There was a fresh silence between the two enemies, a terrible silence. Then the baron sneered: "All the same, it's a holy joy to see you like that, sniveling and begging. I say, it seems to me that the private soldier is giving his general a sound beating!" "You ass!" muttered Sernine. "Prince, I shall send you my seconds this evening . . . if you are still in this world." "You ass!" repeated Sernine, with infinite contempt. "You would rather settle the matter here and now? As you please, prince: your last hour has struck. You can commend your soul to God. You smile! That's a mistake. I have one immense advantage over you! I kill . . . when it's necessary. . . ." "You ass!" said Sernine once more. He took out his watch. "It is two o'clock, baron. You have only a few minutes left. At five past two, ten past at the very latest, M. Weber and half-a-dozen sturdy men, without a scruple amongst them, will lay hands on you. . . . Don't you smile, either. The outlet on which you're reckoning is discovered; I know it: it is guarded. So you are thoroughly caught. It means the scaffold, old chap." Altenheim turned livid. He stammered: "You did this? . . . You have had the infamy . . ." "The house is surrounded. The assault is at hand. Speak . . . and I will save you." "How?" "The men watching the outlet in the Pavillon Hortense belong to me. I have only to give you a word for them and you are saved. Speak!" Altenheim reflected for a few seconds and seemed to hesitate; but, suddenly, resolutely, declared: "This is all bluff. You would never have been simple enough to rush into the lion's mouth." "You're forgetting Geneviève. But for her, do you think I should be here? Speak!" "No." "Very well. Let us wait," said Sernine. "A cigarette?" "Thank you." A few seconds passed. "Do you hear?" asked Sernine. "Yes . . . yes . . ." said Altenheim, rising. Blows rang against the gate. Sernine observed: "Not even the usual summons . . . no preliminaries. . . . Your mind is still made up?" "More so than ever." "You know that, with the tools they carry, they won't take long?" "If they were inside this room I should still refuse." The gate yielded. They heard it creak on its hinges. "To allow one's self to get nabbed," said Sernine, "is admissible. But to hold out one's own hands to the handcuffs is too silly. Come, don't be obstinate. Speak . . . and bolt!" "And you?" "I shall remain. What have I to be afraid of?" "Look!" The baron pointed to a chink between the shutters. Sernine put his eye to it and jumped back with a start: "Oh, you scoundrel, so you have denounced me, too! It's not ten men that Weber's bringing, but fifty men, a hundred, two hundred. . . ." The baron laughed open-heartedly: "And, if there are so many of them, it's because they're after Lupin; that's obvious! Half-a-dozen would have been enough for me." "You informed the police?" "Yes." "What proof did you give?"