813.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 9913, 30 July 1910, Page 2

813.

(By MAURICE LEBLANC.) Translated from the French by Alexander Teixeira de Mattos. [All Rights Reserved.] CHAPTER IV.—(Continued.) Slowly and deliberately Sernine loosened the two hands., one after the other, that held him and. in his turn, took the old lady by the! shoulders, forced her into an arm-chair, stooped over her and, in a very calm voifce, said: "Rot!" She began to cry and, clasping her hands together, implored him:

"1 beseech you, leave us in peace. We were so happy! I thought that you bad forgotten us and I blessed Ilea von every time a day hat! passed. Why, yes . . I love you just ■ the same. But Genevieve . . . you see, there's nothing that I wouldn't do for that child. She has taken your place in rav heart."'

"So I perceive," said he, laughing. " You \vouid send me to the devil with Come, no. more nonsense! I ave no time to waste. I must talk to Genevieve." " You're going to talk to her?" . "'Well, is that a crime?" " And what have you to tell her?" " A secret . . . a very grave secret . . . and a very touching one." The old lady took fright: " And one that will cause her sorrow, perhaps? Oh, I fear everything. 1 fear evervthing where she's concerned!"

"Here she comes." he said. " Yes, yes, I hear her. . . . Wipe your eye's and be sensible." " Listen," Raid she, eagerly. " listen. 1" don't know what you are going to say, what secret you mean to reveal to this child whom you don't know. But I. who do know her, tell you this: Genevieve has a very pliieky, very spirited, but very sensitive nature. Be careful how you choose your words. . .

You might wound feelings . . . the existence of which you cannot even suspect." "Lord bless nio! And whv not?"

" Because she belongs to another race than you. to a different world . . . L mean, a diflferont moral world.. . . . There are things which you are forbidden to understand nowadays. Between Vou and her., the obstacle is insurmountable. Genevieve has the most unblemished and upright conscience . . . and vnti. . ." "Awl IP" "And you are not an honest man!" Genevieve entered, bright and charming: "All my baliios have gone to bed : 1 have ten minutes to.spare. . . . Why, grandmother, what's the matter? You look quite upset. ... Is it still that affair P"

"No, mademoiselle," said Semitic, " I believe 1 have had the good fortune to j'eassuro your grandmother. Only wo were talking of you, of your childhood ; and that is a subject, it seems, which yeur grandmother cannot touch upon, without emotion." "Of my childhood?" said Genevieve, reddening. "Oh, grandmother!" " Don't scold her, mademoiselle. The conversation turned in that direction by accident. It so happens that I have often passed through the little village where you were brought up." " Aspreunmivp" " Yes, Aisprenio.it, near Xiee. Von used to live in a new house, white aji over. ,

"Sos/' she said, " white all over, with a, little blue- paint round the windows. . , I Mas only seven years old when ! left Aspreniont; bul ! remember the least things of that period. And 1 have not forgotten the glare of the sun on the white front of the house, nor the shade of tho cucnlypt UN-tree the bottom of the garden." " At, the bottom of the garden, mademoiselle, was a field of olive-trees, under one of which stood a table at which your mother used to work on hot days."

Thai's true, thai s true." she said, quito excitedly. "1 used to plav bv her side. . ."

" And it was there," said, he, "that .1. saw your mother several limes. . .

I recognised, her image the moment I sot eyes on, yon . . but it was a brighter, happier image.'' " Yes, my poor mother was not happy. My father died on Iho very day of my birth, and nothing was ever able to console her. She used to cry a great deal. ! still possess a little handkerchief with which .1 used to dry her tears at that time."

" A little handkerchief with a pink pulteru,"

"What!" she exclaimed, seized with surprise. "Yon know P" "I was there one day when you were consoling her, , and you consoled her so prettily that the seen© remained, impressed on my memory." She gave him a penetrating glance, and murmured, almost to herself:

"Yes, yes. I seem to- The expression of your eyes—and then the sound of your voice " She lowered her eyes for a moment and. reflected, as if she were vainly trying to bring back a recollection that escaped her. And she continued: "Then you knew her?"

'' 1 had some friends living near Aspremont, and used to meet her at their house. The last time I saw her she seemed to me sadder still—paler, and when I came back again-—— " "It was all over, was it not?" said Genevieve. "Yes, she went very quickly—in a few weeks, and I was left alone with neighbours who sat up with her, and one morning they took her away. And on the evening of that day someose came while ; I was asleep ana lifted me up and wrapped me t in blaiy kets." 1

"A man?" asked the prince. "Yes, a man. He talked to me. quite low, very gently. His voice did me good; and, as. he carried me down the read and then in tho carriage dur-ing'-the night, he rocked me in bis arms and told me stories in the same voice—in the same voice—■ —-"

She broke off gradually and looked at him again, more sharply than before, and > with a more obvious effort to seize the fleeting impression that just possed over her at moments. He asked: "And then? Where did he take you?" "I can't recollect clearly; it is just as though T had slept for several days. T can remember nothing before the little town of Montegut, in the Vendee, where I spent second half of my childhood with Father and Mother Izerau. a worthy couple who reared me and brought me up, and whose love and devotion I shall never forget."

" And'did they die too?" "Yes," site said, " nf an epidemic of typhoid, fever in the district, hut I did not -know that until later. As soon as they fell i 11.,,! was carried off as on tho first occasion, and under the same conditions, at night. liv someone who also wrapped me up in Markets: only T w.as bluffer. I struggled, T tried to coll out. rind he h n <l t<> >"l n ~o my mouth with a silk handkerchief." "How old wove you then?" " Fourteen. Ttvwns four years ago." " Then vou were able to seo what the man was like?" "No, he hid his face better, and ho <lid not spsa-1: a single word to me. NeTe.rtlJGless, I hf!.ve always believed him to be the same one, for I remember the same solicitude, the same attentive, careful movements." " And after that?" "After that came obl-non, sleep, as before. This time I v,«.?. ill. it apuea'-s; I was feverish, and ! woke in a bright, cheerful room. A white-haired lady was hemline; over me and smiling. It was grandmother, and tho room was the one in which T now sleep upstairs." She hacl resumed her happy face, her sweet, nulianfc expression: and she onded. with a smile: "That was I:;>'y sho became my grandmother, and how, after a few trials, tho little Asp re mont girl, now knows the delights of a iKaceinl lifo find teaches grammar and arithmetic to littlo fiirls who are cither nanghty or lazv, bu! who are all fond o' me.

