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One by one he loosened the stones that stood out at the height of his hand, in the hope of contriving another gallery that would slope upwards to the level of the soil. But the work was long and painful, for in this part of the tunnel, as he perceived the stones were cemented.

"Chief.. chief," stammered Gourel, in a stifled voice..

"Well?"

"You are standing with your feet in the water."

"Nonsense!.. Why, so I am!.. Well, it can't be helped… I'll dry them in the sun.."

"But don't you see?"

"What?"

"Why, it's rising, chief, it's rising!."

"What's rising?"

"The water!."

M. Lenormand felt a shudder pass over his skin. He suddenly understood. It was not a casual trickling through, as he had thought, but a carefully-prepared flood, mechanically, irresistibly produced by some infernal system.

"Oh, the scoundrel!" he snarled. "If ever I lay hands on him.. !"

"Yes, yes, chief, but we must first get out of this… And, as far as I can see."

Gourel seemed completely prostrated, incapable of having an idea, of proposing a plan.

M. Lenormand knelt down on the ground and measured the rate at which the water was rising. A quarter, or thereabouts, of the first door was covered; and the water was half-way toward the second door.

"The progress is slow, but uninterrupted," he said "In a few hours it will be over our heads."

"But this is terrible, chief, it's horrible!" moaned Gourel.

"Oh, look here, don't come boring me with your lamentations, do you understand? Cry, if it amuses you, but don't let me hear you!"

"It's the hunger that weakens me, chief; my brain's going round."

"Bite your fist!"

As Gourel said, the position was terrible; and, if M. Lenormand had had less energy, he would have abandoned the vain struggle. What was to be done? It was no use hoping that Ribeira would have the charity to let them out. It was no use either hoping that the brothers Doudeville would rescue them, for the inspectors did not know of the existence of the tunnel. So no hope remained.. no hope but that of an impossible miracle..

"Come, come," said M. Lenormand, "this is too silly. We're not going to kick the bucket here! Hang it all, there must be something!.. Show me a light, Gourel."

Flattening himself against the second door, he examined it from top to bottom, in every corner. There was an enormous bolt on that side, just as there probably was on the other. He unfastened the screws with the blade of his knife; and the bolt came off in his hand.

"And what next?" asked Gourel.

"What next?" he echoed. "Well, this bolt is made of iron, pretty long and very nearly pointed. Certainly, it's not as good as a pick-axe, but it's better than nothing and."

Without finishing his sentence, he drove the implement into the side-wall of the tunnel, a little in front of the pillar of masonry that supported the hinges of the door. As he expected, once he had passed the first layer of cement and stones, he found soft earth:

"To work!" he cried.

"Certainly, chief, but would you explain.. ?"

"It's quite simple. I want to dig round this pillar a passage, three or four yards long, which will join the tunnel on the other side of the door and allow us to escape."

"But it will take us hours; and meanwhile, the water is rising."

"Show me a light, Gourel."

"In twenty minutes, or half an hour at most, it will have reached our feet."

"Show me a light, Gourel."

M. Lenormand's idea was correct and, with some little exertion, by pulling the earth, which he first loosened with his implement, towards him and making it fall into the tunnel, he was not long in digging a hole large enough to slip into.

"It's my turn, chief!" said Gourel.

"Aha, you're returning to life, I see! Well, fire away!.. You have only to follow the shape of the pillar."

At that moment, the water was up to their ankles. Would they have time to complete the work begun?

It became more difficult as they went on, for the earth which they disturbed was in their way; and, lying flat on their stomachs in the passage, they were obliged at every instant to remove the rubbish that obstructed them.

After two hours, the work was perhaps three-quarters through, but the water now covered their legs. Another hour and it would reach the opening of the hole which they were digging. And that would mean the end!

Gourel, who was exhausted by the want of food and who was too stout to move with any freedom in that ever-narrower passage, had had to give up. He no longer stirred, trembling with anguish at feeling that icy water which was gradually swallowing him up.

As for M. Lenormand, he worked on with indefatigable ardor. It was a terrible job, this ants' work performed in the stifling darkness. His hands were bleeding. He was fainting with hunger. The insufficiency of the air hampered his breathing; and, from time to time, Gourel's sighs reminded him of the awful danger that threatened him at the bottom of his hole.

But nothing could discourage him, for now he again found opposite him those cemented stones which formed the side-wall of the gallery. It was the most difficult part, but the end was at hand.

"It's rising," cried Gourel, in a choking voice, "it's rising!"

M. Lenormand redoubled his efforts. Suddenly the stem of the bolt which he was using leapt out into space. The passage was dug. He had now only to widen it, which became much easier once he was able to shoot the materials in front of him.

Gourel, mad with terror, was howling like a dying beast. M. Lenormand paid no attention to him. Safety was at hand.

Nevertheless, he had a few seconds of anxiety when he perceived, by the sound of the materials falling, that this part of the tunnel was also under water, which was natural, as the door did not form a sufficiently tight-fitting barrier. But what did it matter! The outlet was free. One last effort.. he passed through.

"Come, Gourel," he cried, returning to fetch his companion.

He dragged him, half dead, by the wrists:

"Come along, booby, pull yourself together! We are saved."

"Do you really think so, chief?.. The water's up to our chests.."

"Never mind, as long as it's not over our mouths… Where's your lantern?"

"It's not working."

"No matter." He gave an exclamation of delight. "One step.. two steps!.. A staircase… At last!"

They emerged from the water, that accursed water which had almost swallowed them up; and it was a delicious sensation, a release that sent up their spirits.

"Stop!" said M. Lenormand.

His head had knocked against something. With arms outstretched, he pushed against the obstacle, which yielded at once. It was the flap of a trap-door; and, when this trap-door was opened, he found himself in a cellar into which the light of a fine night filtered through an air-hole.

He threw back the flap and climbed the last treads.

Then a veil fell over his eyes. Arms seized upon him. He felt himself as it were wrapped in a sheet, in a sort of sack, and then fastened with cords.

"Now for the other one!" said a voice.

The same operation must have been performed on Gourel; and the same voice said:

"If they call out, kill them at once. Have you your dagger?"

"Yes."

"Come along. You two, take this one.. you two, that one… No light.. and no noise either… It would be a serious matter. They've been searching the garden next door since this morning.. there are ten or fifteen of them knocking about… Go back to the house, Gertrude, and, if the least thing happens, telephone to me in Paris."

M. Lenormand felt that he was being lifted up and carried and, a moment after, that he was in the open air.

"Bring the cart nearer," said a voice.

M. Lenormand heard the sound of a horse and cart.

He was laid out on some boards. Gourel was hoisted up beside him. The horse started at a trot.

The drive lasted about half an hour.

"Halt!" commanded the voice. "Lift them out. Here, driver, turn the cart so that the tail touches the parapet of the bridge… Good… No boats on the river? Sure? Then let's waste no time… Oh, have you fastened some stones to them?"

"Yes, paving-stones."

"Right away, then! Commend your soul to God, M. Lenormand, and pray for me, Parbury-Ribeira, better known by the name of Baron Altenheim. Are you ready? All right? Well, here's wishing you a pleasant journey, M. Lenormand!"

M. Lenormand was placed on the parapet. Someone gave him a push. He felt himself falling into space and he still heard the voice chuckling:

"A pleasant journey!"

Ten seconds later it was Sergeant Gourel's turn.

CHAPTER VII
PARBURY-RIBEIRA-ALTENHEIM

The girls were playing in the garden, under the supervision of Mlle. Charlotte, Geneviève's new assistant. Mme. Ernemont came out, distributed some cakes among them and then went back to the room which served as a drawing-room and parlor in one, sat down before a writing-desk and began to arrange her papers and account-books.

Suddenly, she felt the presence of a stranger in the room. She turned round in alarm:

"You!" she cried. "Where have you come from? How did you get in?"

"Hush!" said Prince Sernine. "Listen to me and do not let us waste a minute: Geneviève?"

"Calling on Mrs. Kesselbach."

"When will she be here?"

"Not before an hour."

"Then I will let the brothers Doudeville come. I have an appointment with them. How is Geneviève?"

"Very well."

"How often has she seen Pierre Leduc since I went away, ten days ago?"

"Three times; and she is to meet him to-day at Mrs. Kesselbach's, to whom she introduced him, as you said she must. Only, I may as well tell you that I don't think much of this Pierre Leduc of yours. Geneviève would do better to find some good fellow in her own class of life. For instance, there's the schoolmaster."

