The Teeth of the Tiger - Maurice Leblanc (feel good books txt) 📗

was a fresh blow in store for him. The sergeant did not answer his remark. Don Luis watched him closely and once more gave a start. He had just perceived that Mazeroux also was surrounded by men who were holding him tight. And the poor sergeant stood silently shedding tears.

Weber’s liveliness increased.

“You’ll have to excuse him, Lupin. Sergeant Mazeroux accompanies you to prison, though not in the same cell.”

“Ah!” said Don Luis, drawing himself up. “Is Mazeroux put into jail?”

“Prefect’s orders, warrant duly executed.”

“And on what charge?”

“Accomplice of Arsène Lupin.”

“Mazeroux my accomplice? Get out! Mazeroux? The most honest man that ever lived!”

“The most honest man that ever lived, as you say. That didn’t prevent people from going to him when they wanted to write to you or prevent him from bringing you the letters. Which proves that he knew where you were hanging out. And there’s a good deal more which we’ll explain to you, Lupin, in good time. You’ll have plenty of fun, I assure you.”

Don Luis murmured:

“My poor Mazeroux!”

Then, raising his voice, he said:

“Don’t cry, old chap. It’s just a matter of the remainder of the night. Yes, I’ll share my cards with you and we’ll turn the king and mark game in a very few hours. Don’t cry. I’ve got a much finer berth waiting for you, a more honourable and above all a more lucrative position. I have just what you want.

“You don’t imagine, surely, that I wasn’t prepared for this! Why, you know me! Take it from me: I shall be at liberty tomorrow, and the government, after setting you free, will pitch you into a colonelcy or something, with a marshal’s pay attached to it. So don’t cry, Mazeroux.”

Then, addressing Weber, he said to him in the voice of a principal giving an order, and knowing that the order will be executed without discussion:

“Monsieur, I will ask you to fulfil the confidential mission which I was entrusting to Mazeroux. First, inform the Prefect of Police that I have a communication of the very highest importance to make to the Prime Minister. Next, discover the tiger’s tracks at Versailles before the night is over. I know your merit, Monsieur, and I rely entirely upon your diligence and your zeal. Meet me at twelve o’clock tomorrow.”

And, still maintaining his attitude of a principal who has given his instructions, he allowed himself to be taken to his cell.

It was ten to one. For the last fifty minutes the enemy had been bowling along the highroad, carrying off Florence like a prey which it now seemed impossible to snatch from him.

The door was locked and bolted.

Don Luis reflected:

“Even presuming that Monsieur le Prefect consents to ring up Valenglay, he won’t do so before the morning. So they’ve given the villain eight hours’ start before I’m free. Eight hours! Curse it!”

He thought a little longer, then shrugged his shoulders with the air of one who, for the moment, has nothing better to do than wait, and flung himself on his mattress, murmuring:

“Hushaby, Lupin!”

XVII Open Sesame!

In spite of his usual facility for sleep, Don Luis slept for three hours at most. He was racked with too much anxiety; and, though his plan of conduct was worked out mathematically, he could not help foreseeing all the obstacles which were likely to frustrate that plan. Of course, Weber would speak to M. Desmalions. But would M. Desmalions telephone to Valenglay?

“He is sure to telephone,” Don Luis declared, stamping his foot. “It doesn’t let him in for anything. And at the same time, he would be running a big risk if he refused, especially as Valenglay must have been consulted about my arrest and is obviously kept informed of all that happens.”

He next asked himself what exactly Valenglay could do, once he was told. For, after all, was it not too much to expect that the head of the government, that the Prime Minister, should put himself out to obey the injunctions and assist the schemes of M. Arsène Lupin?

“He will come!” he cried, with the same persistent confidence. “Valenglay doesn’t care a hang for form and ceremony and all that nonsense. He will come, even if it is only out of curiosity, to learn what the Kaiser’s friend can have to say to him. Besides, he knows me! I am not one of those beggars who inconvenience people for nothing. There’s always something to be gained by meeting me. He’ll come!”

But another question at once presented itself to his mind. Valenglay’s coming in no way implied his consent to the bargain which Perenna meant to propose to him. And even if Don Luis succeeded in convincing him, what risks remained! How many doubtful points to overcome! And then the possibilities of failure!

Would Weber pursue the fugitive’s motor car with the necessary decision and boldness? Would he get on the track again? And, having got on the track, would he be certain not to lose it?

And then⁠—and then, even supposing that all the chances were favourable, was it not too late? Taking for granted that they hunted down the wild beast, that they drove him to bay, would he not meanwhile have killed his prey? Knowing himself beaten, would a monster of that kind hesitate to add one more murder to the long list of his crimes?

And this, to Don Luis, was the crowning terror. After all the difficulties which, in his stubbornly confident imagination, he had managed to surmount, he was brought face to face with the horrible vision of Florence being sacrificed, of Florence dead!

“Oh, the torture of it!” he stammered. “I alone could have succeeded; and they shut me up!”

He hardly put himself out to inquire into the reasons for which M. Desmalions, suddenly changing his mind, had consented to his arrest, thus bringing back to life that troublesome Arsène Lupin with whom the police had not hitherto cared to hamper themselves. No, that did not interest him. Florence alone mattered. And the minutes