Patrice was stupefied. He had utterly forgotten Ya-Bon's proposal and the unthinking permission which he had given him to call in the famous adventurer. And here was Arsène Lupin standing in front of him, Arsène Lupin, who, by a sheer effort of will that resembled an incredible miracle, had dragged him and Coralie out of their hermetically-sealed coffin. He held out his hand and said: "Thank you!" "Tut!" said Don Luis, playfully. "No thanks! Just a good hand-shake, that's all. And I'm a man you can shake hands with, captain, believe me. I may have a few peccadilloes on my conscience, but on the other hand I have committed a certain number of good actions which should win me the esteem of decent folk . . . beginning with my own. And so . . ." He interrupted himself again, seemed to reflect and, taking Patrice by a button of his jacket, said: "Don't move. We are being watched." "By whom?" "Some one on the quay, right at the end of the garden. The wall is not high. There's a grating on the top of it. They're looking through the bars and trying to see us." "How do you know? You have your back turned to the quay; and then there are the trees." "Listen." "I don't hear anything out of the way." "Yes, the sound of an engine . . . the engine of a stopping car. Now what would a car want to stop here for, on the quay, opposite a wall with no house near it?" "Then who do you think it is?" "Why, old Siméon, of course!" "Old Siméon!" "Certainly. He's looking to see whether I've really saved the two of you." "Then he's not mad?" "Mad? No more mad than you or I!" "And yet . . ." "What you mean is that Siméon used to protect you; that his object was to bring you two together; that he sent you the key of the garden-door; and so on and so on." "Do you know all that?" "Well, of course! If not, how could I have rescued you?" "But," said Patrice, anxiously, "suppose the scoundrel returns to the attack. Ought we not to take some precautions? Let's go back to the lodge: Coralie is all alone." "There's no danger." "Why?" "Because I'm here." Patrice was more astounded than ever: "Then Siméon knows you?" he asked. "He knows that you are here?" "Yes, thanks to a letter which I wrote you under cover to Ya-Bon and which he intercepted. I told you that I was coming; and he hurried to get to work. Only, as my habit is on these occasions, I hastened on my arrival by a few hours, so that I caught him in the act." "At that moment you did not know he was the enemy; you knew nothing?" "Nothing at all." "Was it this morning?" "No, this afternoon, at a quarter to two." Patrice took out his watch: "And it's now four. So in two hours . . ." "Not that. I've been here an hour." "Did you find out from Ya-Bon?" "Do you think I've no better use for my time? Ya-Bon simply told me that you were not there, which was enough to astonish me." "After that?" "I looked to see where you were." "How?"