"You're mad! Geneviève marry a schoolmaster!"

"Oh, if you considered Geneviève's happiness first.."

"Shut up, Victoire. You're boring me with your cackle. I have no time to waste on sentiment. I'm playing a game of chess; and I move my men without troubling about what they think. When I have won the game, I will go into the question whether the knight, Pierre Leduc, and the queen, Geneviève, have a heart or not."

She interrupted him:

"Did you hear? A whistle.."

"It's the two Doudevilles. Go and bring them in; and then leave us."

As soon as the two brothers were in the room, he questioned them with his usual precision:

"I know what the newspapers have said about the disappearance of Lenormand and Gourel. Do you know any more?"

"No. The deputy-chief, M. Weber, has taken the case in hand. We have been searching the garden of the House of Retreat for the past week; and nobody is able to explain how they can have disappeared. The whole force is in a flutter… No one has ever seen the like.. a chief of the detective-service disappearing, without leaving a trace behind him!"

"The two maids?"

"Gertrude has gone. She is being looked for."

"Her sister Suzanne?"

"M. Weber and M. Formerie have questioned her. There is nothing against her."

"Is that all you have to tell me?"

"Oh, no, there are other things, all the things which we did not tell the papers."

They then described the incidents that had marked M. Lenormand's last two days: the night visit of the two ruffians to Pierre Leduc's villa; next day, Ribeira's attempt to kidnap Geneviève and the chase through the Saint-Cucufa woods; old Steinweg's arrival, his examination at the detective-office in Mrs. Kesselbach's presence, his escape from the Palais..

"And no one knows these details except yourselves?"

"Dieuzy knows about the Steinweg incident: he told us of it."

"And they still trust you at the Prefecture of Police?"

"So much so that they employ us openly. M. Weber swears by us."

"Come," said the prince, "all is not lost. If M. Lenormand has committed an imprudence that has cost him his life, as I suppose he did, at any rate he performed some good work first; and we have only to continue it. The enemy has the start of us, but we will catch him up."

"It won't be an easy job, governor."

"Why not? It is only a matter of finding old Steinweg again, for the answer to the riddle is in his hands."

"Yes, but where has Ribeira got old Steinweg tucked away?"

"At his own place, of course."

"Then we should have to know where Ribeira hangs out."

"Well, of course!"

He dismissed them and went to the House of Retreat. Motor-cars were awaiting outside the door and two men were walking up and down, as though mounting guard.

In the garden, near Mrs. Kesselbach's house, he saw Geneviève sitting on a bench with Pierre Leduc and a thick-set gentleman wearing a single eye-glass. The three were talking and none of them saw him. But several people came out of the house: M. Formerie, M. Weber, a magistrate's clerk, and two inspectors. Geneviève went indoors and the gentleman with the eye-glass went up and spoke to the examining-magistrate and the deputy-chief of the detective-service and walked away with them slowly.

Sernine came beside the bench where Pierre Leduc was sitting and whispered:

"Don't move, Pierre Leduc; it's I."

"You!.. you!."

It was the third time that the young man saw Sernine since the awful night at Versailles; and each time it upset him.

"Tell me.. who is the fellow with the eye-glass?"

Pierre Leduc turned pale and jabbered. Sernine pinched his arm:

"Answer me, confound it! Who is he?"

"Baron Altenheim."

"Where does he come from?"

"He was a friend of Mr. Kesselbach's. He arrived from Austria, six days ago, and placed himself at Mrs. Kesselbach's disposal."

The police authorities had, meanwhile, gone out of the garden; Baron Altenheim also.

The prince rose and, turning towards the Pavillon de l'Impératrice, continued:

"Has the baron asked you many questions?"

"Yes, a great many. He is interested in my case. He wants to help me find my family. He appealed to my childhood memories."

"And what did you say?"

"Nothing, because I know nothing. What memories have I? You put me in another's place and I don't even know who that other is."

"No more do I!" chuckled the prince. "And that's just what makes your case so quaint."

"Oh, it's all very well for you to laugh.. you're always laughing!.. But I'm beginning to have enough of it… I'm mixed up in a heap of nasty matters.. to say nothing of the danger which I run in pretending to be somebody that I am not."

"What do you mean.. that you are not? You're quite as much a duke as I am a prince.. perhaps even more so… Besides, if you're not a duke, hurry up and become one, hang it all! Geneviève can't marry any one but a duke! Look at her: isn't she worth selling your soul for?"

He did not even look at Leduc, not caring what he thought. They had reached the house by this time; and Geneviève appeared at the foot of the steps, comely and smiling:

"So you have returned?" she said to the prince. "Ah, that's a good thing! I am so glad… Do you want to see Dolores?"

After a moment, she showed him into Mrs. Kesselbach's room. The prince was taken aback. Dolores was paler still and thinner than on the day when he saw her last. Lying on a sofa, wrapped up in white stuffs, she looked like one of those sick people who have ceased to struggle against death. As for her, she had ceased to struggle against life, against the fate that was overwhelming her with its blows.

Sernine gazed at her with deep pity and with an emotion which he did not strive to conceal. She thanked him for the sympathy which he showed her. She also spoke of Baron Altenheim, in friendly terms.

"Did you know him before?" he asked.

"Yes, by name, and through his intimacy with my husband."

"I have met an Altenheim who lives in the Rue de Rivoli. Do you think it's the same?"

"Oh, no, this one lives in.. As a matter of fact, I don't quite know; he gave me his address, but I can't say that I remember it.."

After a few minutes' conversation, Sernine took his leave. Geneviève was waiting for him in the hall:

"I want to speak to you," she said eagerly, "on a serious matter… Did you see him?"

"Whom?"

"Baron Altenheim… But that's not his name.. or, at least, he has another… I recognized him.. he does not know it."

She dragged him out of doors and walked on in great excitement.

"Calm yourself, Geneviève.."

"He's the man who tried to carry me off… But for that poor M. Lenormand, I should have been done for… Come, you must know, for you know everything.."

"Then his real name is."

"Ribeira."

"Are you sure?"

"It was no use his changing his appearance, his accent, his manner: I knew him at once, by the horror with which he inspires me. But I said nothing.. until you returned."

"You said nothing to Mrs. Kesselbach either?"

"No. She seemed so happy at meeting a friend of her husband's. But you will speak to her about it, will you not? You will protect her… I don't know what he is preparing against her, against myself… Now that M. Lenormand is no longer there, he has nothing to fear, he does as he pleases. Who can unmask him?"

"I can. I will be responsible for everything. But not a word to anybody."

They had reached the porter's lodge. The gate was opened. The prince said:

"Good-bye, Geneviève, and be quite easy in your mind. I am there."

He shut the gate, turned round and gave a slight start. Opposite him stood the man with the eye-glass, Baron Altenheim, with his head held well up, his broad shoulders, his powerful frame.

They looked at each other for two or three seconds, in silence. The baron smiled.

Then the baron said:

"I was waiting for you, Lupin."

For all his self-mastery, Sernine felt a thrill pass over him. He had come to unmask his adversary; and his adversary had unmasked him at the first onset. And, at the same time, the adversary was accepting the contest boldly, brazenly, as though he felt sure of victory. It was a swaggering thing to do and gave evidence of no small amount of pluck.

The two men, violently hostile one to the other, took each other's measure with their eyes.

"And what then?" asked Sernine.

"What then? Don't you think we have occasion for a meeting?"

"Why?"

"I want to talk to you."

"What day will suit you?"

"To-morrow. Let us lunch together at a restaurant."

"Why not at your place?"

"You don't know my address."

"Yes, I do."

With a swift movement, the prince pulled out a newspaper protruding from Altenheim's pocket, a paper still in its addressed wrapper, and said:

"No. 29, Villa Dupont."

"Well played!" said the other. "Then we'll say, to-morrow, at my place."

"To-morrow, at your place. At what time?"

"One o'clock."

"I shall be there. Good-bye."

They were about to walk away. Altenheim stopped:

"Oh, one word more, prince. Bring a weapon with you."

"Why?"

"I keep four men-servants and you will be alone."

"I have my fists," said Sernine. "We shall be on even terms."

He turned his back on him and then, calling him back:

"Oh, one word more, baron. Engage four more servants."

"Why?"

"I have thought it over. I shall bring my whip."

