He continued his inspection of the first pocket-book. There were scraps of letters, in cipher, no doubt handed to Dolores by her accomplices, in the course of their nocturnal meetings. There were also addresses on bits of paper, addresses of milliners and dressmakers, but addresses also of low haunts, of common hotels. . . . And names . . . twenty, thirty names . . . queer names: Hector the Butcher, Armand of Grenelle, the Sick Man . . . But a photograph caught Lupin's eye. He looked at it. And, at once, as though shot from a spring, dropping the pocket-book, he bolted out of the room, out of the chalet and rushed into the park. He had recognized the portrait of Louis de Malreich, the prisoner at the Santé! Not till then, not till that exact moment did he remember: the execution was to take place next day. And, as the man in black, as the murderer was none other than Dolores Kesselbach, Louis de Malreich's name was really and truly Leon Massier and he was innocent! Innocent? But the evidence found in his house, the Emperor's letters, all, all the things that accused him beyond hope of denial, all those incontrovertible proofs? Lupin stopped for a second, with his brain on fire: "Oh," he cried, "I shall go mad, I, too! Come, though, I must act . . . the sentence is to be executed . . . to-morrow . . . to-morrow at break of day." He looked at his watch: "Ten o'clock. . . . How long will it take me to reach Paris? Well . . . I shall be there presently . . . yes, presently, I must. . . . And this very evening I shall take measures to prevent. . . . But what measures? How can I prove his innocence? . . . How prevent the execution? Oh, never mind! Once I am there, I shall find a way. My name is not Lupin for nothing! . . . Come on! . . ." He set off again at a run, entered the castle and called out: "Pierre! Pierre! . . . Has any one seen M. Pierre Leduc? . . . Oh, there you are! . . . Listen. . . ." He took him on one side and jerked out, in imperious tones: "Listen, Dolores is not here. . . . Yes, she was called away on urgent business . . . she left last night in my motor. . . . I am going too. . . . Don't interrupt, not a word! . . . A second lost means irreparable harm. . . . You, send away all the servants, without any explanation. Here is money. In half an hour from now, the castle must be empty. And let no one enter it until I return. . . . Not you either, do you understand? . . . I forbid you to enter the castle. . . . I'll explain later . . . serious reasons. Here, take the key with you. . . . Wait for me in the village. . . ." And once more, he darted away. Five minutes later, he was with Octave. He jumped into the car: "Paris!" * * * * *