each other? Thanks to him, I could now indulge in delicious dreams of
love and happiness--dreams that, I felt, were not unwelcome to Miss Nelly. Her smiling
eyes authorized me to make them; the softness of her voice bade me hope.
As we approached the American shore, the active search for the thief was apparently
abandoned, and we were anxiously awaiting the supreme moment in which the
mysterious enigma would be explained. Who was Arsène Lupin? Under what name,
under what disguise was the famous Arsène Lupin concealing himself? And, at last, that
supreme moment arrived. If I live one hundred years, I shall not forget the slightest
details of it.
"How pale you are, Miss Nelly," I said to my companion, as she leaned upon my arm,
almost fainting.
"And you!" she replied, "ah! you are so changed."
"Just think! this is a most exciting moment, and I am delighted to spend it with you, Miss
Nelly. I hope that your memory will sometimes revert---"
But she was not listening. She was nervous and excited. The gangway was placed in
position, but, before we could use it, the uniformed customs officers came on board. Miss
Nelly murmured:
"I shouldn't be surprised to hear that Arsène Lupin escaped from the vessel during the
voyage."
"Perhaps he preferred death to dishonor, and plunged into the Atlantic rather than be
arrested."
"Oh, do not laugh," she said.
Suddenly I started, and, in answer to her question, I said:
"Do you see that little old man standing at the bottom of the gangway?"
"With an umbrella and an olive-green coat?"
"It is Ganimard."
"Ganimard?"
"Yes, the celebrated detective who has sworn to capture Arsène Lupin. Ah! I can
understand now why we did not receive any news from this side of the Atlantic.
Ganimard was here! and he always keeps his business secret."
"Then you think he will arrest Arsène Lupin?"
"Who can tell? The unexpected always happens when Arsène Lupin is concerned in the
affair."
"Oh!" she exclaimed, with that morbid curiosity peculiar to women, "I should like to see
him arrested."
"You will have to be patient. No doubt, Arsène Lupin has already seen his enemy and
will not be in a hurry to leave the steamer."
The passengers were now leaving the steamer. Leaning on his umbrella, with an air of
careless indifference, Ganimard appeared to be paying no attention to the crowd that was
hurrying down the gangway. The Marquis de Raverdan, Major Rawson, the Italian
Rivolta, and many others had already left the vessel before Rozaine appeared. Poor
Rozaine!
"Perhaps it is he, after all," said Miss Nelly to me. "What do you think?"
"I think it would be very interesting to have Ganimard and Rozaine in the same picture.
You take the camera. I am loaded down."
I gave her the camera, but too late for her to use it. Rozaine was already passing the
detective. An American officer, standing behind Ganimard, leaned forward and
whispered in his ear. The French detective shrugged his shoulders and Rozaine passed on.
Then, my God, who was Arsène Lupin?
"Yes," said Miss Nelly, aloud, "who can it be?"
Not more than twenty people now remained on board. She scrutinized them one by one,
fearful that Arsène Lupin was not amongst them.
"We cannot wait much longer," I said to her.
She started toward the gangway. I followed. But we had not taken ten steps when
Ganimard barred out passage.
"Well, what is it?" I exclaimed.
"One moment, monsieur. What's your hurry?"
"I am escorting mademoiselle."
"One moment," he repeated, in a tone of authority. Then, gazing into my eyes, he said:
"Arsène Lupin, is it not?"
I laughed, and replied: "No, simply Bernard d'Andrézy."
"Bernard d'Andrézy died in Macedonia three years ago."
"If Bernard d'Andrézy were dead, I should not be here. But you are mistaken. Here are
my papers."
"They are his; and I can tell you exactly how they cam into your possession."
"You are a fool!" I exclaimed. "Arsène Lupin sailed under the name of R---"
"Yes, another of your tricks; a false scent that deceived them at Havre. You play a good
game, my boy, but this time luck is against you."
I hesitated a moment. Then he hit me a sharp blow on the right arm, which caused me to
utter a cry of pain. He had struck the wound, yet unhealed, referred to in the telegram.
I was obliged to surrender. There was no alternative. I turned to Miss Nelly, who had
heard everything. Our eyes met; then she glanced at the Kodak I had placed in her hands,
and made a gesture that conveyed to me the impression that she understood everything.
Yes, there, between the narrow folds of black leather, in the hollow centre of
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