"He was of French origin, but born in Germany . . . I saw some papers once . . . that was how I came to know his name. . . . Oh, if he had found it out, he would have wrung my neck, I believe!" Lupin reflected and said: "Did he command the lot of you?" "Yes." "But he had an accomplice, a partner?" "Oh hush . . . hush . . . !" The head-waiter's face suddenly expressed the most intense alarm. Lupin noticed the same sort of terror and repulsion which he himself felt when he thought of the murderer. "Who is he? Have you seen him?" "Oh, don't let us talk of that one . . . it doesn't do to talk of him." "Who is he, I'm asking you." "He is the master . . . the chief. . . . Nobody knows him." "But you've seen him, you. Answer me. Have you seen him?" "Sometimes, in the dark . . . at night. Never by daylight. His orders come on little scraps of paper . . . or by telephone." "His name?" "I don't know it. We never used to speak of him. It was unlucky." "He dresses in black, doesn't he?" "Yes, in black. He is short and slender . . . with fair hair. . . ." "And he kills, doesn't he?" "Yes, he kills . . . he kills where another might steal a bit of bread." His voice shook. He entreated: "Let us stop this . . . it won't do to talk of him. . . . I tell you . . . it's unlucky." Lupin was silent, impressed, in spite of himself, by the man's anguish. He sat long thinking and then rose and said to the head-waiter: "Here, here's your money; but, if you want to live in peace, you will do well not to breathe a word of our conversation to anybody." He left the restaurant with Doudeville and walked to the Porte Saint-Denis without speaking, absorbed in all that he had heard. At last, he seized his companion's arm and said: "Listen to me, Doudeville, carefully. Go to the Gare du Nord. You will get there in time to catch the Luxemburg express. Go to Veldenz, the capital of the grand-duchy of Zweibrucken-Veldenz. At the town-hall, you will easily obtain the birth-certificate of the Chevalier de Malreich and further information about the family. You will be back on the day after to-morrow: that will be Saturday." "Am I to let them know at the detective-office?" "I'll see to that. I shall telephone that you are ill. Oh, one word more: on Saturday, meet me at twelve o'clock in a little café on the Route de la Revolte, called the Restaurant Buffalo. Come dressed as a workman." * * * * * The next day, Lupin, wearing a short smock and a cap, went down to Neuilly and began his investigations at No. 3, Route de la Revolte. A gateway opened into an outer yard; and here he found a huge block of workmen's dwellings, a whole series of passages and workshops, with a swarming population of artisans, women and brats. In a few minutes, he had won the good-will of the portress, with whom he chatted for an hour on the most varied topics. During this hour, he saw three men pass, one after the other, whose manner struck him: