Arsene Lupin versus Herlock Sholmes - LightNovelsOnl.com
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"Wilson, I was thinking of your card."
"Well!"
"The point is this: here is a man who, in view of a possible struggle with us, procures specimens of our handwriting, and who holds, in his possession, one or more of your cards. Now, have you considered how much precaution and skill those facts represent?"
"Well!"
"Well, Wilson, to overcome an enemy so well prepared and so thoroughly equipped requires the infinite shrewdness of ... of a Herlock Sholmes.
And yet, as you have seen, Wilson, I have lost the first round."
At six o 'clock the _Echo de France_ published the following article in its evening edition:
"This morning Mon. Thenard, commissary of police in the sixteenth district, released Herlock Sholmes and his friend Wilson, both of whom had been locked in the house of the late Baron d'Hautrec, where they spent a very pleasant night--thanks to the thoughtful care and attention of a.r.s.ene Lupin."
"In addition to their other troubles, these gentlemen have been robbed of their valises, and, in consequence thereof, they have entered a formal complaint against a.r.s.ene Lupin."
"a.r.s.ene Lupin, satisfied that he has given them a mild reproof, hopes these gentlemen will not force him to resort to more stringent measures."
"Bah!" exclaimed Herlock Sholmes, crus.h.i.+ng the paper in his hands, "that is only child's play! And that is the only criticism I have to make of a.r.s.ene Lupin: he plays to the gallery. There is that much of the fakir in him."
"Ah! Sholmes, you are a wonderful man! You have such a command over your temper. Nothing ever disturbs you."
"No, nothing disturbs me," replied Sholmes, in a voice that trembled from rage; "besides, what's the use of losing my temper?... I am quite confident of the final result; I shall have the last word."
CHAPTER IV.
LIGHT IN THE DARKNESS.
However well-tempered a man's character may be--and Herlock Sholmes is one of those men over whom ill-fortune has little or no hold--there are circ.u.mstances wherein the most courageous combatant feels the necessity of marshaling his forces before risking the chances of a battle.
"I shall take a vacation to-day," said Sholmes.
"And what shall I do?" asked Wilson.
"You, Wilson--let me see! You can buy some underwear and linen to replenish our wardrobe, while I take a rest."
"Very well, Sholmes, I will watch while you sleep."
Wilson uttered these words with all the importance of a sentinel on guard at the outpost, and therefore exposed to the greatest danger. His chest was expanded; his muscles were tense. a.s.suming a shrewd look, he scrutinized, officially, the little room in which they had fixed their abode.
"Very well, Wilson, you can watch. I shall occupy myself in the preparation of a line of attack more appropriate to the methods of the enemy we are called upon to meet. Do you see, Wilson, we have been deceived in this fellow Lupin. My opinion is that we must commence at the very beginning of this affair."
"And even before that, if possible. But have we sufficient time?"
"Nine days, dear boy. That is five too many."
The Englishman spent the entire afternoon in smoking and sleeping. He did not enter upon his new plan of attack until the following day. Then he said:
"Wilson, I am ready. Let us attack the enemy."
"Lead on, Macduff!" exclaimed Wilson, full of martial ardor. "I wish to fight in the front rank. Oh! have no fear. I shall do credit to my King and country, for I am an Englishman."
In the first place, Sholmes had three long and important interviews: With Monsieur Detinan, whose rooms he examined with the greatest care and precision; with Suzanne Gerbois, whom he questioned in regard to the blonde Lady; and with Sister Auguste, who had retired to the convent of the Visitandines since the murder of Baron d'Hautrec.
At each of these interviews Wilson had remained outside; and each time he asked:
"Satisfactory?"
"Quite so."
"I was sure we were on the right track."
They paid a visit to the two houses adjoining that of the late Baron d'Hautrec in the avenue Henri-Martin; then they visited the rue Clapeyron, and, while he was examining the front of number 25, Sholmes said:
"All these houses must be connected by secret pa.s.sages, but I can't find them."
For the first time in his life, Wilson doubted the omnipotence of his famous a.s.sociate. Why did he now talk so much and accomplish so little?
"Why?" exclaimed Sholmes, in answer to Wilson's secret thought, "because, with this fellow Lupin, a person has to work in the dark, and, instead of deducting the truth from established facts, a man must extract it from his own brain, and afterward learn if it is supported by the facts in the case."
"But what about the secret pa.s.sages?"
"They must exist. But even though I should discover them, and thus learn how a.r.s.ene Lupin made his entrance to the lawyer's house and how the blonde Lady escaped from the house of Baron d'Hautrec after the murder, what good would it do? How would it help me? Would it furnish me with a weapon of attack?"
"Let us attack him just the same," exclaimed Wilson, who had scarcely uttered these words when he jumped back with a cry of alarm. Something had fallen at their feet; it was a bag filled with sand which might have caused them serious injury if it had struck them.
Sholmes looked up. Some men were working on a scaffolding attached to the balcony at the fifth floor of the house. He said:
"We were lucky; one step more, and that heavy bag would have fallen on our heads. I wonder if--"
Moved by a sudden impulse, he rushed into the house, up the five flights of stairs, rang the bell, pushed his way into the apartment to the great surprise and alarm of the servant who came to the door, and made his way to the balcony in front of the house. But there was no one there.
"Where are the workmen who were here a moment ago?" he asked the servant.
"They have just gone."
"Which way did they go?"
"By the servants' stairs."
Sholmes leaned out of the window. He saw two men leaving the house, carrying bicycles. They mounted them and quickly disappeared around the corner.