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Updated: September 11, 2025
And he remembered the Sire de Tancarville, alone, he too, amid the darkness, who must have shivered at the noise of the stones which he loosened and sent bounding down the cliff. How the least sound reverberated through the silence! If one of Daubrecq's guards was peering into the gloom from the Lovers' Tower, it meant a shot... and death.
"At the foot of the stairs, as it was coming out of Daubrecq's bedroom," replied Lupin, feeling the jersey in the hope that the child had brought a booty of some kind from that room. Victoire was stirred to pity: "Poor little dear! Look, he's trying not to cry!... Oh, saints above, his hands are like ice! Don't be afraid, sonnie, we sha'n't hurt you: the gentleman's all right."
Perhaps, also, he considers it wise to lie low for a few weeks and avoid any traps on the part of the police, d'Albufex, you, myself and all his other enemies." He stopped to think and continued: "What has happened at Mortepierre since Daubrecq's escape? Has there been no talk in the neighbourhood?"
Unfortunately and Lupin was no more successful in his own attempts it was impossible to obtain the least clue as to the motor-car, the chauffeur and the four people who had entered Daubrecq's house. Were they associates of the marquis, compromised in the canal affair like himself? Were they men in his pay? Nobody knew.
The road through the river-valley was little used, and nobody came to interrupt the work. The night was dark, the sky heavy with moveless clouds. Lupin gave the Masher and the Growler their final instructions and said, with a laugh: "I can't tell you how amused I am at the thought of seeing Daubrecq's face when they proceed to take his scalp or slice his skin into ribbons.
"But I thought," observed Prasville, "that your intention, on leaving me, was to drag Daubrecq's secret from him at all costs." "Certainly. But Daubrecq was not in Paris." "Oh?" "No. He was on his way to Paris in a motor-car." "Have you a motor-car, M. Nicole?" "Yes, when I need it: an out-of-date concern, an old tin kettle of sorts.
He snatched at the lady's veil and pulled it aside before she had time to defend herself: "What!" he muttered, with increased amazement. "Is it possible?" It was the woman whom he had seen at Daubrecq's a few days earlier, the woman who had raised her dagger against Daubrecq and who had intended to stab him with all the strength of her hatred. It was her turn to be taken aback: "What!
That is what I wanted: to see that man crushed, reduced to poverty, to tears as though he still knew how to cry! sobbing in the throes of despair..." "You wanted his death," said Lupin, remembering the scene between them in Daubrecq's study. "No, not his death. I have often thought of it, I have even raised my arm to strike him, but what would have been the good?
"So, on principle," Arsene Lupin concluded, "the crystal stopper must still be in Daubrecq's study?" "If it was there before Daubrecq's disappearance, it should be there now." "And on the study-table." "On the study-table? Why do you say that?" "Because I know," said Lupin, who had not forgotten Sebastiani's words. "But you don't know the article in which the stopper is hidden?" "No.
The one and only solution that would have calmed his feelings, that is to say, for him to throttle his adversary then and there, was so absurd that he preferred to accept Daubrecq's gibes without attempting to retort, though each of them cut him like the lash of a whip.
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