She cheerl'idly, in a tone ab Olico thoughtful and and it was obvious that she possessed a reasonable, well-balanced mind. Seruinc listened to her with grawin;; surprise and without trying to com:e:'l his uyitaikm. '• 11 ;ivo you nover heard i-oeak of tlutfc man since!"' " Never." She gave a start. ".Do yon—do you know e.nythiug: ' •'Nd no- only Ho rose and walked up ami down the room. From time to time, his eyes fell upon tlenovieve, and it, leoked :u; if ho was on the point ot' giving a more precise answer to the iiue.stioii which shu had put- to hint. Would he .speak;' Mine. lOnioniout awaited with anguish tile revelation «.i Ihe secret upon which the girl's i'uuire peace might depend. lie sal down Invade (leiioviove, appeared to heMiate. aud said at last: " A recollection V And ■ l" 1 "

" I was mistaken. Year story contained certain details that misled iue. : ' " Ate you Gtiror'" Ho hesitated, and then declared: Absolutely sure."

Oh," said sli.\ greally di.sappoiuted. " I had lia.li' giuvw! thai Hint man whom i saw twice that \oii knew him -tIn:I She diil not. lini.di-hcv .V'uience, hut waited tor an .ms.ver te the question which she had put to lii:u without dating to state it oompleteh. He avhs silent. 'l'lieu., insisting no further, she bent ovev ,vimo. Krno mo ut..

" Good-night, gniiulnuhhe<\ My children must he in be-d by ihis time,

hut they could none of them go to sleep before I had -kissed' tliam." She held out her hand ,to the prince f "Thank you once more." " Aro you going P" he asked, quickly, "Yes, if you will excuse me; grandmother will see you out." ; He bowed low and kissed her hand/ As she opened . the door, she turned round and smiled. Then she disappear ed. The Prince heard the sound ox he* footsteps diminishing in the distance, and stood stock still, his face pal® with emotion. , ; ! ■* ■ . " Well," said the old lady, "w ybo did not speakP" "No." • -

" That secret '' " Later. To-day, oddly enough, I was not able to." < : "Was it so difficult? Did not sha herself feel that you were the etrangeW who took her away twice P- A word would have been enough." "Later, later," he repeated, recovering all his assurance. "You can u% doi'stand—tlie child hardly knows me. l I must first gain the 1 right to her affection. to her love. VVhen I have given -her the life - which she deserves, a inarvellcus life, such as one reads of in fairy tales, then I will speak." The old lady tossed her head. " ; "I very modi fear that you aremak. iug a mistake. Genevieve does not want a marvellous life. She has simple tastes."- 1 ■ : " She has the tastes of all woman) and wealth, luxury and power ' givs ;|ovs which^ not one of them despises." " Yes—Genevieve. And vou would do much bettef " " . We shall see. For the moment, let' me go my own* way. And be quite easy. 1 have not the least intention, as you say, of mixing her up in any of my manoeuvres. She will hardly ever see me. t Only, we had to come into contact, you know. That's done. Good-bye." Ho left the school and walked to where his/ motor-car was waiting for him. He was perfectly happy. " She is charming, and so gentle, so grave! Her mother's eyes, eyes that soften yon." And he said aloud, "Certainly I shall look after her hap-, piness, and that at once! This very evening! That's it—this very evening; she shall have a sweetheart-! Is nc(? love the essential condition of * an£ young girl's happiness?" Ho found his car on the high-road. " Home," he said to Octave. When he reached home he rang up Mouilly and telephoned his instructions to the friend whom he called the doctor. / Then he dressed, dined at tha Rue-Cambon Club, spent an hour at the opera and got into his car again. "Go to, Neuilly. Octave. We're 'o-oino- toTetch the doctor. What's the time?" "Half-past ten." '•'Dash it! Look sharp!" Ten minutes later the car stopped frft the end of the Boulevard Inkerman, outside a villa standing in its own "rounds. The doctor came down at the sound of the hooter. The prince

asked: ' " Is tlie ' individual ' ready? ' " Packed up, strung up. sealed up." " In good condition ?" " h'xreiieut. I'f everything goes a« you telephoned, tho police will be utterlv*at sea." , - s •'•'That's what they're there for. Let's get him on board." They carried into tho motor a sort of long sack shaped like a human being and apparently rather heavy. And the prince said: "Go to Versailles. Octave. Rue de la Yilaino. Stop outside the Hotel dos Deux Empereurs." - i "Why, it's a filthy hotel!" observed the doctor. know it troll <1 icgular hovel." , . ' '•'You needn't tell mo! And it wnl bo a h.ard piece of work —for me, at, k"u;t. lulls hv Jove, 1 wouldn't sell this moment for a fortune! Who dares pretend that life is monotonous f , ' Thov readied the Hotel des Deux! Ktnpereuvs. A muddy alley, two, steps ! down, and they entered a passage lit Ibv a flickering lamp. . • j ' ftnmhio knocked with his fist against | a little door. _ ; The 1 toots appeared. Philippe, th« ' man to whom Sernino )iad given order? i Vo.at morning concerning Gerard Bau/ •• U be h-M'o still?" asked the prinea "V"' - • Lite rope: •• " Tho knot is :n:;do.' " Ho has not received tho telegram he was hoping . ~. „ •' iin 'creeptod it. Here it is." •Scrjti:io look the blue paper and r«s2 1 (>»d!" ho said. "It was high time. This is to promise him a thousand i'nuu's for to-morrow. Come, foriuiio i< on ttiy s'.de. A quarter ta iwolvo -in a tjusrfcov of an hour tli© poor devil will take a leap into etc;nit v. Show u\o klio way, ihuippo. Yini, doctor, s-iay bore." , 'Hie boots took the caiude. Ihe;J {•limbed to the third tloor and, walknitf on tip-too. went along a loiv and ovuj sin oiling corridor, h:i«l with garr.v* I ituri ending in a wooden staircase co? j eroit with I lie must}* remnants ai i | carpel.

"Can no one hear mo?" asked Ser-

r e Nc „ The two rooms are quite detached. But you must bo careful not to make a mistake; he is m the room on the left." . < , . • " Very good. Now, go downstairs. At twelve o'clock the doctor, Octave and you aya to carry up the individual here to where we now stand, and wait till I call you. ' _ The wooden staircase had ten treads, ■which the prince climbed with, infinite caution. At the top was a landing ' -with two doors. ■lt took Sernine quite . flve minutes to open th© one on tne right without breaking the silence with the ,least a grating hinge. : : A light gleamed/ through the darkceesiof the room. Groping his way so as not to.knock against one ol tne chairs, lie made for that light. It came from the next room, and filtered through a glazed door covered with a tattered hanging. , ' ~ H The prince -pulled the threadbare etuff aside. .The panes were of ground < class, hut scratched in • parts,? so that by applying one eye it was easy, to see all that happened in the other room. < Sernine saw a man seated at a table Pacing him. It was Gerard Baupre. He was writing by. the light ot a Dandle. Above his head hung a rope, which .was fastened to n hook fixed in ifcho ceiling. At the end of the rope .was a slip-knot. : i i A faint stroke sounded, from a clock •In the street. „ ~ ii Five minutes to twelve, thought gernine. "Five minutes more." i The young man was still writing. 'After a moment he put down his pen, Collected the ten or twelve'sheets of baper which he had covered,' and began to , read them oveir. . ■ What he read did not seem to -please him,i for an expression of discontent passed' across his -face. - He tore up fcs manuscript and burnt the. pieces in. the flanie 'of the candle, v Then with a fevered hand ho wrote a few words on o, clean sheet, signed it savagely, and rose from his chair. But seeing the , rope at ten inches above his head he eat down again suddenly with a great shudder of alarm. , ■ ! • Sernine distinctly saw his pale featnres, his lean cheeks, against which he pressed his , clenched lists. A tear trickled slowly down his face—a single, disconsolate tear. His eyes gazed; into ppaqe, eyes terrifying in their unutterable sadness, eyes that ( already seemed to behold the dread unknown. And it *vas bo young, a facel. Cheeks still go pmooth, with- not a blemish, not a crinkle. And. blue eyes, blue like an ftaatorn sky* ' i Midnight, the twelve tragic strokes iof midnight, to, which so many a des- ! pairing man has hitched the last se- ' cond of his, existence. At the twelfth stroke he stood up again and, bravely this time, without trembling, looked at the sinister'rope. He even tried to give a smile—na, poor smile, the pitiful crimace of, the doomed man whom death has, already seized for its' own. Swiftly he climbed the chair and took the rope in one hand. .For a moment he stood there motionless, not that he Veas hesitating or J&clri n g in courage. ' But this was r the supreme moment,. the ' one minute of'; grace which a man allows himself 'before the fatal deed. He gazed at, the squalid room to which his evil destiny had brought him—tho hideous paper on the walls, the wretched bed. On the table, not a book, all were sold; not a photograph, not a, , letter; he had no father, no mother, 'no relations. What was there to make iim'ciing to life? With a sudden movement, he put jfcis head into the slip-knot and pulled, tit the rope until the noose gripped his nook. And, kicking the chair from him with both feet, he leapt into apace. ■■ ■ •

' Ten seconds, fifteen wftwrtls passed,

formidable, second

fhe body gttvetwo or thrae jerks. The t had instinctively felt for a restingplace. Thon nothing moved. \ A fenr second mere. . . The little glazed door opened. Sernino entered. "Without the leasfc haste, he took the Sieet of paper to which the young man ad eet his signature, and! read: '■ " Tired of living, ill, penniless, bowless. I am taking my owii life. Let to one be accused of my death. Gerard jiaupro. April SO." ! He put hack the paper on the table where it could be seen, picked up the phair and placed it/under the young plan's feet. _ He,himself climbed up on the table and, holding the body cliose to him, lifted it up, loosened the slipknot, and passed the head through it. \. The body .Sank into his arms. He jot it slide along the_ table, and, jumpJmr to the ground, laid it on the bed. Then, with the same coolness, -ho jrpenod the door on the passage: ! " Are you there, all the three of jrouP" he whispered. 1 Someone answered, from, the foot of %he wooden staircase near him: I •" We are here. Are we to hoist up; tour bundle?'! j " Yes, come along!" He took the candle and showed them $ .light. The three men trudged up the stairs, earrying the sack in which " the individual was tied up. - <■ " Put him there," he said, pointing to the table. I With a pocket-knife, he cut the cords Jpoundi the eack. A white sheet appeared, which he thrust aside. In the gheefc was a corpse, the corpse of Fierio Leduc: f "Poor Pierre Leduc!" said Sernine. )' You will never know what you lost bv /lying so young! I should have helped frou to go far, old chap. However, we mufit do without your services. Now, Ibhen, Philippe, get up on the table, Vnd you, Octave, on the chair. Lift up jiia lieucl and fasten the slip-knot." ■ 1 ' Two minutes later Pierre Leduc's was swinging at the end of the rope- > " Capital, that was quite simple! Jfow you can all of you go. You, doctor, will call back here to-morrow morning. You will hear of the suicide of a certain Gerard Baupre—you understand, Gerard Baupre; hero is his farewell fetter—you will have the divisional surgeon and the commissary sent for; you will so arrange that neither of phem notices that the deceased has a fcut finger or a scar on one cheek.". 4 ' Tliat's easy." " And you will manage so as to have the report written then and there, to fcour dictation." " That's easy." ' " Lastly, avoid having: the body sent to the morgue and make them give permission for an immediate >burial. ! ' • "That's not so easy." " Try. Have you examined the other

>ue?" He pointed to the young man lying lifeless on the bod. "Yes," said the doctor. "The breathing is becoming normal. But it Hvas a big risk to run . . . the carotid fertorv might have ..." " Nothing venture, nothing have . . . Jlow soon will, he recover consciousness P" "In a few minutes. " Then go and wait for me downrtaira. I shall want you. There is jtnore for you to do." The Prince, when lie found himself lit a cigarette and puffed *.fc it

quietly, sending little blue rings of smoke floating up to the ceiling. A sigh roused him from his thoughts. He went towards the bed. The young man was beginning to move, and his chest rose and fell violently, like that of a sleeper under the influence of a nightmare. He put his hands to his throat, as though he felt a pain there; and this action suddenly made him sit up, terrified, panting, covered with perspiration. Then he saw Sernine in front of him. "You?" he muttered, without understanding; "You?" ; He gazed at him stupidly, as though he had. seen a ghost. He again touched his throat, felt round his neck. And suddenly he gave a hoarser cry a mad terror dilated his Ayes, made his hair stand on end, shook him from bead to foot like an aspen* loaf I The 1 Prince had moved aside; and he saw the man's corps© hanging from the rope. He flung himself hack against the wall. That man, that hanged man, was himself! Ho waS dead, and he was looking at his own dead body! 1 Wae this a hideous dream that follows upon death? A hallucination' that comes to those who are no-more, and whose distracted brain still quivers with a last flickering gleam of life? His arms struck at the air. For a moment, he seemed to be defending himself against the sordid vision. Then, axhausted, a second time he fainted away. " First-rate," said the Prince, with a grin. "'A sensitive, impressionable nature. At present, the brain is out of gear. Come, this is a propitious moment. But if I don't get the business done in twenty minutes—he'll escape me."

He pushed open the door between the two garrets, came back to the bed, took the young man and carried him to the bed in the other room. Then be bathed his temples with cold water and made him shiff at some salts.

This time the swoon did not last long. Gerard timidly opened hia eyes and raised them to the ceiling. The vision was gone. But the arrangement of the furniture, the position of the table and the fireplace, certain other details, all surprised him—arid then came the remembrance of his act, the pain which he felt at the throat. He-said to the Prince:

" I have had a dream, have I not?" "No."

