“I wish to ask you to be in readiness, as I may call on you at any hour on Tuesday or Wednesday night.”
“For an expedition of the same kind as we had to-night?”
“Yes, monsieur, the very same.”
“With what result?”
“The capture of Arsène Lupin,” replied Sholmes.
“Do you think so?”
“I swear it, on my honor, monsieur.”
Sholmes bade Ganimard good-bye and went to the nearest hotel for a few hours’ sleep; after which, refreshed and with renewed confidence in himself, he returned to the rue Chalgrin, slipped two louis into the hand of the concierge, assured himself that the brothers Leroux had gone out, learned that the house belonged to a Monsieur Harmingeat, and, provided with a candle, descended to the cellar through the low door near which he had found the garnet. At the bottom of the stairs he found another exactly like it.
“I am not mistaken,” he thought; “this is the means of communication. Let me see if my skeleton-key will open the cellar reserved for the tenant of the ground floor. Yes; it will. Now, I will examine those cases of wine... oh! oh! here are some places where the dust has been cleared away ... and some footprints on the ground....”
A slight noise caused him to listen attentively. Quickly he pushed the door shut, blew out his candle and hid behind a pile of empty wine cases. After a few seconds he noticed that a portion of the wall swung on a pivot, the light of a lantern was thrown into the cellar, an arm appeared, then a man entered.