"Well, my friend, the hermit," said Lupin, "it wasn't so very long, was it? Twenty-four hours at the most. . . . But I have worked jolly hard on your behalf! Just think, you have saved the Emperor's life! Yes, old chap. You are the man who saved the Emperor's life. I have made your fortune, that's what I've done. They'll build a cathedral for you and put up a statue to you when you're dead and gone. Here, take your things."
The hermit, nearly dead with hunger, staggered to his feet. Lupin quickly put on his own clothes and said:
"Farewell, O worthy and venerable man. Forgive me for this little upset. And pray for me. I shall need it. Eternity is opening its gate wide to me. Farewell."
He stood for a few moments on the threshold of the chapel. It was the solemn moment at which one hesitates, in spite of everything, before the terrible end of all things. But his resolution was irrevocable and, without further reflection, he darted out, ran down the slope, crossed the level ground of Tiberius's Leap and put one leg over the hand-rail:
"Lupin, I give you three minutes for play-acting. 'What's the good?' you will say. 'There is nobody here.' Well . . . and what about you? Can't you act your last farce for yourself? By Jove, the performance is worth it. . . . Arsène Lupin, heroic comedy in eighty scenes. . . . The curtain rises on the death-scene . . . and the principal part is played by Lupin in person. . . . 'Bravo, Lupin!' . . . Feel my heart, ladies and gentlemen . . . seventy beats to the minute. . . . And a smile on my lips. . . . 'Bravo, Lupin! Oh, the rogue, what cheek he has!' . . . Well, jump, my lord. . . . Are you ready? It's the last adventure, old fellow. No regrets? Regrets? What for, heavens above? My life was splendid. Ah, Dolores, Dolores, if you had not come into it, abominable monster that you were! . . . . . . And you, Malreich, why did you not speak? . . . And you, Pierre Leduc. . . . Here I am! . . . My three dead friends, I am about to join you. . . . Oh, Geneviève, my dear Geneviève! . . . Here, have you done, you old play-actor? . . . Right you are! Right you are! I'm coming. . . ."
He pulled his other leg over, looked down the abyss at the dark and motionless sea and, raising his head:
"Farewell, immortal and thrice-blessed nature! Moriturus te salutat! Farewell, all that is beautiful on earth! Farewell, splendor of things. Farewell, life!"
He flung kisses to space, to the sky, to the sun. . . . Then, folding his arms, he took the leap.
Sidi-bel-Abbes. The barracks of the Foreign Legion. An adjutant sat smoking and reading his newspaper in a small, low-ceilinged room.