"How do yoil meaai, no?" And, suddenly, recollecting. "Oh, that's true, I remember. I meant to kill myself—and I even Bending forward anxiously. "But the rest, the vision " " What vision P"

" The man—the rope—was that a dream?" "No," eaid Sernine. "That also was real." 1

"What are you sayingP What are you saying? uh, no, no. I entreat you! Wake me if lam asleep—or> else let me die I But lam dead, am I not P And this is the nightmare of a corpse! Oh, I feel my brain going! I entreat you." ' ; Sernine placed, his hand gently on the young man's head, and, bending over him: , . " Listen to me . . . listen to me carefully and understand what I say. You are alivo. Your matter and your mind are as thoy were and live. But Gerard Baupre, is dead. You understand me, don't you? That member of the social system who, was known as Gerard Baupre has ceased to exist. You have done away witb _ that one. 'lVmorrow, the registrar will write 1 in his books, opposite the name you bore, the word ' dead,' with the date of your decease." "It's a lie," stammered the terrified lad. "It's a, lie 1 Considering that I, Gerard Baupre, am here!" " You are not Gerard Baupre," declared Sernine. And, pointing to the open door, " Gerard Baupre is there, in tho next room. Do you wish to see him? He is hanging from-the nail to which you hooked him. On th» table is a letter in which you certify his death with your signature. It is all quite regular, it is all finai. JThere i 3 no getting awajy from ffte irrevocable, brutal fact: Gerard Baupre has ceased to exist!"

The young man listened in despair. Growing calmer, now that facts were assuming a less tragic significance, he began to understand: "And then ?" he muttered.. " And then—let us talk."

"Yes, yes—let us talk." "A cigaretteP" asked the Prince. "Will you have one? All, I see that you are becoming reconciled to life! So much the'better; we shall understand each other, and that quickly." Ho lit the young man's cigarette and his own, and, at once, in a few words uttered in a sharp voice, explained himself:

" You, the late Gerard Baupre, wero weary of life, ill, penniless, hopeless. Would you like to be well, rich and powerful?" " I don't understand."

"It is quite simple. Accident has placed you on my path. You are young, good-looking, a poet; you are intelligent, and—your act of despair shows it —you have a fine sense of conduct. These are qualities which are rarely found in one person. I esteem them—and I take them for my account." " They are not for sale." '' Idiot! Who is talking of sale or purchase? Keep your conscience. It is too precious a jewel for mo *to rid you of it." ' " Then what do you ask of me?" . "Your life!" And, pointing to the bruises on the young man's throat, "your life, which you have not known how to employ! Your life, which you have bungled, wasted, destroyed { and which I propose to build up again, in accordance with an ideal of beauty, greatness and dignity that would make you giddy, my lacl, if you saw the abyss into which my secret thought plunges." He had taken Gerard's head between his hands t and he continued, "You arc free! No shackles! You have no longer the weight of your name to bear! You have got rid of that number with which society had stamped you as though branding you on tho shouldor. You are free! In this world of slaves whore each man bears his label, you can either come and go unknown, invisible, as if you owned Gyges's ring—or elee you can choose your own label, the one you like best! Do you understand? Do you understand the magnificent treasure which you represent to an artist—to yourself, if you like ? A virgin life, a brand-new lire! Your life is the wax which you have the right to fashion as you please, according to the whims of your imagination and the counsels of your reason." The young man made a gesture of weariness. , " Ah, what would you have me do with that treasure ? What have I done with it so farP Nothing!" " Give it to me."

" What can you do with it?" " Everything! If you are not an artist, I am; and an enthusiastic artist, inexhaustible, indomitable, exuberant. If you have not tho Promethean fire, I have. Where you failed, I shall succeed. Give me jour life."

" Words, promises!" cried tho young man, whose features began to glow with animation. " Empty dreams I I know my own. worthlessness! I know my cowardice, my despondonoy, my efforts that come to nothing, all my wretchedness. To begin, life anew, 1 should need a will which I do not possess."

"I possess mine." "Friends " " You shall have them.' "Means "

" I am providing you with means — and such means! You will only have to dip, as ono would dip into a magic coffer."

" But who are you?" cried the young man, wildly. " To others, Prince Sernine; to you ■ —what does it matter? I am more than a prince, more than a king, more than an emperor." "Who are you? Who are you?" stammered Baupre. "The Master—lie who will and who can—he who acts. There are no bounds to my will, there is none to my power. lam richer than the richest man alive, for his fortune belongs to me. lam more powerful than the mightiest, for their might is at any service I" / Ho took the other's head in his hands again, and. looking deep into his eyes : "Be rich too—be mighty. I offer yoU happiness, and the joy of living, and peace for your poet's brain, and fame and glory also. Do you accept?" " Yes, yes," whispered Gerard, dazzled and overmastered. "What am I to do?"

" Nothing." "But—»

" Nothing, I say. The whole scaffolding of my plans rests On you, but you do not count. You have no active part to play. You are, for the moment, but a silent actor, or not even that, but just a pawn which I move along the board." " What shall I do?"

".Nothing. Write poetry! You shall live as you please. You shall have money. You shall enjoy life. 1 will not even bother my head about you. I repeat, you play no part in my venture." "Aii<l who shall I be?"

. Sernine stretched out his arm and pointed to the next room. " You shall take that man's place. You are that man I" " Oh, 110, he is dead I And then—it's a crime I No, I want a new life made for me, thought out for me—an unknown name." *

"That man, I tell you!" cried Sernine, irresistible in his energy and authority. "You shall be that man and none other! That man, because his destiny, which he also foolishly bungled, because his destiny is magnificent, because his name is illustrious, and because he hands down to you a thrice venerable heritage of dignity arid pride." " It is a,crime!" moaned Baupre, faltering. "You shall be that maul" spoke Sernine, with unparalleled vehemence. " You shall bo that man! If hot, you become Baupre again; and over 33auEre I own rights of life and death, hoose." He drew his revolver, cocked it and took aim at the young man. " Choose," he repeated. . The expression of his face was implacable. Gerard was frightened, and sank down on his bed, sobbing: " I wish to live!"

"You.wish it firmly, irrevocablyP" "Yes! A thousand times yes! After the terrible thing which I attempted, death appals me. Anything—anything rather than death i Anything—pain, hunger, illness, every torture, every shame, crime even, if need be, but not death!"

He shivered with fever and agony, as though the great enemy were still ftrowling round him and as though he elt himself powerless to escape from its clutches. The prince redoubled his efforts and, in a caustic voice, holding liim under him like a prey: "I will ask nothing impossible •. of you, nothing wrong. If there is anything, I am responsible. . . No, no crime . .. . a little pain at most . . . a little of your blood must flow. But what is that compared with the dread of dying?" " Pain is indifferent to me." "Then here and now!" shouted Sernine. "Here and now- Ten seconds of paiu and that is all. Ten seconds and the other's life is yours." He had seized him round th© body and forced him down on a chair; and ho now held the young, man's left hand flat on the table, with the five fingers spread out. He swiftly took a knifo from his pocket, pressed the blade against the little finger, between the first and second joint, and commanded: "Strike! Strike your own blow! One blow of the fist and that is all!" He had taken Gerard's right hand and was trying to.bring it down upon the other like a hammer.

Gerard writhed and twisted, convulsed with horror. He understood.

"Never!" he stuttered. "Never!" "Strike! One blow and it's done! One blow and you will be like that man; no one will recognise you." " Tell me his name. "Strike first!"

"Never! Oh, what torture!... . . I beseech, you . . . presently. . " Now ... I insist. . . . you imisti." " No ... no ... I can't do it." "Strike, you fool! It means fortune, fame, love." Gerard raised his first with a sudden movement.

" Love," ho said, "yes . . . for that, yes," " You will love and be loved," said Sernine. "Your betrothed awaits you. I have chosen her myself. ■ She is the purest of the pure, the fairest of the fair. But you must win her. Strike!" The lad's arm stiffened for the f:»tal blow; but the instinct of _ self-prelcrvfl-tion was too strong for him. His rwiy was wrung with a superhuman c!fi>it. Ho suddenly released himself from Soriano's hold and fled. He rushed like a madman, tii the other room. A yell of terror escaped him at the sight of the abominable vision, and li£ came back and 'oil on his knees before Sernine, beside ihe table.

"Strike!" said the prince, again spreading out the lad's fingers and fixing tho blade of the knife.

What followed was done mechanically. With an automatic movement, with haggard eyes and a livid face, the young man raised his fist and struck. "Ah!" lie cried, with si moan of pain. A small piece of flesh was separated from tho little finger. Blood flowed. Eor the 1 third time, Gerard fainted. Sernine looked at him for a second or two and said, gently : "Poor little chap! There, I'll reward you for what you've done; and a hundred times ovor. I always pay generously." He went downstairs and found the doctor waiting below. "It's done. Go upstairs, you. and make a little, cut in his right cheek, similar to Pierre Leduc's. The two

scars must be exactly alike. 1 shall come back for you in an hour." "Where are you going?" "To take the air. My heart feels anyhow." Outside, he drew a long breath and lit another cigarette. "A good day's work," he muttered. " A little overcrowded, a little tiring, but fruitful, really fruitful. I am Dolores Kesselbach's friend. I am Genevieve's friend. I have manufactured a new Pierre Leduc, a very presentable one and entirely at.my disposal. Lastly, I have found Genevieve a husband of the sort that you don't find by the dozen. Nov/ my task is done. I have only to gather the fruit of my efforts. It's your turn to work, M. Lenormand. I, for my. part, am ready." And he added, thinking of the poor mutilated lad, whom he had dazzled with, his promises, " Only—for there is an ' only I have not the slightest notion who this Pierre Leduc was, whose place I have magnanimously awarded to that , good young man. And that's very annoying. For, when all is said, there's nothing to prove to me that Pierre Leduc was not the son of a pork-butcher I"

CHAPTER VM. LKNOIIMAND AT WOKK

On the morning of the 31st of May all the newspapers reminded their readers that Lupin, in a letter addressed to M. Lenormand, had announced the escape 'of the messenger Jerome for that date. And one of them summed up the situation as it then stood in very able terms: " The horrible carnage at the Palace Hotel took place as; far back as the 17th of April. What has been discovered since ? , Nothing. . , "There were three clues: the cigar-ette-case, the initials L. and M. and the parcel of clothes left behind in the offico of the hotel. What advantage has been taken of these clues? None. "It appears that the police suspect one of the visitors who was staying on the first floor and who disappeared in a doubtful manner. Have they found him? Have they established his identity? No. 14 The tragedy, therefore, remains as mysterious as at the beginning; the gloom, is impenetrable. "To complete the picture, we are told, that there' is a dissension between the prefect of police and his subordinate, M. Lenormand, and that the latter, finding himself l«ss vigorously supported by the Prima. Minister, virtually sent'in his resignation several days ago. According to information, the conduct of the case is now in the hands of the deputy-chief of the detective service, M. Weber, a personal enemy of M. Lenormand's. "In short, disorder and confusion reign; and this in the face of Lupin, who stands for method, energy and steadfastness of min/J. " What conclusion do wo draw from these facts? Briefly, this: Lupin will release -his accomplice to-day, the 31st of May; as he foretold." This conclusion, which was echoed in all the other newspapers, was also the conclusion at which the general public had arrived. ' And we must take it that th© threat wa's not considered devoid of importance ia high places, for the prefect of police an-cl, in the absence of M. Lenormand, who was said to be unwell, the deputy-chief of the detective service, M. , We"ber, had

adopted the most stringent measures, both at the Palais tie Justice and at tho Prison do la Santo, where the prisoner was confined. They did not dare, for sheer reasons of shame, to suspend on that particular day tho examinations conducted daily by M. Formerie; but-, from the prison to tho Boulevard du Palais, a regular mobilisation of police _ forces guarded the streets along the line. To the intense astonishment of one and all, the 31st of May passed and the threatened escape did not take One'thing did happen, an attempt to execute'the plan, as was betrayed by a block of tramway-cars, omnibuses and drays along the road taken by tho pri-son-van and the unaccountable breakinw of ono of the wheels of the van itself. But the attempt assumed no more definite form than that. Lupin had, therefore, met with a check. Tho public felt almost disappointed, and tho police triumphed loudly. rl , , On the next day, Saturday, an incredible rumour spread through the Palais and the newspaper offices. Jerome, the messenger, had disappeared. Was it possible? Although the special editions confirmed the news, people refused to believe it. But, at six o'clock, a not© published by tho " Nouvello du Soir" made it . official : "Wo have received tho following communication signed by Arsene Lupin. ■ Tho special stamp affixed to it, in accordance with the circular which Lupin recently addressed to the Press, guarantees the genuineness of the document / "' To the Editor of the " Nouvello du Soir." Sir,-—Pray make my apologies to the public for not keeping my word yesterday. I remembered, at the last moment, that the 31st of May fell on a Friday. Could I set my friend at liberty on a Friday? 1 did not think it right to take that responsibility upon inysclf. I must also apologise for not on this occasion explaining, with my customary frankness, how this little event was managed. My process is so . ingenious and so simple that I fear if I revealed it, every criminal should be inspired by it. How surprised people will be on the day when lam free to speak! Is that all, I shall be asked? That is all, but it had to be thought of. Permit me to be, sir. your obedient servant, Arsene Lupin."

An hour later, M. Lenormand was rung up on the telephone arid informed that Valenglay, the Prime Minister, wished to seve him at the Ministry of the Interior.

1 ' How well you are looking, my dear Lanormand ! And I who thought that you were ill and dared not leave your room!" "I am not ill, M. Ie President."

"So you a.re sulking in your tent! . . . But you were always a badtempered fellow."

'' T confess to the bad temper, M. le President, but not to the sulking." "But you stay at home! And Lupin takes advantage of it to release his friends." " How could I stop him?"

My "joints are all cold," said the cook; The back of my "tongue" Ls quite "raw," I'm just " overdone," I feol terribly crook. With a pain, liko ;i " boil" on my jaw. My "flesh" is quite "chilled": it's the "flu." I'll not take " pot" luck, .said this stewer; I'll get what is beet, old or new, That's Woods' Great Peppermint Cur*. * 12

. "How? "Why, Lupin's trick was of the plainest. In accordance with his usual method, he announced the date of the escape beforehand; everybody believed in it; an apparent attempt was planned; the. escape was uot made; and on the next day. when nobody. is thinking about it —whoosh ! —• the bird takes! flight." "M. le President," said the chief of the detective service, .solemnly, "Lupin disposes of such means that we are not in a position to prevent what he has decided on. The escape was mathematically certain. I preferred to pass the hand, and leave the laughter for others to face." Valenglay chuckled: "It's ia fact that M. lo Prefect do Police and M. Weber cannot bo enjoying themselves at the present moment. •But, when all is said, can you explain to me, M. Lenormand . . . " All that wo know, M. le President, is that the escape took place from the Palais de Justice. The prisoner was brought in a prison van, and taken to M. Formerie's room. He* left M. Formerie's room, but he did not leave the Palais de Justice. And yet nobody knows what became of him.'' "It's most bewildering." " Most bewildering." "And has nothing else been discovered?"

" Yes. The inner corridor leading to the examining magistrates' rooms was blocked by an absolutely unprecedented crowd of prisoners, warders, counsel and doorkeepers; and it was discovered that all these people had received forged notices to appear at the same hour. On the other hand, not one of the examining magistrates who were supposed to have summoned them sat in his room that day; and this because of forged notices from the public prosecutor's offico sending them to every part of Paris—and of the outskirts." "Is that all?"

" No. Two municipal guards Kud a prisoner wore seen to cross the courtyards. A cab was waiting for them outsido and all three stepped in." " And your supposition, Lenormand; your opinion——" "My supposition, M. lo President, is that the two. municipal guards wero accomplices .who, profiting by the disorder in the corridor, took the place of the three warders. And my opinion is that this escape was only able to succeed thanks to euch special circumstances and so strange> a combination of facts that wo 'must look upon the most unlikely cases of complicity as absolutely certain. Lupin,, for that matter, has connections at the Palais that baulk all our calculations. He has agents in vour Ministry. He has agents at the Prefecture of Police. He has agents around me. It is a formidable organisation, a detective sorvico a thousand times more clever, more daring, more varied and more supple than that which is under my orders."

" And vou stand this, Lenormand?" " No,. 1 do not." " Then why this slackness on your part since, the beginning of the case? What have you done against .Lupin?" "I have prepared for the. struggle." "Ah, capital! And, while you wero, preparing, he was acting." "So hare I." \ ' 1 " And do you know anything?'' "I know a great deal." "What? Speak!" Leaning on his stick, M. Lenormand took a litle contemplative walk across the spacious room. Then he sat down opposite Valenglay, brushed the facings of his olive-green coat with his finger-tips, settled, , his silver-rimmed spectacles on his nose and said, plainly:

"M. le President, 1 hold three trump-cards in my hand. First, I know the name under which Arsene Lupin is hiding at this moment, the name under which he lived on the Boulevard Hausemann, receiving his . assistants daily, reconstructing and directing his gang." "But then why, in heaven's name, don't you arrest him?" " The prince—let us call him Prince Dash—-has disappeared. He is abroad, on other business." -

" And, if lie does not return?'' , \ " The position which he occupies, the •manner iu 'which', ho has embarked in the Kesselbach ease, necessitate his return and under the same name." " Nevertheless——"

"M. le President,- I come to my second trump. I have at last discovered Pierre Luduc."

' Nonsense!"

"Or rather_ Lupin discovered 'him and, before disappearing, settled hijn in a little villa in the neighbourhood of Paris."

"By Jove! B«t how did you know?"

Oh, easily! Lupin has placed two of his accomplices with Pierre Luduc, to watch him and defend him. Now these aocomplices are two of my own detectives; two brothers whom I employ in the greatest secrecy and who will hand him over to mo at the first' opportunity." Well done you ! So that——" : "So that, as Pierre Luduc, we may say, is the central . point upon which all the efforts converge of those who are trying to solve the famous Kesselback secret. 'I shall, sooner or later, through Pierre Leduc, catch first the author of the treble murder, because that miscreant substituted himself for Mr Kesselbach in the accomplishment of a magnificent plan and because Mr Kesselbach required to find Pierre Leduc in order to be able to accomplish that plan; nnd secondly, Arsene Lupin, because Arseno Lupin ip pursuing the same object." " Splendid! Pierre Leduc is the bait which you are throwing to the enemy."

< " And the fish is biting, M. le President. I have just had word that a Suspicious person was seen, a short time ago, prowling round the '-"little villa where Pierre Leduc is living under the protection of my officers. I shall be on the spot in four hours." " And the third trump, Lenormand?"

"M. le President, a > letter arrived yesterday addressed to Mr Rudolf Kesselbach, which I intercepted "Intercepted, eh? You're getting on I" ,;

"Yes. intercepted, opened and kept for myself. Hero it- is. It is dated two months back. It benrs the Cap*? Town postmark and contains these words, ' My dear Rudolf, I shall be in Paris 011 the first of Juno, and in just as wretched a plight as wheal you came to my assistance. But X havo great hopes of this Pierre Leduc affair of which I told you. What a strange story it is I Have you found the man 1 moan? Where do wo stand? . I am most anxious to know.' The letter is signed ' Steinweg.' 1 lie first of June/' continued M. Lenormand, "is to-day. I have ordered one of my inspectors to hunt me out this Steinweg. I have no doubt that ho will succeed." " Nor I, no doubt at all ; " cried Valenglay, rising from his chair, "and I make you every apology, ray dear Lenormand, and my humble confession. I was on the point of letting you slide —for pood and all! To-morrow I waa expecting the Prefect of Police and M. Weber.'' " I knew that, M. le President." " Impossible!'" 5 But for that. Should I have put myself out? You now seo mv plan of campaign. On the one side I am setting traps in which the murderer will be caught sooner or later. Pierre Leduc or Steinweg will deliver liim into my hands. On the other side, I am on Arsene Lupin's heels. Two of his agents are in my pay, and he believes them to be his most _ devoted helpers. In addition to this, he is working for me, because he is pursuing the perpetrator of the threefold crime as I am. Only, he imagines that ho is dishing me, whereas it is I who am dishing him. So I shall succeed, but on one condition." " What is thatP"

"That I am given free scope and allowed to act according to the needs of the moment, without troubling about the public, who aro growing impatient, or my superior, who is intriguing against me." "I agree,"

"In that case, M. lo President, in a few days from this I shall be the victor—or .1 shall bo dead." ,

At Saint-Cloud. A little villa situated on one of the highest, points of the upland, in an unfrequented road. It was eleven o'clock at night. _M. Lenormand had left his car at SaintCloud and was walking cautiously along the road. A shadow appeared. ' "is that you, Gourel?" "Yes, chief.'' "Did you tell tiie brothers Doudeville that I was coming?" "Yes, your room is ready; you can go to bed and sleep, unless they try to carry off Pierre Leduc to-night-, which would not surprise me, considering the behaviour of the fellow whom the Douduvilleg saw."