At one o'clock the next day, precisely, a horseman rode through the gate of the so-called Villa Dupont, a peaceful, countrified private road, the only entrance to which is in the Rue Pergolèse, close to the Avenue du Bois.

It is lined with gardens and handsome private houses; and, right at the end, it is closed by a sort of little park containing a large old house, behind which runs the Paris circular railway. It was here, at No. 29, that Baron Altenheim lived.

Sernine flung the reins of his horse to a groom whom he had sent on ahead and said:

"Bring him back at half-past two."

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?"

"Oho! I see that you are even better posted than I thought!.. Hang it all, but you're jolly smart!.. All the more reason why we should agree." And, bending toward him, "Listen, Lupin, and ponder my words well; I have weighed them carefully, every one. Look here… We two are evenly matched… Does that make you smile? You are wrong: it may be that you possess resources which I do not; but I have others of which you know nothing. Moreover, as you are aware, I have few scruples, some skill and a capacity for changing my personality which an expert like yourself ought to appreciate. In short, the two adversaries are each as good as the other. But one question remains unanswered: why are we adversaries? We are pursuing the same object, you will say? And what then? Do you know what will come of our rivalry? Each of us will paralyze the efforts and destroy the work of the other; and we shall both miss our aim! And for whose benefit? Some Lenormand or other, a third rogue!.. It's really too silly."

"It's really too silly, as you say," Sernine admitted. "But there is a remedy."

"What is that?"

"For you to withdraw."

"Don't chaff. I am serious. The proposal which I am going to make is not one to be rejected without examination. Here it is, in two words: let's be partners!"

"I say!"

"Of course, each of us will continue free where his own affairs are concerned. But, for the business in question, let us combine our efforts. Does that suit you? Hand in hand and share alike."

"What do you bring?"

"I?"

"Yes, you know what I'm worth; I've delivered my proofs. In the alliance which you are proposing, you know the figure, so to speak of my marriage-portion. What's yours?"

"Steinweg."

"That's not much."

"It's immense. Through Steinweg, we learn the truth about Pierre Leduc. Through Steinweg, we get to know what the famous Kesselbach plan is all about."

Sernine burst out laughing:

"And you need me for that?"

"I don't understand."

"Come, old chap, your offer is childish. You have Steinweg in your hands. If you wish for my collaboration, it is because you have not succeeded in making him speak. But for that fact, you would do without my services."

"Well, what of it?"

"I refuse."

The two men stood up to each other once more, violent and implacable.

"I refuse," said Sernine. "Lupin requires nobody, in order to act. I am one of those who walk alone. If you were my equal, as you pretend, the idea of a partnership would never have entered your head. The man who has the stature of a leader commands. Union implies obedience. I do not obey."

"You refuse? You refuse?" repeated Altenheim, turning pale under the insult.

"All that I can do for you, old chap, is to offer you a place in my band. You'll be a private soldier, to begin with. Under my orders, you shall see how a general wins a battle.. and how he pockets the booty, by himself and for himself. Does that suit you.. Tommy?"

Altenheim was beside himself with fury. He gnashed his teeth:

"You are making a mistake, Lupin," he mumbled, "you are making a mistake… I don't want anybody either; and this business gives me no more difficulty than plenty of others which I have pulled off… What I said was said in order to effect our object more quickly and without inconveniencing each other."

"You're not inconveniencing me," said Lupin, scornfully.

"Look here! If we don't combine, only one of us will succeed."

"That's good enough for me."

"And he will only succeed by passing over the other's body. Are you prepared for that sort of duel, Lupin? A duel to the death, do you understand?.. The knife is a method which you despise; but suppose you received one, Lupin, right in the throat?"

"Aha! So, when all is said, that's what you propose?"

"No, I am not very fond of shedding blood… Look at my fists: I strike.. and my man falls… I have special blows of my own… But the other one kills.. remember.. the little wound in the throat… Ah, Lupin, beware of him, beware of that one!.. He is terrible, he is implacable… Nothing stops him."

He spoke these words in a low voice and with such excitement that Sernine shuddered at the hideous thought of the unknown murderer:

"Baron," he sneered, "one would think you were afraid of your accomplice!"

