The Emperor hesitated and then, with an abrupt movement, took the letter, put on his hat, wrapped his cloak round him and walked out without a word. Lupin remained for a few seconds, staggering, as though dazed. . . . Then, suddenly, he fell into his chair, shouting with joy and pride. . . . * * * * * "Monsieur le Juge d'Instruction, I am sorry to say good-bye to you to-day." "Why, M. Lupin, are you thinking of leaving us?" "With the greatest reluctance, I assure you, Monsieur le Juge d'Instruction. Our relations have been so very pleasant and cordial! But all good things must come to an end. My cure at the Santé Palace is finished. Other duties call me. I have resolved to make my escape to-night." "Then I wish you good luck, M. Lupin." "A thousand thanks, M. le Juge d'Instruction." Arsène Lupin waited patiently for the hour of his escape, not without asking himself how it would be contrived and by what means France and Germany, uniting for the joint performance of this deserving work, would succeed in effecting it without creating too great a scandal. Late in the afternoon, the warder told him to go to the entrance-yard. He hurried out and was met by the governor, who handed him over to M. Weber. M. Weber made him step into a motor-car in which somebody was already seated. Lupin had a violent fit of laughter: "What, you, my poor old Weber! Have they let you in for this tiresome job? Are you to be responsible for my escape? Upon my word, you are an unlucky beggar! Oh, my poor old chap, what hard lines! First made famous through my arrest, you are now to become immortal through my escape!" He looked at the other man: "Well, well, Monsieur le Préfet de Police, so you are in the business too! That's a nasty thing for you, what? If you take my advice, you'll stay in the background and leave the honor and glory to Weber! It's his by right! . . . And he can stand a lot, the rascal!" The car travelled at a fast pace, along the Seine and through Boulogne. At Saint-Cloud, they crossed the river. "Splendid!" cried Lupin. "We're going to Garches! You want me there, in order to reënact the death of Altenheim. We shall go down into the underground passage, I shall disappear and people will say that I got through another outlet, known to myself alone! Lord, how idiotic!" He seemed quite unhappy about it: "Idiotic! Idiotic in the highest degree! I blush for shame! . . . And those are the people who govern us! . . . What an age to live in! . . . But, you poor devils, why didn't you come to me? I'd have invented a beautiful little escape for you, something of a miraculous nature. I had it all ready pigeon-holed in my mind! The public would have yelled with wonder and danced with delight. Instead of which . . . However, it's quite true that you were given rather short notice . . . but all the same . . ."