He rang the bell. The garden-gate opened and he walked to the front-door
steps, where he was awaited by two tall men in livery who ushered him
into an immense, cold, stone hall, devoid of any ornament. The door
closed behind him with a heavy thud; and, great and indomitable as his
courage was, he nevertheless underwent an unpleasant sensation at
feeling himself alone, surrounded by enemies, in that isolated prison.
"Say Prince Sernine."
The drawing-room was near and he was shown straight in.
"Ah, there you are, my dear prince!" said the baron, coming toward him.
"Well, will you believe--Dominique, lunch in twenty minutes. Until then,
don't let us be interrupted--will you believe, my dear prince, that I
hardly expected to see you?"
"Oh, really? Why?"
"Well, your declaration of war, this morning, is so plain that an
interview becomes superfluous."
"My declaration of war?"
The baron unfolded a copy of the _Grand Journal_ and pointed to a
paragraph which ran as follows:
"We are authoritatively informed that M. Lenormand's
disappearance has roused Arsène Lupin into taking
action. After a brief enquiry and following on his
proposal to clear up the Kesselbach case, Arsène Lupin
has decided that he will find M. Lenormand, alive or
dead, and that he will deliver the author or authors
of that heinous series of crimes to justice."
"This authoritative pronouncement comes from you, my dear prince, of
course?"
"Yes, it comes from me."
"Therefore, I was right: it means war."
"Yes."
Altenheim gave Sernine a chair, sat down himself and said, in a
conciliatory tone:
"Well, no, I cannot allow that. It is impossible that two men like
ourselves should fight and injure each other. We have only to come to an
explanation, to seek the means: you and I were made to understand each
other."
"I think, on the contrary, that two men like ourselves are not made to
understand each other."
The baron suppressed a movement of impatience and continued:
"Listen to me, Lupin. . . . By the way, do you mind my calling you
Lupin?"
"What shall I call you? Altenheim, Ribeira, or Parbury?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account