we will talk business." And abruptly, to Clarisse: "And you, madame, a little courage yet. I command you to show courage, in Gilbert's name."
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