While speaking, Daubrecq led Jacob to the door. He closed it after him, turned the key, pushed the bolt and, going up to Clarisse, said:
“And now, darling, listen to me.”
This time, she uttered no protest. What could she do against such an enemy, so powerful, so resourceful, who provided for everything, down to the minutest details, and who toyed with his adversaries in such an airy fashion? Even if she had hoped till then for Lupin’s interference, how could she do so now, when he was wandering through Italy in pursuit of a shadow?
She understood at last why three telegrams which she had sent to the Hôtel Franklin had remained unanswered. Daubrecq was there, lurking in the dark, watching, establishing a void around her, separating her from her comrades in the fight, bringing her gradually, a beaten prisoner, within the four walls of that room.
She felt her weakness. She was at the monster’s mercy. She must be silent and resigned.
He repeated, with an evil delight:
“Listen to me, darling. Listen to the irrevocable words which I am about to speak. Listen to them well. It is now 12 o’clock. The last train starts at 2.48: you understand, the last train that can bring me to Paris to-morrow, Monday, in time to save your son. The evening-trains would arrive too late. The trains-de-luxe are full up. Therefore I shall have to start at 2.48. Am I to start?”
“Yes.”
“Our berths are booked. Will you come with me?”
“Yes.”