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But what were her relations with Sauverand and what was her connection with Don Luis Perenna? That's what I should like to know. Have you discovered nothing in her papers?" "No, Monsieur le Préfet," said Mazeroux. "Nothing but bills and tradesmen's letters." "And you, Weber?" "I've found something very interesting, Monsieur le Préfet." "Yes. What sort of documents?"
"Marie Fauville?" "Why, of course! Do you think I'm going to leave her in prison, or Sauverand, either? There's not a second to lose, old chap." Mazeroux thought to himself that the chief had not quite recovered his wits yet. What? Release Marie Fauville and Sauverand, one, two, three, just like that! No, no, it was going a bit too far.
And, one morning, on the Boulevard Suchet, where I had followed you, I fired a revolver at you. "The same evening your motor car, tampered with by myself remember, Florence's rooms are close to the garage carried you, I hoped, to your death, together with Sergeant Mazeroux, your confederate.... That time again you escaped my vengeance.
"Chief," replied Mazeroux, "I can't say if I shall ever know what it means to be afraid. But there's one case in which I certainly shall never know." "What case is that, old chap?" "As long as I'm by your side, Chief." And firmly he rang the bell. The door was opened by a manservant. Mazeroux sent in his card. Hippolyte received the two visitors in his study.
Valenglay said to Perenna: "Monsieur, you have done wonders in this business and ended by keeping your word and handing over the criminal. I also will keep my word. You are free." "I thank you, Monsieur le Président. But what about Sergeant Mazeroux?" "He will be released this morning. Monsieur le Préfet de Police has arranged matters so that the public do not know of the arrest of either of you.
"The low hound!" muttered Don Luis. "What do you say to that, Sergeant?" Sergeant Mazeroux was looking at him in stupefaction, with his eyes starting from his head. "Well, but, Monsieur " "What, Sergeant?" "Well, but, Monsieur, who are you?" "Who am I?" "Yes." "Didn't they tell you? A Peruvian nobleman, or a Spanish nobleman, I don't know which. In short, Don Luis Perenna." "Bunkum!
Next morning Mazeroux came to the little flat in the Rue de Rivoli looking very spry. "You've had a narrow escape, Chief. Weber heard this morning that the bird had flown. He's simply furious! And you must confess that the tangle is getting worse and worse. They're utterly at a loss at headquarters. They don't even know how to set about prosecuting Florence Levasseur.
He did not even bow to Don Luis; and the magistrates who accompanied him might have thought that Don Luis was merely an assistant of Sergeant Mazeroux, if the chief detective had not made it his business to tell them, in a few words, the part played by the stranger. M. Desmalions briefly examined the two corpses and received a rapid explanation from Mazeroux.
Mazeroux plunged both hands into the crowd of papers that encumbered the iron shelf. "Well, Mazeroux, hand it over." "What?" "The diary." "I can't Chief." "What's that?" "It's gone." Don Luis stifled an oath. The drab-cloth diary, which the engineer had placed in the safe before their eyes, had disappeared. Mazeroux shook his head. "Dash it all! So they knew about that diary!"
The Prime Minister would be very angry if he heard afterward that they had neglected to communicate my request. Go, Mazeroux, and then find the villain's tracks again." The governor of the prison had opened the jail book. "You can enter my name, Monsieur le Directeur," said Don Luis. "Put down 'Arsène Lupin." The governor smiled and said: "I should find a difficulty in putting down any other.
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