They walked across the garden, softly entered the house, and went up to the first floor. The two brothers. Jean and Jacques Doudeville, were there. "No news of Prince Sernine?" asked Lenormand. " No, chief."

"What- about Pierre LeducP"

"He spends tho whole day lj'ing flat on his back in his room on the ground floor, or else in the garden. He never comes up to see us." "Is he better?" "Much better. Rest has made. a marked difference in his appearance." "Is ho wholly devoted to Lupin?" " To Prince Sernine, rather, for he does not suspect that the two are one and tho same man.- At least, I suj>pose so. One never knows with; him. He does not speak at all. Oh, lie's a queer fish! There's only one person who has the gift of cheering him up, of making him talk, and even laugh. That's a young girl from Garches, to whom Prince Sernine introduced him. Genevieve Ernemont her name is. She has been here three times already—she ivas here to-day." He added jestingly, " I believe there's a little flirting ,?,oing on . . . It's like his Highness Prince Sernine and Mrs Kesselbacl'.. ... It seems he's making eyes at her! That confounded Lupin!" M. Lenormand did not reply. But it was obvious that all these details, to which he <seeined to attach no importance, had been noted in the recesses of his memory, to be'used whenever lie might need to draw the logical conclusions from them. He lit a cigar, chewed it without smoking it, lit it again and dropped it. He asked two or three more questions, and then, dressed as he was, threw himself, on his bed. " If the least thing happens let me be awakened. . . . If not, I shall sleep through the night. . Go to your posts, all.of you." The others left the room. An hour passed; two hours. Suddenly M. Lenormand felt sdmeone touch him, and "Gourel said to him: ■"Get up,'chief; they have opened the gate." . ■ * "One man or two?"

"I only saw one . the moon appeared just then . ho crouched down against the hedge." " And the brothers Doudevilld?" - "I sent them out by the back. . They will cut off his retreat when the time comes."

Gourel took M. Lenormand's hand, led him downstairs and then into a little dark room. _ ) "Don't stir, chief; we are in Pierre Leduc's dressing-room. ... lam opening the door of the recess in which, his bed stands. . . . Don't be afraid . . :

he has taken his veronal as he does every evening ... nothing can wake him. Come this way. ... Ah, it's, a good hiding-jjlace! . . . • These are the curtains of his bed. . . . From liere you can see thejyindow and the whole side of the room between the window and the bed."

Tho casement stood wide open and admitted a . vague light, which became very precise at times, when the moon burst through her veil of clouds. The two men did not take their eyes from the empty window-framo, feeling certain that the event which thov were awaiting would come from that side. A slight creaking noise. . . . "He is climbing the trellis," whispered Gourel. , . "Is-it high ?" "Six feet or sn." - , Tho creaking became more distinct. "Go, Gourel," muttered M. Lenormand., "find the- Doudevilles, bring them back to the foot, of the wall and bar tho road to anyone who tries to get down this way." Gourel went. At the same moment Isi head appeared at the level of the window. Then a leg was flung_ over the balcony. M. Lenormand distinguished a slenderly-built man, below the middle height, dressed in dark colours and .without a hat. <

The man turned, and loaning over the balcony, looked for a few seconds into space, as though to make sure that ho danger threatened him. Then he stooped down and lay at full length on the floor. He appeared motionless. But soon M. Lenormand realised that the still blacker shadow which he formed against the surrounding darkness was coming forward, nearer. It reached the bed.

M. Lenormand had an impression that he could hear the man's breathing, .and at tho same time that he could almost see his eyes, sharp, glittering eyes which pierced the darkness like shafts of fire and which themselves could see through that same darkness. Pierre Leduc gave a deep sigh aud turned over. A fresh silence. ...

• The man had glided along the bed with imperceptible movements, and his dark outline now stood out against the whiteness of the sheets that lumg down to the floor.

M. Lenormand could have touched him by puting out his arm. This time ho clearly distinguished the breathing, winch alternated with that of tho sleeper, and ho had tho illusionHhat he also hoard the sound of a heart heating. ' Suddenly, a flash of light. . . . The man had pressed tho spring of an electric projection _ lamp, and Pierre Leduc was lit full in tho face, but the man remained in the shade, so that M. Lenormand was unable to see his features.

All that he' saw was something that j shone in the bright space; and he shuddered. It was tho blade of a knife; and that thin, tapering knife, more like a stiletto than a dagger, seemed to him identical with the weapon which he had picked up by the body of Chapman, Mr Kesselbach's secretary. Ho put forth all his will power to restrain himself from springing ivpon the man. He wanted first to know what tho man had come to do. Tho hand was raised. Was no going to strike? M. Lenormand calculated the distance in order to stop the How. . . . But no, it was not a murderous gesture, but one of caution. The hand would only fall if Pierre Leduc stirred or tried to call out. And the man bent over the sleeper, as though ho was examining something. "The right cheek," thought M. Lenormand. "The scar on tho light cheek. . . . He wants to make sure that it is really Pierre Leduc.' * The man had turned a littlo to 1 cue side, so that only his shoulders Tvtre visible. But his clothes, his overcoat, were so near that they brushed against the curtains behind which M. Lfc<jormaml was hiding. "One movement on his part," thought the chief-detective, "a Ihrill of alarm, and I lay hold of him." But the man, entirely absorbed in his examination, did not stir. At la.st, after>'shifting the dagger to the hind that held the lantern, he raised'the sheet, at first hardlv at all, then a little more, then more still, uutil the sleeper's left arm was uncovered and tho hand laid bare. The flash of tho lantern shone upon the hand. The lingers Jay outspread. The littlo finger was cut on the second joint. Again Pierre Leduc made a movement. The light was immediately put,

out-; aud, for an instant, the mail remained beside the bed, motionless, standing straight up. Would he make up liis mind to strike? M. Lenoraaad underwent the agony of the crime which he could so easily prevent. biit which he did not want to forestall before the very last second. A long, a von- long siTwac!©, Stjfr denlv lie jsaxv, or ra.ther fancied that iw saw,* an arm uplifted. 1 Instinctively h* moved, stretching his hand above tb* 6leeper. In making this gesture, he hns against the jnaii. A dull cry. The fellow struck out at space, defended himself' at random and fled towards the window. Bub M. Lenormand had leapt upon'him and had Mis two arms round the man's shoulders; 5:

He at once felt'him yielding and, lis ■the weaker of the two, powerless in. Lenormand'<? hands, trying to avoid the struggle and to slip from.,between-his arms, Lenormand; exerting 611 . -his strength, hold him flat against his chest, bent him in two and stretched him on his back on the floor.

