likely enough that the business was done by those chaps and their father."
Toward the end of the afternoon Lupin availed himself of a breach to the

right of the towers to scale the curtain. From there he was able to see
the huntsman's lodge and the few remains of the old fortress: here, a bit

of wall, suggesting the mantel of a chimney; further away, a water-tank;
on this side, the arches of a chapel; on the other, a heap of fallen

stones.
A patrol-path edged the cliff in front; and, at one of the ends of this

patrol-path, there were the remains of a formidable donjon-keep razed
almost level with the ground.

Lupin returned to Clarisse Mergy in the evening. And from that time he
went backward and forward between Amiens and Mortepierre, leaving the

Growler and the Masher permanently on the watch.
And six days passed. Sebastiani's habits seemed to be subject solely

to the duties of his post. He used to go up to the Chateau de Montmaur,
walk about in the forest, note the tracks of the game and go his rounds

at night.
But, on the seventh day, learning that there was to be a meet and that a

carriage had been sent to Aumale Station in the morning, Lupin took up
his post in a cluster of box and laurels which surrounded the little

esplanade in front of the gate.
At two o'clock he heard the pack give tongue. They approached,

accompanied by hunting-cries, and then drew farther away. He heard them
again, about the middle of the afternoon, not quite so distinctly" target="_blank" title="ad.清楚地，明晰地">distinctly; and

that was all. But suddenly, amid the silence, the sound of galloping
horses reached his ears; and, a few minutes later, he saw two riders

climbing the river-path.
He recognized the Marquis d'Albufex and Sebastiani. On reaching the

esplanade, they both alighted; and a woman - the huntsman's wife, no
doubt - opened the gate. Sebastiani fastened the horses' bridles to

rings fixed on a post at a few yards from Lupin and ran to join the
marquis. The gate closed behind them.

Lupin did not hesitate; and, though it was still broad daylight, relying
upon the solitude of the place, he hoisted himself to the hollow of the

breach. Passing his head through cautiously, he saw the two men and
Sebastiani's wife hurrying toward the ruins of the keep.

The huntsman drew aside a hangingscreen of ivy and revealed the entrance
to a stairway, which he went down, as did d'Albufex, leaving his wife on

guard on the terrace.
There was no question of going in after them; and Lupin returned to his

hiding-place. He did not wait long before the gate opened again.
The Marquis d'Albufex seemed in a great rage. He was striking the leg

of his boot with his whip and mumbling angry words which Lupin was able
to distinguish when the distance became less great:

"Ah, the hound!... I'll make him speak... I'll come back to-night...
to-night, at ten o'clock, do you hear, Sebastiani?... And we shall do

what's necessary... Oh, the brute!"
Sebastiani unfastened the horses. D'Albufex turned to the woman:

"See that your sons keep a good watch... If any one attempts to deliver
him, so much the worse for him. The trapdoor is there. Can I rely upon

them?"
"As thoroughly as on myself, monsieur le marquis," declared the huntsman.

"They know what monsieur le marquis has done for me and what he means to
do for them. They will shrink at nothing."

"Let us mount and get back to the hounds," said d'Albufex.
So things were going as Lupin had supposed. During these runs, d'Albufex,

taking a line of his own, would push off to Mortepierre, without anybody's
suspecting his trick. Sebastiani, who was devoted to him body and soul,

for reasons connected with the past into which it was not worth while to
inquire, accompanied him; and together they went to see the captive, who

was closely watched by the huntsman's wife and his three sons.
"That's where we stand," said Lupin to Clarisse Mergy, when he joined

her at a neighbouring inn. "This evening the marquis will put Daubrecq
to the question - a littie brutally, but indispensably - as I intended

to do myself."
"And Daubrecq wrn give up his secret," said Clarisse, already quite upset.

"I'm afraid so."
"Then... "

"I am hesitating between two plans," said Lupin, who seemed very calm.
"Either to prevent the interview... "

"How?"
"By forestalling d'Albufex. At nine o'clock, the Growler, the Masher

and I climb the ramparts, burst into the fortress, attack the keep,
disarm the garrison... and the thing's done: Daubrecq is ours."

"Unless Sebastiani's sons fling him through the trapdoor to which the
marquis alluded... "

"For that reason," said Lupin, "I intend to risk that violent measure
only as a last resort and in case my other plan should not be

practicable."
"What is the other plan?"

"To witness the interview. If Daubrecq does not speak, it will give us
the time to prepare to carry him off under more favourable conditions.

If he speaks, if they compel him to reveal the place where the list
of the Twenty-seven is hidden, I shall know the truth at the same time

as d'Albufex, and I swear to God that I shall turn it to account before
he does."

"Yes, yes," said Clarisse. "But how do you propose to be present?"
"I don't know yet," Lupin confessed. "It depends on certain particulars

which the Masher is to bring me and on some which I shall find out for
myself."

He left the inn and did not return until an hour later as night was
falling. The Masher joined him.

"Have you the little book?" asked Lupin.
"Yes, governor It was what I saw at the Aumale newspaper-shop. I got

it for ten sous."
"Give it me."

The Masher handed him an old, soiled, torn pamphlet, entitled, on the
cover, A Visit to Mortepierre, 1824, with plans and illustrations.

Lupin at once looked for the plan of the donjon-keep.
"That's it," he said. "Above the ground were three stories, which have

been razed, and below the ground, dug out of the rock, two stories, one
of which was blocked up by the rubbish, while the other... There, that's

where our friend Daubrecq lies. The name is significant: the
torture-chamber ... Poor, dear friend!... Between the staircase and the

torture-chamber, two doors. Between those two doors, a recess in which
the three brothers obviously sit, gun in hand."

"So it is impossible for you to get in that way without being seen."
"Impossible... unless I come from above, by the story that has fallen

in, and look for a means of entrance through the ceiling... But that is
very risky... "

He continued to turn the pages of the book. Clarisse asked:
"Is there no window to the room?"

"Yes," he said. "From below, from the river - I have just been there
- you can see a little opening, which is also marked on the plan. But

it is fifty yards up, sheer; and even then the rock overhangs the water.
So that again is out of the question."

He glanced through a few pages of the book. The title of one chapter
struck him: The Lovers' Towers He read the opening lines:

"In the old days, the donjon was known to the people of the
neighbourhood as the Lovers' Tower, in memory of a fatal tragedy

that marked it in the Middle Ages. The Comte de Mortepierre,
having received proofs of his wife's faithlessness, imprisoned

her in the torture-chamber, where she spent twenty years. One
night, her lover, the Sire de Tancarville, with reckless courage,