“I understand that an exact description of Arsène Lupin has been furnished to all the police along this coast since his daring exploit on the Paris-Havre express.”
“I suppose so,” said Devanne. “That was three months ago; and a week later, I made the acquaintance of our friend Velmont at the casino, and, since then, he has honored me with several visits—an agreeable preamble to a more serious visit that he will pay me one of these days—or, rather, one of these nights.”
This speech evoked another round of laughter, and the guests then passed into the ancient “Hall of the Guards,” a vast room with a high ceiling, which occupied the entire lower part of the Tour Guillaume—William’s Tower—and wherein Georges Devanne had collected the incomparable treasures which the lords of Thibermesnil had accumulated through many centuries. It contained ancient chests, credences, andirons and chandeliers. The stone walls were overhung with magnificent tapestries. The deep embrasures of the four windows were furnished with benches, and the Gothic windows were composed of small panes of colored glass set in a leaden frame. Between the door and the window to the left stood an immense bookcase of Renaissance style, on the pediment of which, in letters of gold, was the word “Thibermesnil,” and, below it, the proud family device: “Fais ce que veulx” (Do what thou wishest). When the guests had lighted their cigars, Devanne resumed the conversation.
“And remember, Velmont, you have no time to lose; in fact, to-night is the last chance you will have.”
“How so?” asked the painter, who appeared to regard the affair as a joke. Devanne was about to reply, when his mother mentioned to him to keep silent, but the excitement of the occasion and a desire to interest his guests urged him to speak.
“Bah!” he murmured. “I can tell it now. It won’t do any harm.”
The guests drew closer, and he commenced to speak with the satisfied air of a man who has an important announcement to make.
“To-morrow afternoon at four o’clock, Sherlock Holmes, the famous English detective, for whom such a thing as mystery does not exist; Sherlock Holmes, the most remarkable solver of enigmas the world has ever known, that marvelous man who would seem to be the creation of a romantic novelist—Sherlock Holmes will be my guest!”
Immediately, Devanne was the target of numerous eager questions. “Is Sherlock Holmes really coming?” “Is it so serious as that?” “Is Arsène Lupin really in this neighborhood?”
“Arsène Lupin and his band are not far away. Besides the robbery of the Baron Cahorn, he is credited with the thefts at Montigny, Gruchet and Crasville. And now it is my turn.”