The Extraordinary Adventures of Arsene Lupin, Gentleman Burglar
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Maurice Leblanc >> The Extraordinary Adventures of Arsene Lupin, Gentleman Burglar
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13 This etext was produced by Nathan J. Miller, NathanJM@MagicalDesk.com.
Maurice Leblanc
The Extraordinary Adventures of Arsene Lupin, Gentleman-Burglar
Table of Contents:
I. The Arrest of Arsene Lupin
II. Arsene Lupin in Prison
III. The Escape of Arsene Lupin
IV. The Mysterious Traveller
V. The Queen's Necklace
VI. The Seven of Hearts
VII. Madame Imbert's Safe
VIII. The Black Pearl
IX. Sherlock Holmes Arrives Too Late
I. The Arrest of Arsene Lupin
It was a strange ending to a voyage that had commenced in a most
auspicious manner. The transatlantic steamship `La Provence' was
a swift and comfortable vessel, under the command of a most
affable man. The passengers constituted a select and delightful
society. The charm of new acquaintances and improvised amusements
served to make the time pass agreeably. We enjoyed the pleasant
sensation of being separated from the world, living, as it were,
upon an unknown island, and consequently obliged to be sociable
with each other.
Have you ever stopped to consider how much originality and
spontaneity emanate from these various individuals who, on the
preceding evening, did not even know each other, and who are now,
for several days, condemned to lead a life of extreme intimacy,
jointly defying the anger of the ocean, the terrible onslaught of
the waves, the violence of the tempest and the agonizing monotony
of the calm and sleepy water? Such a life becomes a sort of
tragic existence, with its storms and its grandeurs, its monotony
and its diversity; and that is why, perhaps, we embark upon that
short voyage with mingled feelings of pleasure and fear.
But, during the past few years, a new sensation had been added to
the life of the transatlantic traveler. The little floating
island is now attached to the world from which it was once quite
free. A bond united them, even in the very heart of the watery
wastes of the Atlantic. That bond is the wireless telegraph, by
means of which we receive news in the most mysterious manner. We
know full well that the message is not transported by the medium
of a hollow wire. No, the mystery is even more inexplicable, more
romantic, and we must have recourse to the wings of the air in
order to explain this new miracle. During the first day of the
voyage, we felt that we were being followed, escorted, preceded
even, by that distant voice, which, from time to time, whispered
to one of us a few words from the receding world. Two friends
spoke to me. Ten, twenty others sent gay or somber words of
parting to other passengers.
On the second day, at a distance of five hundred miles from the
French coast, in the midst of a violent storm, we received the
following message by means of the wireless telegraph:
"Arsene Lupin is on your vessel, first cabin, blonde hair, wound
right fore-arm, traveling alone under name of R........"
At that moment, a terrible flash of lightning rent the stormy
skies. The electric waves were interrupted. The remainder of the
dispatch never reached us. Of the name under which Arsene Lupin was
concealing himself, we knew only the initial.
If the news had been of some other character, I have no doubt that
the secret would have been carefully guarded by the telegraphic
operator as well as by the officers of the vessel. But it was one
of those events calculated to escape from the most rigorous
discretion. The same day, no one knew how, the incident became a
matter of current gossip and every passenger was aware that the
famous Arsene Lupin was hiding in our midst.
Arsene Lupin in our midst! the irresponsible burglar whose
exploits had been narrated in all the newspapers during the past
few months! the mysterious individual with whom Ganimard, our
shrewdest detective, had been engaged in an implacable conflict
amidst interesting and picturesque surroundings. Arsene Lupin,
the eccentric gentleman who operates only in the chateaux and
salons, and who, one night, entered the residence of Baron
Schormann, but emerged empty-handed, leaving, however, his card on
which he had scribbled these words: "Arsene Lupin, gentleman-
burglar, will return when the furniture is genuine." Arsene
Lupin, the man of a thousand disguises: in turn a chauffer,
detective, bookmaker, Russian physician, Spanish bull-fighter,
commercial traveler, robust youth, or decrepit old man.
Then consider this startling situation: Arsene Lupin was wandering
about within the limited bounds of a transatlantic steamer; in
that very small corner of the world, in that dining saloon, in
that smoking room, in that music room! Arsene Lupin was, perhaps,
this gentleman....or that one....my neighbor at the table....
the sharer of my stateroom....
"And this condition of affairs will last for five days!" exclaimed
Miss Nelly Underdown, next morning. "It is unbearable! I hope he
will be arrested."
Then, addressing me, she added:
"And you, Monsieur d'Andrezy, you are on intimate terms with the
captain; surely you know something?"
I should have been delighted had I possessed any information that
would interest Miss Nelly. She was one of those magnificent
creatures who inevitably attract attention in every assembly.
Wealth and beauty form an irresistible combination, and Nelly
possessed both.
Educated in Paris under the care of a French mother, she was now
going to visit her father, the millionaire Underdown of Chicago.
She was accompanied by one of her friends, Lady Jerland.
At first, I had decided to open a flirtation with her; but, in the
rapidly growing intimacy of the voyage, I was soon impressed by
her charming manner and my feelings became too deep and
reverential for a mere flirtation. Moreover, she accepted my
attentions with a certain degree of favor. She condescended to
laugh at my witticisms and display an interest in my stories. Yet
I felt that I had a rival in the person of a young man with quiet
and refined tastes; and it struck me, at times, that she preferred
his taciturn humor to my Parisian frivolity. He formed one in the
circle of admirers that surrounded Miss Nelly at the time she
addressed to me the foregoing question. We were all comfortably
seated in our deck-chairs. The storm of the preceding evening had
cleared the sky. The weather was now delightful.
"I have no definite knowledge, mademoiselle," I replied, "but can
not we, ourselves, investigate the mystery quite as well as the
detective Ganimard, the personal enemy of Arsene Lupin?"
"Oh! oh! you are progressing very fast, monsieur."
"Not at all, mademoiselle. In the first place, let me ask, do you
find the problem a complicated one?"
"Very complicated."
"Have you forgotten the key we hold for the solution to the
problem?"
"What key?"
"In the first place, Lupin calls himself Monsieur R-------."
"Rather vague information," she replied.
"Secondly, he is traveling alone."
"Does that help you?" she asked.
"Thirdly, he is blonde."
"Well?"
"Then we have only to peruse the passenger-list, and proceed by
process of elimination."
I had that list in my pocket. I took it out and glanced through
it. Then I remarked:
"I find that there are only thirteen men on the passenger-list
whose names begin with the letter R."
"Only thirteen?"
"Yes, in the first cabin. And of those thirteen, I find that nine
of them are accompanied by women, children or servants. That
leaves only four who are traveling alone. First, the Marquis de
Raverdan----"
"Secretary to the American Ambassador," interrupted Miss Nelly.
"I know him."
"Major Rawson," I continued.
"He is my uncle," some one said.
"Mon. Rivolta."
"Here!" exclaimed an Italian, whose face was concealed beneath a
heavy black beard.
Miss Nelly burst into laughter, and exclaimed: "That gentleman can
scarcely be called a blonde."
"Very well, then," I said, "we are forced to the conclusion that
the guilty party is the last one on the list."
"What is his name?"
"Mon. Rozaine. Does anyone know him?"
No one answered. But Miss Nelly turned to the taciturn young man,
whose attentions to her had annoyed me, and said:
"Well, Monsieur Rozaine, why do you not answer?"
All eyes were now turned upon him. He was a blonde. I must
confess that I myself felt a shock of surprise, and the profound
silence that followed her question indicated that the others
present also viewed the situation with a feeling of sudden alarm.
However, the idea was an absurd one, because the gentleman in
question presented an air of the most perfect innocence.
"Why do I not answer?" he said. "Because, considering my name, my
position as a solitary traveler and the color of my hair, I have
already reached the same conclusion, and now think that I should
be arrested."
He presented a strange appearance as he uttered these words. His
thin lips were drawn closer than usual and his face was ghastly
pale, whilst his eyes were streaked with blood. Of course, he was
joking, yet his appearance and attitude impressed us strangely.
"But you have not the wound?" said Miss Nelly, naively.
"That is true," he replied, "I lack the wound."
Then he pulled up his sleeve, removing his cuff, and showed us his
arm. But that action did not deceive me. He had shown us his
left arm, and I was on the point of calling his attention to the
fact, when another incident diverted our attention. Lady Jerland,
Miss Nelly's friend, came running towards us in a state of great
excitement, exclaiming:
"My jewels, my pearls! Some one has stolen them all!"
No, they were not all gone, as we soon found out. The thief had
taken only part of them; a very curious thing. Of the diamond
sunbursts, jeweled pendants, bracelets and necklaces, the thief
had taken, not the largest but the finest and most valuable
stones. The mountings were lying upon the table. I saw them
there, despoiled of their jewels, like flowers from which the
beautiful colored petals had been ruthlessly plucked. And this
theft must have been committed at the time Lady Jerland was taking
her tea; in broad daylight, in a stateroom opening on a much
frequented corridor; moreover, the thief had been obliged to force
open the door of the stateroom, search for the jewel-case, which
was hidden at the bottom of a hat-box, open it, select his booty
and remove it from the mountings.
Of course, all the passengers instantly reached the same
conclusion; it was the work of Arsene Lupin.
That day, at the dinner table, the seats to the right and left of
Rozaine remained vacant; and, during the evening, it was rumored
that the captain had placed him under arrest, which information
produced a feeling of safety and relief. We breathed once more.
That evening, we resumed our games and dances. Miss Nelly,
especially, displayed a spirit of thoughtless gayety which
convinced me that if Rozaine's attentions had been agreeable to
her in the beginning, she had already forgotten them. Her charm
and good-humor completed my conquest. At midnight, under a bright
moon, I declared my devotion with an ardor that did not seem to
displease her.
But, next day, to our general amazement, Rozaine was at liberty.
We learned that the evidence against him was not sufficient. He
had produced documents that were perfectly regular, which showed
that he was the son of a wealthy merchant of Bordeaux. Besides,
his arms did not bear the slightest trace of a wound.
"Documents! Certificates of birth!" exclaimed the enemies of
Rozaine, "of course, Arsene Lupin will furnish you as many as you
desire. And as to the wound, he never had it, or he has removed
it."
Then it was proven that, at the time of the theft, Rozaine was
promenading on the deck. To which fact, his enemies replied that
a man like Arsene Lupin could commit a crime without being
actually present. And then, apart from all other circumstances,
there remained one point which even the most skeptical could not
answer: Who except Rozaine, was traveling alone, was a blonde, and
bore a name beginning with R? To whom did the telegram point, if
it were not Rozaine?
And when Rozaine, a few minutes before breakfast, came boldly
toward our group, Miss Nelly and Lady Jerland arose and walked
away.
An hour later, a manuscript circular was passed from hand to hand
amongst the sailors, the stewards, and the passengers of all
classes. It announced that Mon. Louis Rozaine offered a reward of
ten thousand francs for the discovery of Arsene Lupin or other
person in possession of the stolen jewels.
"And if no one assists me, I will unmask the scoundrel myself,"
declared Rozaine.
Rozaine against Arsene Lupin, or rather, according to current
opinion, Arsene Lupin himself against Arsene Lupin; the contest
promised to be interesting.
Nothing developed during the next two days. We saw Rozaine
wandering about, day and night, searching, questioning,
investigating. The captain, also, displayed commendable activity.
He caused the vessel to be searched from stern to stern; ransacked
every stateroom under the plausible theory that the jewels might
be concealed anywhere, except in the thief's own room.
"I suppose they will find out something soon," remarked Miss Nelly
to me. "He may be a wizard, but he cannot make diamonds and
pearls become invisible."
"Certainly not," I replied, "but he should examine the lining of
our hats and vests and everything we carry with us."
Then, exhibiting my Kodak, a 9x12 with which I had been
photographing her in various poses, I added: "In an apparatus no
larger than that, a person could hide all of Lady Jerland's
jewels. He could pretend to take pictures and no one would
suspect the game."
"But I have heard it said that every thief leaves some clue behind
him."
"That may be generally true," I replied, "but there is one
exception: Arsene Lupin."
"Why?"
"Because he concentrates his thoughts not only on the theft, but
on all the circumstances connected with it that could serve as a
clue to his identity."
"A few days ago, you were more confident."
"Yes, but since I have seen him at work."
"And what do you think about it now?" she asked.
"Well, in my opinion, we are wasting our time."
And, as a matter of fact, the investigation had produced no
result. But, in the meantime, the captain's watch had been
stolen. He was furious. He quickened his efforts and watched
Rozaine more closely than before. But, on the following day, the
watch was found in the second officer's collar box.
This incident caused considerable astonishment, and displayed the
humorous side of Arsene Lupin, burglar though he was, but
dilettante as well. He combined business with pleasure. He
reminded us of the author who almost died in a fit of laughter
provoked by his own play. Certainly, he was an artist in his
particular line of work, and whenever I saw Rozaine, gloomy and
reserved, and thought of the double role that he was playing, I
accorded him a certain measure of admiration.