" Ah, I've got him! I've got him ! J ' he muttered, triumphantly. _ And he felt a singular elation it imprisoning that terrifying criminal in his irresistible grp. lie felt him living and quivering, enraged and desperate, their two ; lives mingled, their breaths blended. -L " Who are you?" he asked. "' Who are you? . . . You'll have to speak." And ho clasped the enemy's body with still greater force, for he had an, impression that that body was diminishing between his arms, that it was vanishing. He gripped harder . . and harder ... J And suddenly he shuddered from head to foot. He had felt, ho still felt a "tiny little prick la the throat . . ? . In his exasperation, he gripped harder yet; the pain increased! And lie observed 'that the man, had succeeded-in twisting one arm round, slipping hand to his chest and holding the dagger on end. The arm, it was tnioy was incapable of motion; but the closer 3dLenormand tightened his jgrip, the deeper did tho point of the dagger enter the proffered flesh. He flung back his head a little-to escape the point; the point followed the movement and tho wound-• widened....... Then he moved no more, -remembering thb three crimes and all the alarming, attocious and prophetic things, i*epresented by that same little st<Bel needle which was piercing his skin and, ' which, in its turn, was implacably penetrating . . . Suddenly, lie let go and gave a leap backwards. Then, at once, he tried to resume the offensive. It was too late. The man ; flung his legs across the wih-dow-sill and jumped. "Look out, Gourel!" he cried, killing that Gourel was tHero, ready' to catch the fugitive. ' _ He, leant/out. A crunching, of. tables . . . a shadow between two vthe, slam of the gate . .. . And no-other i sound >y no interference . _■ Without giving a thought to Pierro Leduc, he called: , ' ■ i - " Gourel! .. . Doudeville!" . - No answer. Hie great,silence of the country at nightIn spite of: himself, .he ; continued to think' of the treble murder,, the steel dagger. But no, it was impossibleThe man had not had time, had not; even had need to strike, as • hc-..h;j.d found the road clear. .- . M. Lenormand jumped out in his ' turn, and, switching oil. his lantern, searched' the -darkness.- ■ ' . Tt did not take long.- Quite close him lav the body of a man; and, bending over it, lie recognised Gourel; - '•'Damn it'." he swore.' "Tf they've , killed him, they'll have to • pay dearly for it." - . '-.-: v

But Gourel was not dead, only stunned ; and, a few minutes later, ho,ca7*\e to himself and growled. t ■- & "Only a blow of the fist, chief just a. blow of the fist which caught me full in the chest. But what a fellow !" , " There were two of them then r ' "Yes, a little oho. who went up. and another who took int) 11113 wares while I was watching." ■: " And the Doudevillos?" -J ,•» "Haven't seen them." ' tf One of 'themj- Jacques, was found near the gate, bleeding from a broken jaw; the other a little further, chokiag, withTiis chest staved in. '■' What is it? What - happenedr , asked'M. Leiiormand. Jacques said that his brother aiid ho had knocked up against an individual who' had crippled them before they had time to defend themselves. " Was ho alone?-' ,1-1 "No; when he passed near us,,-he irsd a pal with hini, shorter than, himself. '•'Did you recognise the man who strjick you?" , /. c '. "Judging by the breadth of his shoulders, I thought lie might be the , Englishman of the Palace Hotel, the one who left the hotel and whose traces we lost." , > " The major?" "Yes, Major Parbury." ■ After a moment's reflection, Mi Lenormand said: '' "There is no doubt possible. Theto were two of them in the Kesselbaeh case; the man with the dagger, wh/> committted the murders, and his accoia- , plice. the major." - " Tliat is what Prince Sernilie thinks," muttered Jacques Doudoville. " And to-night," continued the. chiefdetective, " it is they again; the sairie two." 'And he added, "So much' tho better. Tho chance of catching' two criminals is a hundred times greater than tho chance of catching one." M. Lenormand attended to his inert, had them put to bed and looked to see, if the assailants had not lost anything or left any traces. Tie found nothing and went'back to bed again himsell.i , In the morning, us Gourel and in© . • Doudevilles felt none tho worse fdr their injuries, he told tho b'i'others to scour the neighbourhood, and himself set out with Gourel. for Paris, in order to hurry matters on arid gite Bis orders. ■ '

He lunched in his office. At tiro o'clock he heard good news. One of his detectives, Dieusy, had picked' up Stciniveg, Rudolf Kesselbach's correspondent, as the German was stepping out of a train from Marseilles. "i "Is Dieusy there?" - . • '•'Yes. chief," said Gourd. ''' H'4'a here with the German.'' . "Have them brought in to me/,' ;.'. At that moment the telephone-bell rang. It was. Jean Doudeville, speaking from the post; office at, The conversation did not take long: "Is that you, Jean? Any news?".; "Yes, chief. Major Parbury . . ■*' "Well?" ' t "We have found him. He has become a Spaniard, and lias darkened his skin. We have just seen him.- -JBt« was entering the Garches free-school. He was received by. that young lady. You know, the girl who knows Prince Sernine, Genevieve Ernemont." "Thunder!"

M. Lenorinand let. go the receiver, mad© a grab at his liat, flew into - tho passage, met Dieusy and the German, shouted to them to meet him in Iris office at six o'clock, rushed down 'the stairs, followed by Goui'el and tiro inspectors whom he picked up on the way, and dived into, a taxi-cab. " Quick as you can to Garches. Ten francs for yourself!" . He stopped tho cab a little before the Pare do Villenenve, at the turn of the lane that led to the- school. Jean Doudoville was waiting for. him,'., and at onco exclaimed: "He slipped away, ten minutes,ago, by the other end of the lane." "Alone?" !. "No, with the girl." • M. Lenormand took Doudevillo by tho coliar. "Wretch! You let him go! But you ought to have—you ought to have ..." • "My brother is 011 liis track." • ''A lot of good that will do. Ho'U stick your brother. You're no match for him, either of you!" z 1 He himself took the steering-wheel of tho motor-cab, and resolut-ely drove into the lane. ' regardless of the' cariruts and of tile bushes on either side. They soon emerged 011 a yarish road.