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is not possible, as his name is on the list.”

“And suppose he erases it? Suppose you then find yourself dealing with a second blackmailer, even more grasping and more powerful than the first and one who, as a political adversary, is in a better position than Daubrecq to maintain the contest?”

The secretary-general was struck by the argument. After a moment’s thought, he said:

“Come and see me in my office at four o’clock tomorrow. I will give you the particulars. What is your address, in case I should want you?”

“M. Nicole, 25, Place de Clichy. I am staying at a friend’s flat, which he has lent me during his absence.”

The interview was at an end. M. Nicole thanked the secretary-general, with a very low bow, and walked out, accompanied by Mme. Mergy:

“That’s an excellent piece of work,” he said, outside, rubbing his hands. “I can march into the police-office whenever I like, and set the whole lot to work.”

Mme. Mergy, who was less hopefully inclined, said:

“Alas, will you be in time? What terrifies me is the thought that the list may be destroyed.”

“Goodness gracious me, by whom? By Daubrecq?”

“No, but by the marquis, when he gets hold of it.”

“He hasn’t got it yet! Daubrecq will resist long enough, at any rate, for us to reach him. Just think! Prasville is at my orders!”

“Suppose he discovers who you are? The least inquiry will prove that there is no such person as M. Nicole.”

“But it will not prove that M. Nicole is the same person as Arsène Lupin. Besides, make yourself easy. Prasville is not only beneath contempt as a detective: he has but one aim in life, which is to destroy his old enemy, Daubrecq. To achieve that aim, all means are equally good; and he will not waste time in verifying the identity of a M. Nicole who promises him Daubrecq. Not to mention that I was brought by you and that, when all is said, my little gifts did dazzle him to some extent. So let us go ahead boldly.”

Clarisse always recovered confidence in Lupin’s presence. The future seemed less appalling to her; and she admitted, she forced herself to admit, that the chances of saving Gilbert were not lessened by that hideous death-sentence. But he could not prevail upon her to return to Brittany. She wanted to fight by his side. She wanted to be there and share all his hopes and all his disappointments.

The next day the inquiries of the police confirmed what Prasville and Lupin already knew. The Marquis d’Albufex had been very deeply involved in the business of the canal, so deeply that Prince Napoleon was obliged to remove him from the management of his political campaign in France; and he kept up his very extravagant style of living only by dint of constant loans and makeshifts. On the other hand, in so far as concerned the kidnapping of Daubrecq, it was ascertained that, contrary to his usual custom, the marquis had not appeared in his club between six and seven that evening and had not dined at home. He did not come back until midnight; and then he came on foot.

M. Nicole’s accusation, therefore, was receiving an early proof. Unfortunately⁠—and Lupin was no more successful in his own attempts⁠—it was impossible to obtain the least clue as to the motorcar, the chauffeur and the four people who had entered Daubrecq’s house. Were they associates of the marquis, compromised in the canal affair like himself? Were they men in his pay? Nobody knew.

The whole search, consequently, had to be concentrated upon the marquis and the country-seats and houses which he might possess at a certain distance from Paris, a distance which, allowing for the average speed of a motorcar and the inevitable stoppages, could be put at sixty to ninety miles.

Now d’Albufex, having sold everything that he ever had, possessed neither country-houses nor landed estates.

They turned their attention to the marquis’ relations and intimate friends. Was he able on this side to dispose of some safe retreat in which to imprison Daubrecq?

The result was equally fruitless.

And the days passed. And what days for Clarisse Mergy! Each of them brought Gilbert nearer to the terrible day of reckoning. Each of them meant twenty-four hours less from the date which Clarisse had instinctively fixed in her mind. And she said to Lupin, who was racked with the same anxiety:

“Fifty-five days more⁠ ⁠… Fifty days more⁠ ⁠… What can one do in so few days?⁠ ⁠… Oh, I beg of you⁠ ⁠… I beg of you⁠ ⁠…”

What could they do indeed? Lupin, who would not leave the task of watching the marquis to anyone but himself, practically lived without sleeping. But the marquis had resumed his regular life; and, doubtless suspecting something, did not risk going away.

Once alone, he went down to the Duc de Montmaur’s, in the daytime. The duke kept a pack of boarhounds, with which he hunted the Forest of Durlaine. D’Albufex maintained no relations with him outside the hunt.

“It is hardly likely,” said Prasville, “that the Duc de Montmaur, an exceedingly wealthy man, who is interested only in his estates and his hunting and takes no part in politics, should lend himself to the illegal detention of Daubrecq the deputy in his château.”

Lupin agreed; but, as he did not wish to leave anything to chance, the next week, seeing d’Albufex go out one morning in riding-dress, he followed him to the Gare du Nord and took the same train.

He got out at Aumale, where d’Albufex found a carriage at the station which took him to the Château de Montmaur.

Lupin lunched quietly, hired a bicycle and came in view of the house at the moment when the guests were going into the park, in motorcars or mounted. The Marquis d’Albufex was one of the horsemen.

Thrice, in the course of the day, Lupin saw him cantering along. And he found him, in the evening, at the station, where d’Albufex rode up, followed by a huntsman.

The proof, therefore, was

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