“No; you’re frightened,” said the Duke calmly.
“Frightened!” cried Guerchard, with a savage laugh.
“Yes, you’re frightened,” said the Duke. “And don’t think, policeman, that because I’m familiar with you, I throw off a mask. I don’t wear one. I’ve none to throw off. I AM the Duke of Charmerace.”
“You lie! You escaped from the Santé four years ago. You are Lupin! I recognize you now.”
“Prove it,” said the Duke scornfully.
“I will!” cried Guerchard.
“You won’t. I AM the Duke of Charmerace.”
Guerchard laughed wildly.
“Don’t laugh. You know nothing—nothing, dear boy,” said the Duke tauntingly.
“Dear boy?” cried Guerchard triumphantly, as if the word had been a confession.