On the following evening, the officer on deck duty heard groans
emanating from the darkest corner of the ship. He approached and
found a man lying there, his head enveloped in a thick gray scarf
and his hands tied together with a heavy cord. It was Rozaine.
He had been assaulted, thrown down and robbed. A card, pinned to
his coat, bore these words: "Arsene Lupin accepts with pleasure
the ten thousand francs offered by Mon. Rozaine." As a matter of
fact, the stolen pocket-book contained twenty thousand francs.
Of course, some accused the unfortunate man of having simulated
this attack on himself. But, apart from the fact that he could
not have bound himself in that manner, it was established that the
writing on the card was entirely different from that of Rozaine,
but, on the contrary, resembled the handwriting of Arsene Lupin as
it was reproduced in an old newspaper found on board.
Thus it appeared that Rozaine was not Arsene Lupin; but was
Rozaine, the son of a Bordeaux merchant. And the presence of
Arsene Lupin was once more affirmed, and that in a most alarming
manner.
Such was the state of terror amongst the passengers that none
would remain alone in a stateroom or wander singly in unfrequented
parts of the vessel. We clung together as a matter of safety.
And yet the most intimate acquaintances were estranged by a mutual
feeling of distrust. Arsene Lupin was, now, anybody and
everybody. Our excited imaginations attributed to him miraculous
and unlimited power. We supposed him capable of assuming the most
unexpected disguises; of being, by turns, the highly respectable
Major Rawson or the noble Marquis de Raverdan, or even--for we no
longer stopped with the accusing letter of R--or even such or such
a person well known to all of us, and having wife, children and
servants.
The first wireless dispatches from America brought no news; at
least, the captain did not communicate any to us. The silence was
not reassuring.
Our last day on the steamer seemed interminable. We lived in
constant fear of some disaster. This time, it would not be a
simple theft or a comparatively harmless assault; it would be a
crime, a murder. No one imagined that Arsene Lupin would confine
himself to those two trifling offenses. Absolute master of the
ship, the authorities powerless, he could do whatever he pleased;
our property and lives were at his mercy.
Yet those were delightful hours for me, since they secured to me
the confidence of Miss Nelly. Deeply moved by those startling
events and being of a highly nervous nature, she spontaneously
sought at my side a protection and security that I was pleased to
give her. Inwardly, I blessed Arsene Lupin. Had he not been the
means of bringing me and Miss Nelly closer to each other? Thanks
to him, I could now indulge in delicious dreams of love and
happiness--dreams that, I felt, were not unwelcome to Miss Nelly.
Her smiling eyes authorized me to make them; the softness of her
voice bade me hope.
As we approached the American shore, the active search for the
thief was apparently abandoned, and we were anxiously awaiting the
supreme moment in which the mysterious enigma would be explained.
Who was Arsene Lupin? Under what name, under what disguise was
the famous Arsene Lupin concealing himself? And, at last, that
supreme moment arrived. If I live one hundred years, I shall not
forget the slightest details of it.
"How pale you are, Miss Nelly," I said to my companion, as she
leaned upon my arm, almost fainting.
"And you!" she replied, "ah! you are so changed."
"Just think! this is a most exciting moment, and I am delighted to
spend it with you, Miss Nelly. I hope that your memory will
sometimes revert---"
But she was not listening. She was nervous and excited. The
gangway was placed in position, but, before we could use it, the
uniformed customs officers came on board. Miss Nelly murmured:
"I shouldn't be surprised to hear that Arsene Lupin escaped from
the vessel during the voyage."
"Perhaps he preferred death to dishonor, and plunged into the
Atlantic rather than be arrested."
"Oh, do not laugh," she said.
Suddenly I started, and, in answer to her question, I said:
"Do you see that little old man standing at the bottom of the
gangway?"
"With an umbrella and an olive-green coat?"
"It is Ganimard."
"Ganimard?"
"Yes, the celebrated detective who has sworn to capture Arsene
Lupin. Ah! I can understand now why we did not receive any news
from this side of the Atlantic. Ganimard was here! and he always
keeps his business secret."
"Then you think he will arrest Arsene Lupin?"
"Who can tell? The unexpected always happens when Arsene Lupin is
concerned in the affair."
"Oh!" she exclaimed, with that morbid curiosity peculiar to women,
"I should like to see him arrested."
"You will have to be patient. No doubt, Arsene Lupin has already
seen his enemy and will not be in a hurry to leave the steamer."
The passengers were now leaving the steamer. Leaning on his
umbrella, with an air of careless indifference, Ganimard appeared
to be paying no attention to the crowd that was hurrying down the
gangway. The Marquis de Raverdan, Major Rawson, the Italian
Rivolta, and many others had already left the vessel before
Rozaine appeared. Poor Rozaine!
"Perhaps it is he, after all," said Miss Nelly to me. "What do
you think?"
"I think it would be very interesting to have Ganimard and Rozaine
in the same picture. You take the camera. I am loaded down."
I gave her the camera, but too late for her to use it. Rozaine
was already passing the detective. An American officer, standing
behind Ganimard, leaned forward and whispered in his ear. The
French detective shrugged his shoulders and Rozaine passed on.
Then, my God, who was Arsene Lupin?
"Yes," said Miss Nelly, aloud, "who can it be?"
Not more than twenty people now remained on board. She
scrutinized them one by one, fearful that Arsene Lupin was not
amongst them.
"We cannot wait much longer," I said to her.
She started toward the gangway. I followed. But we had not taken
ten steps when Ganimard barred our passage.
"Well, what is it?" I exclaimed.
"One moment, monsieur. What's your hurry?"
"I am escorting mademoiselle."
"One moment," he repeated, in a tone of authority. Then, gazing
into my eyes, he said:
"Arsene Lupin, is it not?"
I laughed, and replied: "No, simply Bernard d'Andrezy."
"Bernard d'Andrezy died in Macedonia three years ago."
"If Bernard d'Andrezy were dead, I should not be here. But you
are mistaken. Here are my papers."
"They are his; and I can tell you exactly how they came into your
possession."
"You are a fool!" I exclaimed. "Arsene Lupin sailed under the
name of R---"
"Yes, another of your tricks; a false scent that deceived them at
Havre. You play a good game, my boy, but this time luck is
against you."
I hesitated a moment. Then he hit me a sharp blow on the right
arm, which caused me to utter a cry of pain. He had struck the
wound, yet unhealed, referred to in the telegram.
I was obliged to surrender. There was no alternative. I turned
to Miss Nelly, who had heard everything. Our eyes met; then she
glanced at the Kodak I had placed in her hands, and made a gesture
that conveyed to me the impression that she understood everything.
Yes, there, between the narrow folds of black leather, in the
hollow centre of the small object that I had taken the precaution
to place in her hands before Ganimard arrested me, it was there I
had deposited Rozaine's twenty thousand francs and Lady Jerland's
pearls and diamonds.
Oh! I pledge my oath that, at that solemn moment, when I was in
the grasp of Ganimard and his two assistants, I was perfectly
indifferent to everything, to my arrest, the hostility of the
people, everything except this one question: what will Miss Nelly
do with the things I had confided to her?
In the absence of that material and conclusive proof, I had
nothing to fear; but would Miss Nelly decide to furnish that
proof? Would she betray me? Would she act the part of an enemy
who cannot forgive, or that of a woman whose scorn is softened by
feelings of indulgence and involuntary sympathy?
She passed in front of me. I said nothing, but bowed very low.
Mingled with the other passengers, she advanced to the gangway
with my kodak in her hand. It occurred to me that she would not
dare to expose me publicly, but she might do so when she reached a
more private place. However, when she had passed only a few feet
down the gangway, with a movement of simulated awkwardness, she
let the camera fall into the water between the vessel and the
pier. Then she walked down the gangway, and was quickly lost to
sight in the crowd. She had passed out of my life forever.
For a moment, I stood motionless. Then, to Ganimard's great
astonishment, I muttered:
"What a pity that I am not an honest man!"
Such was the story of his arrest as narrated to me by Arsene Lupin
himself. The various incidents, which I shall record in writing
at a later day, have established between us certain ties....shall
I say of friendship? Yes, I venture to believe that Arsene Lupin
honors me with his friendship, and that it is through friendship
that he occasionally calls on me, and brings, into the silence of
my library, his youthful exuberance of spirits, the contagion of
his enthusiasm, and the mirth of a man for whom destiny has naught
but favors and smiles.
His portrait? How can I describe him? I have seen him twenty
times and each time he was a different person; even he himself
said to me on one occasion: "I no longer know who I am. I cannot
recognize myself in the mirror." Certainly, he was a great actor,
and possessed a marvelous faculty for disguising himself. Without
the slightest effort, he could adopt the voice, gestures and
mannerisms of another person.
"Why," said he, "why should I retain a definite form and feature?
Why not avoid the danger of a personality that is ever the same?
My actions will serve to identify me."
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