He took the bank-notes from his pocket, spread them on the table and divided them into two bundles of five hundred each. Then the two men sat silent. From time to time, M. Gerbois pricked up his ears: wasn't that a ring at the door-bell?... His anguish increased with every minute that passed. And Maître Detinan also experienced an impression that was almost painful.
For a moment, in fact, the advocate lost all his composure. He rose abruptly from his seat:
"We shan't see him.... How can we expect to?... It would be madness on his part! He trusts us, no doubt: we are honest men, incapable of betraying him. But the danger lies elsewhere."
And M. Gerbois, shattered, with his hands on the notes, stammered:
"If he would only come, oh, if he would only come! I would give all this to have Suzanne back."
The door opened.
Some one was standing on the threshold—a young man, fashionably dressed—and M. Gerbois at once recognized the person who had accosted him outside the curiosity-shop. He leapt toward him:
"And Suzanne? Where is my daughter?"
Arsène Lupin closed the door carefully and, quietly unbuttoning his gloves, said to the lawyer: