“What fantasy!” I exclaimed. “And you wish me to believe that you have no particular motive for your adoption of that exciting life?”
“Come,” he said, with a smile, “you are a clever psychologist. Work it out for yourself.”
He poured himself a glass of water, drank it, and said:
“Did you read ‘Le Temps’ to-day?”
“No.”
“Herlock Sholmes crossed the Channel this afternoon, and arrived in Paris about six o’clock.”
“The deuce! What is he coming for?”
“A little journey he has undertaken at the request of the Count and Countess of Crozon, Monsieur Gerbois, and the nephew of Baron d’Hautrec. They met him at the Northern Railway station, took him to meet Ganimard, and, at this moment, the six of them are holding a consultation.”
Despite a strong temptation to do so, I had never ventured to question Arsène Lupin concerning any action of his private life, unless he had first mentioned the subject to me. Up to that moment his name had not been mentioned, at least officially, in connection with the blue diamond. Consequently, I consumed my curiosity in patience. He continued:
“There is also in ‘Le Temps’ an interview with my old friend Ganimard, according to whom a certain blonde lady, who should be my friend, must have murdered the Baron d’Hautrec and tried to rob Madame de Crozon of her famous ring. And—what do you think?—he accuses me of being the instigator of those crimes.”