This statement did not seem to displease the adventurer. "Aha, the finest two hundred diamonds! But, I say, that's a fortune! . . . Yes, that makes you smile. . . . It's a trifle to you, no doubt. . . . And your secret is worth more than that. . . . To you, yes . . . but to me? . . ." He took a cigar, lit a match, which he allowed to go out again mechanically, and sat for some time thinking, motionless. The minutes passed. He began to laugh: "I dare say you're hoping that the expedition will come to nothing and that they won't open the safe? . . . Very likely, old chap! But, in that case, you'll have to pay me for my trouble. I did not come here to see what sort of figure you cut in an arm-chair. . . . The diamonds, since diamonds there appear to be . . . or else the morocco case. . . . There's your dilemma." He looked at his watch. "Half an hour. . . . Hang it all! . . . Fate is moving very slowly. . . . But there's nothing for you to grin at, Mr. Kesselbach. I shall not go back empty-handed, make no mistake about that! . . . At last!" It was the telephone-bell. Lupin snatched at the receiver and, changing the sound of his voice, imitated the rough accent of his prisoner: "Yes, Rudolf Kesselbach . . . you're speaking to him. . . . Yes, please, mademoiselle, put me on. . . . Is that you, Marco? . . . Good. . . . Did it go off all right? . . . Excellent! . . . No hitch? . . . My best compliments! . . . Well, what did you pick up? . . . The ebony box? . . . Nothing else? . . . No papers? . . . Tut, tut! . . . And what's in the box? . . . Are they fine diamonds? . . . Capital, capital! . . . One minute, Marco, while I think. . . . You see, all this. . . . If I were to tell you my opinion. . . . Wait, don't go away . . . hold the line. . . ." He turned round. "Mr. Kesselbach, are you keen on your diamonds?" "Yes." "Would you buy them back of me?" "Possibly." "For how much? Five hundred thousand francs?" "Five hundred thousand . . . yes." "Only, here's the rub: how are we to make the exchange? A cheque? No, you'd swindle me . . . or else I'd swindle you. . . . Listen. On the day after to-morrow, go to the Crédit Lyonnais in the morning, draw out your five hundred bank-notes of a thousand each and go for a walk in the Bois, on the Auteuil side. . . . I shall have the diamonds in a bag: that's handier. . . . The box shows too much. . . ." Kesselbach gave a start: "No, no . . . the box, too. . . . I want everything. . . ." "Ah," cried Lupin, shouting with laughter, "you've fallen into the trap! . . . The diamonds you don't care about . . . they can be replaced. . . . But you cling to that box as you cling to your skin. . . . Very well, you shall have your box . . . on the word of Arsène . . . you shall have it to-morrow morning, by parcel post!" He went back to the telephone: