“If, then, he did not make the attempt last night, when he had a clear field—when the house was empty—he certainly will not make the attempt now when we are warned, when the police are on the spot, and the house is surrounded. The idea is childish, gentlemen”—he leaned against the door of the safe—“absolutely childish, but Guerchard is mad on this point; and I foresee that his madness is going to hamper us in the most idiotic way.” He suddenly pitched forward into the middle of the room, as the door of the safe opened with a jerk, and Guerchard shot out of it. “What the devil!” cried M. Formery, gaping at him. “You’d be surprised how clearly you hear everything in these safes—you’d think they were too thick,” said Guerchard, in his gentle, husky voice. “How on earth did you get into it?” cried M. Formery. “Getting in was easy enough. It’s the getting out that was awkward. These jokers had fixed up some kind of a spring so that I nearly shot out with the door,” said Guerchard, rubbing his elbow. “But how did you get into it? How the deuce DID you get into it?” cried M. Formery. “Through the little cabinet into which that door behind the safe opens. There’s no longer any back to the safe; they’ve cut it clean out of it—a very neat piece of work. Safes like this should always be fixed against a wall, not stuck in front of a door. The backs of them are always the weak point.” “And the key? The key of the safe upstairs, in my bedroom, where the coronet is—is the key there?” cried M. Gournay-Martin. Guerchard went back into the empty safe, and groped about in it. He came out smiling. “Well, have you found the key?” cried the millionaire. “No. I haven’t; but I’ve found something better,” said Guerchard. “What is it?” said M. Formery sharply. “I’ll give you a hundred guesses,” said Guerchard with a tantalizing smile. “What is it?” said M. Formery. “A little present for you,” said Guerchard. “What do you mean?” cried M. Formery angrily. Guerchard held up a card between his thumb and forefinger and said quietly: “The card of Arsène Lupin.” CHAPTER XIV GUERCHARD PICKS UP THE TRUE SCENT The millionaire gazed at the card with stupefied eyes, the inspector gazed at it with extreme intelligence, the Duke gazed at it with interest, and M. Formery gazed at it with extreme disgust. “It’s part of the same ruse—it was put there to throw us off the scent. It proves nothing—absolutely nothing,” he said scornfully. “No; it proves nothing at all,” said Guerchard quietly. “The telegram is the important thing—this telegram,” said M. Gournay-Martin feverishly. “It concerns the coronet. Is it going to be disregarded?” “Oh, no, no,” said M. Formery in a soothing tone. “It will be taken into account. It will certainly be taken into account.” M. Gournay-Martin’s butler appeared in the doorway of the drawing-room: “If you please, sir, lunch is served,” he said.