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Updated: June 11, 2025
"He is farming his own land, way down in Algeria, under his real name, his only name of Antoine Mergy. He is married to an Englishwoman, and they have a son whom he insisted on calling Arsene. I often receive a bright, chatty, warm-hearted letter from him." "And Mme. Mergy?" "She and her little Jacques are living with them." "Did you see her again?" "I did not." "Really!"
"Oh, certainly, there would be nothing more to fear!" "You're sure? You're sure?... Yes, of course you are!... Well, when Madame Mergy wakes, tell her from me that I will bring her back her son this evening, before midnight. This evening, before midnight: it's a solemn promise."
He entered without a word, made a sign to Lupin, who had risen from his chair, to resume his seat and himself sat down at the writing-desk. Glancing at the card which he held in his hand: "Dr. Vernes?" "Yes, monsieur le depute, Dr. Vernes, of Saint-Germain." "And I see that you come from Mme. Mergy. A patient of yours?" "A recent patient.
"It was the same thing at eight o'clock this morning, when I was waiting for the motor which was bringing Daubrecq to me in his trunk: I had to march up and down the Place de Clichy, so as to prevent the car from stopping outside the door of my place and your men from interfering in my private affairs. Otherwise, once again, Gilbert and Clarisse Mergy would have been lost."
One was that I entertained for her a much deeper feeling than I thought; the other that she, on the contrary, entertained for me a feeling which was not without contempt, not without a rankling grudge nor even a certain aversion." "Nonsense! Why?" "Why? Because Clarisse Mergy is an exceedingly honest woman and because I am... just Arsene Lupin." "Oh!"
Life quivered in her veins once more, together with the horror of living and the horror of all the ghastly things that threatened her. Lupin went on to ask: "What was your husband's name?" She hesitated a moment and answered: "Mergy." He exclaimed: "Victorien Mergy the deputy?" "Yes." There was a long pause. Lupin remembered the incident and the stir which it had caused.
No... Death, simply... You press the point of a long needle on the chest, where the heart is, and insert it gradually, softly and gently. That's all but the point would have been driven by Mme. Mergy.
Daubrecq said nothing and sat silent, with his head turned to Lupin. "Is he looking at me? Are his eyes open or shut?" Lupin asked himself. It worried Lupin terribly not to see his adversary's eyes, those eyes hidden by the double obstacle of spectacles and black glasses: weak, bloodshot eyes, Mme. Mergy had told him.
"Nothing... Nothing... Something that crossed my mind... Clarisse Mergy is a young woman still and a pretty woman at that." Lupin shrugged his shoulders: "You brute!" he mumbled. "You imagine that everybody is like yourself, heartless and pitiless. It takes your breath away, what, to think that a shark like me can waste his time playing the Don Quixote? And you wonder what dirty motive I can have?
And there was a further serious reason for alarm in the fact that Clarisse Mergy thought that she was shadowing and watching Daubrecq at a time when, on the contrary, Daubrecq was watching her, having her shadowed and dragging her, with diabolical cleverness, toward the places selected by himself, far from all help or hope of help. Oh, Daubrecq's game was clear as daylight!
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