酷兔英语

章节正文

signature of the chairman of the company: the signature in red.... Besides,

I have other proofs.... For instance, the torn piece which completes the
left-hand top corner of this sheet..."

He opened his safe and, from a special cash-box, produced a tiny piece
of paper which he put against the top left corner:

"That's right. The torn edges fit exactly. The proof is undeniable.
All that remains is to verify the make of this foreign-post-paper."

Clarisse was radiant with delight. No one would have believed that the
most terrible torture had racked her for weeks and weeks and that she

was still bleeding and quivering from its effects.
While Prasville was holding the paper against a window-pane, she said to

Lupin:
"I insist upon having Gilbert informed this evening. He must be so

awfully unhappy!"
"Yes," said Lupin. "Besides, you can go to his lawyer and tell him."

She continued:
"And then I must see Gilbert to-morrow. Prasville can think what he

likes."
"Of course. But he must first gain his cause at the Elysee."

"There can't be any difficulty, can there?"
"No. You saw that he gave way at once."

Prasville continued his examination with the aid of a magnifying-glass
and compared the sheet with the scrap of torn paper. Next, he took from

the cash-box some other sheets of letter-paper and examined one of these
by holding it up to the light:

"That's done," he said. "My mind is made up. Forgive me, dear friend:
it was a very difficult piece of work.... I passed through various stages.

When all is said, I had my suspicions... and not without cause... "
"What do you mean?" asked Clarisse.

"One second.... I must give an order first."
He called his secretary:

"Please telephone at once to the Elysee, make my apologies and say that
I shall not require the audience, for reasons which I will explain later."

He closed the door and returned to his desk. Clarisse and Lupin stood
choking, looking at him in stupefaction, failing to understand this

sudden change. Was he mad? Was it a trick on his part? A breach of
faith? And was he refusing to keep his promise, now that he possessed

the list?
He held it out to Clarisse:

"You can have it back."
Have it back?"

"And return it to Daubrecq."
"To Daubrecq?"

"Unless you prefer to burn it."
"What do you say?"

"I say that, if I were in your place, I would burn it."
"Why do you say that? It's ridiculous!"

"On the contrary, it is very sensible."
"But why? Why?"

"Why? I will tell you. The list of the Twenty-seven, as we know for
absolutely certain, was written on a sheet of letter-paper belonging to

the chairman of the Canal Company, of which there are a few samples in
this cash-box. Now all these samples have as a water-mark a little

cross of Lorraine which is almost invisible, but which can just be seen
in the thickness of the paper when you hold it up to the light. The

sheet which you have brought me does not contain that little cross of
Lorraine."*

________________________________________________________________________
*The Cross of Lorraine is a cross with two horizontal lines or bars

across the upper half of the perpendicular beam.-Translator's Note.
________________________________________________________________________

Lupin felt a nervous trembling shake him from head to foot and he dared
not turn his eyes on Clarisse, realizing what a terrible blow this was

to her. He heard her stammer:
"Then are we to suppose... that Daubrecq was taken in?"

"Not a bit of it!" exclaimed Prasville. "It is you who have been taken
in, my poor friend. Daubrecq has the real list, the list which he stole

from the dying man's safe."
"But this one... "

"This one is a forgery."
"A forgery?"

"An undoubted forgery. It was an admirable piece of cunning on Daubrecq's
part. Dazzled by the crystal stopper which he flashed before your eyes,

you did nothing but look for that stopper in which he had stowed away no
matter what, the first bit of paper that came to hand, while he quietly

kept... "
Prasville interrupted himself. Clarisse was walking up to him with

short, stiff steps, like an automaton. She said:
"Then ... "

"Then what, dear friend?"
"You refuse?"

"Certainly, I am obliged to; I have no choice."
"You refuse to take that step?"

"Look here, how can I do what you ask? It's not possible, on the
strength of a valueless document... "

"You won't do it?... You won't do it?... And, to-morrow morning... in a
few hours... Gilbert... "

She was frightfully pale, her face sunk, like the face of one dying.
Her eyes opened wider and wider and her teeth chattered... "

Lupin, fearing the useless and dangerous words which she was about to
utter, seized her by the shoulders and tried to drag her away. But she

thrust him back with indomitable strength, took two or three more steps,
staggered, as though on the point of falling, and, suddenly, in a burst

of energy and despair, laid hold of Prasvile and screamed:
"You shall go to the Elysee!... You shall go at once!... You must!... You

must save Gilbert!"
"Flease, please, my dear friend, calm yourself... "

She gave a strident laugh:
"Calm myself!... When, to-morrow morning, Gilbert... Ah, no, no, I am

terrified... it's appalling.... Oh, run, you wretch, run! Obtain his
pardon!... Don't you understand? Gilbert... Gilbert is my son! My son!

