Sholmes was excited, delighted, and gayer than usual.
“And when I think that these rascals might have attacked me in the street and broken my arm just as they did yours! Isn’t that so, Wilson?”
Wilson simply shivered at the horrible thought. Sholmes continued:
“We must profit by the lesson. I can see, Wilson, that we were wrong to try and fight Lupin in the open, and leave ourselves exposed to his attacks.”
“I can see it, and feel it, too, in my broken arm,” said Wilson.
“You have one consolation, Wilson; that is, that I escaped. Now, I must be doubly cautious. In an open fight he will defeat me; but if I can work in the dark, unseen by him, I have the advantage, no matter how strong his forces may be.”
“Ganimard might be of some assistance.”
“Never! On the day that I can truly say: Arsène Lupin is there; I show you the quarry, and how to catch it; I shall go and see Ganimard at one of the two addresses that he gave me—his residence in the rue Pergolese, or at the Suisse tavern in the Place du Châtelet. But, until that time, I shall work alone.”
He approached the bed, placed his hand on Wilson’s shoulder—on the sore one, of course—and said to him:
“Take care of yourself, old fellow. Henceforth your rôle will be to keep two or three of Arsène Lupin’s men busy watching here in vain for my return to enquire about your health. It is a secret mission for you, eh?”