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Updated: June 10, 2025
Lupin remembered that, in the Chamber of Deputies, Daubrecq was nicknamed "The Wild Man of the Woods" and that he was so labelled not only because he stood aloof and hardly ever mixed with his fellow-members, but also because of his appearance, his behaviour, his peculiar gait and his remarkable muscular development.
"The Growler was in Paris that same day, with a note from me for Prasville, entreating him to redouble his watch in the Square Lamartine, so that no one should enter, especially d'Albufex..." "But Daubrecq?" "He is wounded. He cannot have gone home." "Ah, well," he said, "that's all right!... But you too were wounded..." "A mere scratch on the shoulder."
I fell in love with Victorien Mergy from the first. Perhaps I was wrong not to declare myself at once. But true love is always timid, hesitating and shy; and I did not announce my choice until I felt quite certain and quite free. Unfortunately, that period of waiting, so delightful for those who cherish a secret passion, had permitted Daubrecq to hope. His anger was something horrible."
Clarisse Mergy, the loving wife of that Mergy whom Daubrecq had really murdered, the terrified mother of that Gilbert whom Daubrecq had led astray, Clarisse Mergy, to save her son from the scaffold, must, come what may and however ignominious the position, yield to Daubrecq's wishes.
A few seconds passed: ten, twenty perhaps. Daubrecq did not move. Daubrecq did not speak. And she was astounded at that great silence and that sudden quiet. Did the monster, at the last moment, feel a scruple of remorse? She raised her eyelids. The sight which she beheld struck her with stupefaction.
I had only to wait for his visit. The hour has arrived. Good-evening, Master Lupin." Daubrecq paused. He had delivered his speech with the evident satisfaction of a man entitled to claim the appreciation of the most captious critics. As Lupin did not speak, he took out his watch: "I say! Only twenty-three minutes! How time flies! At this rate, we sha'n't have time to come to an explanation."
"But, to be accurate, are you not deceived as to that value?" "Was Daubrecq deceived? Was Daubrecq not in a better position than any of us to know the full power of that paper? Did he not have twenty proofs of it, each more convincing than the last? Think of all that he was able to do, for the sole reason that people knew him to possess the list. They knew it; and that was all.
Lupin exclaimed: "What! Did Daubrecq plot the present business?" "No, no, that is only an accident. The hateful prophecy was just a wish which he expressed. But oh, how it terrified me! I was ailing at the time; my other son, my little Jacques, had just been born.
Ten minutes passed. Some one tapped at their door. It was one of the men from the box-office. "Are you M. le Depute Daubrecq, sir?" he asked. "Yes," said Daubrecq, in a voice of surprise. "But how do you know my name?" "There's a gentleman asking for you on the telephone. He told me to go to Box 22." "But who is it?" "M. le Marquis d'Albufex." "Eh?" "What am I to say, sir?"
"And to think that the rogue may be writing the truth! The most elementary hiding-places are the safest. We must look into this, all the same. And, also, we must find out why Daubrecq is the object of such strict supervision and obtain a few particulars about the fellow generally."
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