He tore the check into four pieces and, while Wilson, whose arm had not yet regained its former strength, uttered bitter words against Paris and the Parisians, Sholmes opened the second envelope. Immediately, he made a gesture of annoyance, and a wrinkle appeared on his forehead during the reading of the letter; then, crushing the paper into a ball, he threw it, angrily, on the floor.
“Well? What’s the matter?” asked Wilson, anxiously.
He picked up the ball of paper, unfolded it, and read, with increasing amazement:
“My Dear Monsieur:
“You know full well the admiration I have for you and the interest I take in your renown. Well, believe me, when I warn you to have nothing whatever to do with the case on which you have just now been called to Paris. Your intervention will cause much harm; your efforts will produce a most lamentable result; and you will be obliged to make a public confession of your defeat.
“Having a sincere desire to spare you such humiliation, I implore you, in the name of the friendship that unites us, to remain peacefully reposing at your own fireside.
“My best wishes to Monsieur Wilson, and, for yourself, the sincere regards of your devoted
ARSÈNE LUPIN.”
“Arsène Lupin!” repeated Wilson, astounded.
Sholmes struck the table with his fist, and exclaimed:
“Ah! he is pestering me already, the fool! He laughs at me as if I were a schoolboy! The public confession of my defeat! Didn’t I force him to disgorge the blue diamond?”
“I tell you—he’s afraid,” suggested Wilson.
“Nonsense! Arsène Lupin is not afraid, and this taunting letter proves it.”