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Updated: June 18, 2025
M. Nicole burst into a fresh fit of laughter: "Was simply to go for Daubrecq's eye, that eye 'emptied within so as to leave a void which it is impossible to suspect, the eye which you see before you." And M. Nicole once more took the thing from his pocket and rapped the table with it, producing the sound of a hard body with each rap. Prasville whispered, in astonishment: "A glass eye!"
That being so, why refuse the favourable bargain which Arsene Lupin was now offering him? "I accept," he said. "Here's the address of my shed: 99, Rue Charles-Lafitte, Neuilly. You have only to ring the bell." "And suppose I send Prasville, the secretary-general, instead?"
"I want to know not, of course, if you are empowered to settle this business here and now, but if, in dealing with me, you represent the views of those who know the business and who are qualified to settle it." "Yes," declared Prasville, forcibly. "So that I can have your answer within an hour after I have told you my conditions?" "Yes." "Will the answer be that of the government?" "Yes."
Lupin smiled: "The headquarters of police, isn't it? The secretary-general's office..." "Yes, doctor... How do you know?" "Oh, as a divisional surgeon, I sometimes have to ring them up." And, within himself, Lupin asked: "What the devil does all this mean? The secretary-general is Prasville... Then, what?..." Daubrecq put both receivers to his ears and said: "Are you 822.19?
I shall buy those letters and documents of Stanislas Vorenglade at whatever price he chooses to name. Then we shall go back to the police-office and I shall say to Prasville, 'Go to the Elysee at once ... Use the list as though it were genuine, save Gilbert from death and be content to acknowledge to-morrow, when Gilbert is saved, that the list is forged.
In accordance with orders, the stationmaster had issued instructions that no one was to be admitted to the platform. Prasville, therefore, walked on alone, in front of a number of his men, with Chief-inspector Blanchon at their head. The train drew up. Prasville almost at once saw Stanislas Vorenglade at the window of a first-class compartment, in the middle of the train.
Inside the prison, at the end of the passage containing the condemned cells, the men in black were conversing in low voices. Prasville was talking to the public prosecutor, who expressed his fears: "No, no," declared Prasville, "I assure you, it will pass without an incident of any kind." "Do your reports mention nothing at all suspicious, monsieur le secretaire-general?" "Nothing.
This was his one and only trump, a trump that gave him a liberty of action to which he attached the greatest importance. Without further delay, he opened the letter which Daubrecq had handed him for the secretary-general of police. It contained these few lines: "Within reach of your hand, my dear Prasville, within reach of your hand! You touched it!
Lift your head, Lupin. You have been the champion of outraged morality. Be proud of your work. And now take a chair, stretch out your legs and have a rest. You've deserved it." When Prasville returned, he found Lupin sound asleep and had to tap him on the shoulder to wake him. "Is it done?" asked Lupin. "It's done. The pardon will be signed presently. Here is the written promise."
"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."
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