M. Nicole burst into a fresh fit of laughter:
"Was simply to go for Daubrecq's eye, that eye 'emptied within so as to
leave a void which it is impossible to suspect,' the eye which you see
before you.
And M. Nicole once more took the thing from his pocket and rapped the
table with it, producing the sound of a hard body with each rap.
Prasville whispered, in astonishment:
"A glass eye!"
"Why, of course!" cried M. Nicole, laughing gaily. "A glass eye! A
common or garden decanter-stopper, which the
rascal stuck into his
eyesocket in the place of an eye which he had lost - a decanter-stopper,
or, if you prefer, a
crystal stopper, but the real one, this time, which
he faked, which he hid behind the double
bulwark of his spectacles and
eye-glasses, which contained and still contains the talisman that enabled
Daubrecq to work as he pleased in safety."
Prasville lowered his head and put his hand to his
forehead to hide his
flushed face: he was almost possessing the list of the Twenty-seven. It
lay before him, on the table.
Mastering his
emotion, he said, in a
casual tone:
"So it is there still?"
"At least, I suppose so," declared M. Nicole.
"Whatl You suppose so?"
"I have not opened the hiding-place. I thought,
monsieur le
secreaire-general, I would reserve that honour for you."
Prasville put out his hand, took the thing up and inspected it. It was
a block of
crystal, imitating nature to
perfection, with all the details
of the eyeball, the iris, the pupil, the cornea.
He at once saw a movable part at the back, which slid in a
groove. He
pushed it. The eye was hollow.
There was a tiny ball of paper inside. He unfolded it, smoothed it out
and, quickly, without delaying to make a
preliminaryexamination of the
names, the hand-writing or the signatures, he raised his arms and turned
the paper to the light from the windows.
"Is the cross of Lorraine there?" asked M. Nicole.
"Yes, it is there," replied Prasville. "This is the
genuine list."
He hesitated a few seconds and remained with his arms raised, while
reflecting what he would do. Then he folded up the paper again, replaced
it in its little
crystalsheath and put the whole thing in his pocket.
M. Nicole, who was looking at him, asked:
"Are you convinced?"
"Absolutely."
"Then we are agreed?"
"We are agreed."
There was a pause, during which the two men watched each other without
appearing to. M. Nicole seemed to be
waiting for the conversation to be
resumed. Prasville, sheltered behind the piles of books on the table,
sat with one hand grasping his
revolver and the other
touching the push
of the electric bell. He felt the whole strength of his position with
a keen zest. He held the list. He held Lupin:
"If he moves," he thought, "I cover him with my
revolver and I ring. If
he attacks me, I shoot."
And the situation appeared to him so pleasant that he prolonged it, with
the
exquisiterelish of an epicure.
In the end, M. Nicole took up the threads:
"As we are agreed,
monsieur le secretaire-general, I think there is
nothing left for you to do but to hurry. Is the
execution to take place
to-morrow?"
"Yes, to - morrow."
"In that case, I shall wait here."
"Wait for what?"
"The answer from the Elysee."
"Oh, is some one to bring you an answer?"
"Yes."
"You,
monsieur le secretaire-geneal."
rasville shook his head:
You must not count on me, M. Nicole."
"Really?" said M. Nicole, with an air of surprise.
May I ask the reason?"
"I have changed my mind."
"Is that all?"
"That's all. I have come to the
conclusion that, as things stand, after
this last
scandal, it is impossible to try to do anything in Gilbert's
favour. Besides, an attempt in this direction at the Elysee, under
present conditions, would
constitute a regular case of
blackmail, to
which I
absolutely" target="_blank" title="ad.绝对地;确实">
absolutely decline to lend myself."
"You are free to do as you please,
monsieur. Your scruples do you honour,
though they come rather late, for they did not trouble you yesterday.
But, in that case,
monsieur le secretaire-general, as the compact
between us is destroyed, give me back the list of the Twenty-seven."
"What for?"
"So that I may apply to another spokesman."
"What's the good? Gilbert is lost."
"Not at all, not at all. On the
contrary, I consider that, now that his
accomplice is dead, it will be much easier to grant him a
pardon which
everybody will look upon as fair and
humane. Give me back the list."
"Upon my word,
monsieur, you have a short memory and none too nice a
conscience. Have you forgotten your promise of yesterday?"
"Yesterday, I made a promise to a M. Nicole."
"Well?"
"You are not M. Nicole."
"Indeed! Then, pray, who am I?"
"Need I tell you?"
M. Nicole made no reply, but began to laugh
softly, as though pleased
at the curious turn which the conversation was
taking; and Prasville
felt a vague
misgiving at observing that fit of
merriment. He grasped
the butt-end of his
revolver and wondered whether he ought not to ring
for help.
M. Nicole drew his chair close to the desk, put his two elbows on the
table, looked Prasville straight in the face and jeered:
"So, M. Prasvilie, you know who I am and you have the
assurance to play
this game with me?"
"I have that
assurance," said Prasvllle, accepting the sneer without
flinching.
"Which proves that you consider me, Arsene Lupin - we may as well use
the name: yes, Arsene Lupin - which proves that you consider me fool
enough, dolt enough to deliver myself like this, bound hand and foot
into your hands."
"Upon my word," said Prasville, airily, patting the waistcoat-pocket in
which he had secreted the
crystal ball, "I don't quite see what you can
do, M. Nicole, now that Daubrecq's eye is here, with the list of the
Twenty-seven inside it."
"What I can do?" echoed M. Nicole, ironically.
"Yes! The talisman no longer protects you; and you are now no better
off than any other man who might
venture into the very heart of the
police-office, among some dozens of stalwart fellows posted behind each
of those doors and some hundreds of others who will
hasten up at the
first signal."
M. Nicole shrugged his shoulders and gave Prasville a look of great
commiseration:
"Shall I tell you what is
happening,
monsieur le secretaire-general?
Well, you too are having your head turned by all this business Now that
you possess the list, your state of mind has suddenly sunk to that of a
Daubrecq or a d'Albufex. There is no longer even a question, in your
thoughts, of
taking it to your superiors, so that this
ferment of
disgrace and
discord may be ended. No, no; a sodden
temptation has
seized upon you and intoxicated you; and, losing your head, you say to
yourself, 'It is here, in my pocket. With its aid, I am omnipotent. It
means
wealth,
absolute, unbounded power. Why not benefit by it? Why
not let Gi1hert and Clarisse Mergy die? Why not lock up that idiot of
a Lupin? Why not seize this unparalleled piece of fortune by the
forelock?"'
He bent toward Prasville and, very
softly, in a friendly and confidential
tone, said:
"Don't do that, my dear sir, don't do it."
"And why not?"
"It is not to your interest, believe me."
"Really!"
"No. Or, if you
absolutely" target="_blank" title="ad.绝对地;确实">
absolutely insist on doing it, have the kindness first
to
consult the twenty-seven names on the list of which you have just
robbed me and
reflect, for a moment, on the name of the third person
on it."
"Oh? And what is the name of that third person?"
"It is the name of a friend of yours."
"What friend?
"Stanislas Vorenglade, the ex-
deputy."
"And then?" said Prasville, who seemed to be losing some of his
self-confidence.
"Then? Ask yourself if an
inquiry, however
summary, would not end by
discovering, behind that Stanislas Vorenglade, the name of one who
shared certain little profits with him."
"And whose name is?"
"Louis Prasville."
M. Nicole banged the table with his fist.
"Enough of this humbug,
monsieur! For twenty minutes, you and I have
been
beating about the bush. That will do. Let us understand each other.
And, to begin with, drop your pistols. You can't imagine that I am
frightened of those playthings! Stand up, sir, stand up, as I am doing,
and finish the business: I am in a hurry."
He put his hand on Prasville's shoulder and,
speaking with great
deliberation, said:
"If, within an hour from now, you are not back from the Elysee, bringing
with you a line to say that the
decree of
pardon has been signed; if,
within one hour and ten minutes, I, Arsene Lupin, do not walk out of
this building safe and sound and
absolutely" target="_blank" title="ad.绝对地;确实">
absolutely free, this evening four
Paris newspapers will receive four letters selected from the
correspondence exchanged between Stanislas Vorenglade and yourself, the
correspondence which Stanislas Vorenglade sold me this morning. Here's
your hat, here's your
overcoat, here's your stick. Be off. I will wait
for you."
Then happened this
extraordinary and yet easily understood thing, that
Prasville did not raise the slightest protest nor make the least show
of fight. He received the sudden,
far-reaching, utter
conviction of
what the
personality known as Arsene Lupin meant, in all its breadth
and fulness. He did not so much as think of carping, of pretending
- as he had until then believed - that the letters had been destroyed
by Vorenglade the
deputy or, at any rate, that Vorenglade would not dare
to hand them over, because, in so doing, Vorenglade was also
working his
own
destruction. No, Prasville did not speak a word He felt himsell
caught in a vise of which no human strength could force the jaws asunder.
There was nothing to do but yield. He yielded.
"Here, in an hour,"
repeated M. Nicole.
"In an hour," said Prasville, tamely. Nevertheless, in order to know
exactly where he stood, he added, "The letters, of course, will be
restored to me against Gilbert's
pardon?"
"No."
"How do you mean, no? In that case, there is no object in... "
"They will be restored to you,
intact, two months after the day when my
friends and I have brought about Gilbert's escape... thanks to the very
slack watch which will be kept upon him, in
accordance with your orders."
"Is that all?"
"No, there are two further conditions: first, the immediate
payment of
a cheque for forty thousand francs."
"Forty thousand francs?"
"The sum for which Stanislas Vorenglade sold me the letters. It is only
fair... "
"And next?"
"Secondly, your
resignation, within six months, of your present position."
"My
resignation? But why?"
M.. Nicole made a very
dignified gesture:
"Because it is against public morals that one of the highest positions
in the police-service should be occupied by a man whose hands are not