My son!"
Prasville gave a cry. The blade of a knife flashed in Clarisse's hand

and she raised her arm to strike herself. But the movement was not
completed. M. Nicole caught her arm in its descent and, taking the knife

from Clarisse, reducing her to helplessness, he said, in a voice that
rang through the room like steel:

"What you are doing is madness!... When I gave you my oath that I would
save him! You must... live for him... Gilbert shall not die.... How can

he die, when... I gave you my oath?... "
"Gilbert... my son ... " moaned Clarisse.

He clasped her fiercely, drew her against himself and put his hand over
her mouth:

"Enough! Be quiet!... I entreat you to be quiet.... Gilbert shall not
die... "

With irresistible authority, he dragged her away like a subdued child
that suddenly becomes obedient; but, at the moment of opening the door,

he turned to Prasville:
"Wait for me here, monsieur," he commanded, in an imperative tone. "If

you care about that list of the Twenty-seven, the real list, wait for me.
I shall be back in an hour, in two hours, at most; and then we will talk

business."
And abruptly, to Clarisse:

"And you, madame, a little courage yet. I command you to show courage,
in Gilbert's name."

He went away, through the passages, down the stairs, with a jerky step,
holding Clarisse under the arm, as he might have held a lay-figure,

supporting her, carrying her almost. A court-yard, another court-yard,
then the street.

Meanwhile, Prasville, surprised at first, bewildered by the course of
events, was gradually recovering his composure and thinking. He thought

of that M. Nicole, a mere supernumerary at first, who played beside
Clarisse the part of one of those advisers to whom we cling in the

serious crises of our lives and who suddenly, shaking off his torpor,
appeared in the full light of day, resolute, masterful, mettlesome,

brimming over with daring, ready to overthrow all the obstacles that
fate placed on his path.

Who was there that was capable of acting thus?
Prasville started. The question had no sooner occurred to his mind than

the answer flashed on him, with absolutecertainty. All the proofs rose
up, each more exact, each more convincing than the last.

Hurriedly he rang. Hurriedly he sent for the chief detective-inspector
on duty. And, feverishiy:

"Were you in the waiting-room, chief-inspector?"
"Yes, monsieur le secretaire-generaL"

"Did you see a gentleman and a lady go out?"
"Yes."

"Would you know the man again?"
"Then don't lose a moment, chief-inspector. Take six inspectors with

you. Go to the Place de Cichy. Make inquiries about a man called Nicole
and watch the house. The Nicole man is on his way back there."

"And if he comes out, monsieur le secretaire-general?"
Arrest him. Here's a warrant."

He sat down to his desk and wrote a name on a form:
"Here you are, chief-inspector. I will let the chief-detective know."

The chief-inspector seemed staggered:
"But you spoke to me of a man called Nicole, monsieur le

secretaire-general."
"Well?"

"The warrant is in the name of Arsene Lupin."
"Arsene Lupin and the Nicole man are one and the same individual."

CHAPTER XII
THE SCAFFOLD

I will save him, I will save him," Lupin repeated, without ceasing, in
the taxicab in which he and Clarisse drove away. "I swear that I will

save him."
Clarisse did not listen, sat as though numbed, as though possessed by

some great nightmare of death, which left her ignorant of all that was
happening outside her. And Lupin set forth his plans, perhaps more to

reassure himself than to convince Clarisse. "No, no, the game is not
lost yet. There is one trump left, a huge trump, in the shape of the

letters and documents which Vorenglade, the ex-deputy, is offering to
sell to Daubrecq and of which Daubrecq spoke to you yesterday at Nice.

I shall buy those letters and documents of Stanislas Vorenglade at
whatever price he chooses to name. Then we shall go back to the

police-office and I shall say to Prasville, 'Go to the Elysse at once
... Use the list as though it were genuine, save Gilbert from death

and be content to acknowledge to-morrow, when Gilbert is saved, that
the list is forged.

Be off, quickly!... If you refuse well, if you refuse, the Vorenglade
letters and documents shall be reproduced to-morrow, Tuesday, morning

in one of the leading newspapers. Vorenglade will be arrested. And M.
Prasville will find himself in prison before night."

Lupin rubbed his hands:
"He'll do as he's told!... He'll do as he's told!... I felt that at once,

when I was with him. The thing appeared to me as a dead certainty. And
I found Vorenglade's address in Daubrecq's pocket-books, so... driver,

Boulevard Raspail!"
They went to the address given. Lupin sprang from the cab, ran up three

flights of stairs.
The servant said that M. Vorenglade was away and would not be back until

dinner-time next evening.
"And don't you know where he is?"

"M. Vorenglade is in London, sir."
Lupin did not utter a word on returning to the cab. Clarisse, on her

side, did not even ask him any questions, so indifferent had she become
to everything, so absolutely did she look upon her son's death as an

accompllshed fact.
They drove to the Place de Cichy. As Lupin entered the house he passed

two men who where just leaving the porter's box. He was too much
engrossed to notice them. They were Prasville's inspectors.



文章标签:翻译  译文  翻译文  

章节正文