"I am afraid for the others, for those who bar our road, for you, Lupin. Accept, or you are lost. I shall act myself, if necessary. The goal is too near.. I have my hand on it… Get out of my way, Lupin!"

He was all energy and exasperated will. He spoke forcibly and so brutally that he seemed ready to strike his enemy then and there.

Sernine shrugged his shoulders:

"Lord, how hungry I am!" he said, yawning. "What a time to lunch at!"

The door opened.

"Lunch is served, sir," said the butler.

"Ah, that's good hearing!"

In the doorway, Altenheim caught Sernine by the arm and, disregarding the servant's presence:

"If you take my advice.. accept. This is a serious moment in your life.. and you will do better, I swear to you, you will do better.. to accept.."

"Caviare!" cried Sernine. "Now, that's too sweet of you… You remembered that you were entertaining a Russian prince!"

They sat down facing each other, with the baron's greyhound, a large animal with long, silver hair, between them.

"Let me introduce Sirius, my most faithful friend."

"A fellow-countryman," said Sernine. "I shall never forget the one which the Tsar was good enough to give me when I had the honor to save his life."

"Ah, you had that honor.. a terrorist conspiracy, no doubt?"

"Yes, a conspiracy got up by myself. You must know, this dog – its name, by the way, was Sebastopol.."

The lunch continued merrily. Altenheim had recovered his good humor and the two men vied with each other in wit and politeness. Sernine told anecdotes which the baron capped with others; and it was a succession of stories of hunting, sport and travel, in which the oldest names in Europe were constantly cropping up: Spanish grandees, English lords, Hungarian magyars, Austrian archdukes.

"Ah," said Sernine, "what a fine profession is ours! It brings us into touch with all the best people. Here, Sirius, a bit of this truffled chicken!"

The dog did not take his eyes off him, and snapped at everything that Sernine gave it.

"A glass of Chambertin, prince?"

"With pleasure, baron."

"I can recommend it. It comes from King Leopold's cellar."

"A present?"

"Yes, a present I made myself."

"It's delicious… What a bouquet!.. With this pâté de foie gras, it's simply wonderful!.. I must congratulate you, baron; you have a first-rate chef."

"My chef is a woman-cook, prince. I bribed her with untold gold to leave Levraud, the socialist deputy. I say, try this hot chocolate-ice; and let me call your special attention to the little dry cakes that go with it. They're an invention of genius, those cakes."

"The shape is charming, in any case," said Sernine, helping himself. "If they taste as good as they look… Here, Sirius, you're sure to like this. Locusta herself could not have done better."

He took one of the cakes and gave it to the dog. Sirius swallowed it at a gulp, stood motionless for two or three seconds, as though dazed, then turned in a circle and fell to the floor dead.

Sernine started back from his chair, lest one of the footmen should fall upon him unawares. Then he burst out laughing:

"Look here, baron, next time you want to poison one of your friends, try to steady your voice and to keep your hands from shaking… Otherwise, people suspect you… But I thought you disliked murder?"

"With the knife, yes," said Altenheim, quite unperturbed. "But I have always had a wish to poison some one. I wanted to see what it was like."

"By Jove, old chap, you choose your subjects well! A Russian prince!"

He walked up to Altenheim and, in a confidential tone, said:

"Do you know what would have happened if you had succeeded, that is to say, if my friends had not seen me return at three o'clock at the latest? Well, at half-past three the prefect of police would have known exactly all that there was to know about the so-called Baron Altenheim; and the said baron would have been copped before the day was out and clapped into jail."

"Pooh!" said Altenheim. "Prison one escapes from.. whereas one does not come back from the kingdom where I was sending you."

"True, but you would have to send me there first; and that's not so easy."

"I only wanted a mouthful of one of those cakes."

"Are you quite sure?"

"Try."

"One thing's certain, my lad: you haven't the stuff yet which great adventurers are made of; and I doubt if you'll ever have it, considering the sort of traps you lay for me. A man who thinks himself worthy of leading the life which you and I have the honor to lead must also be fit to lead it, and, for that, must be prepared for every eventuality: he must even be prepared not to die if some ragamuffin or other tries to poison him… An undaunted soul in an unassailable body: that is the ideal which he must set before himself.. and attain. Try away, old chap. As for me, I am undaunted and unassailable. Remember King Mithridates!"