"Then speak. For that matter, nothing that you reveal will be put down in black on white. One word more, though: I ask you for the last time, is it indispensable that the prisoner should be present at this interview?"
"Quite indispensable. You will see the reason for yourself."
He drew the chair up to the magistrate's desk, Lupin remained standing, near the clerk. And the old man, speaking in a loud voice, said:
"It is now ten years since a series of circumstances, which I need not enter into, made me acquainted with an extraordinary story in which two persons are concerned."
"Their names, please."
"I will give the names presently. For the moment, let me say that one of these persons occupies an exceptional position in France, and that the other, an Italian, or rather a Spaniard . . . yes, a Spaniard . . ."
A bound across the room, followed by two formidable blows of the fist. . . . Lupin's two arms had darted out to right and left, as though impelled by springs and his two fists, hard as cannon balls, caught the magistrate and his clerk on the jaw, just below the ear.
The magistrate and the clerk collapsed over their tables, in two lumps, without a moan.
"Well hit!" said Lupin. "That was a neat bit of work."
He went to the door and locked it softly. Then returning: