“Yes.”
“You know who she is, and where she is?”
“Yes.”
“Good! That settles Monsieur Lupin.... Folenfant, take two men, and go with Monsieur Sholmes.”
The Englishman departed, accompanied by the three men.
The game was ended. The blonde Lady was, also, about to fall into the hands of the Englishman. Thanks to his commendable persistence and to a combination of fortuitous circumstances, the battle had resulted in a victory for the detective, and in irreparable disaster for Lupin.
“Monsieur Sholmes!”
The Englishman stopped.
“Monsieur Lupin?”
Lupin was clearly shattered by this final blow. His forehead was marked by deep wrinkles. He was sullen and dejected. However, he pulled himself together, and, notwithstanding his defeat, he exclaimed, in a cheerful tone: