“Well, on my soul!” chuckled Don Luis. “There’s a character for you! In the twinkling of an eye, he accepts three hundred millions in gold, signs an epoch-making treaty and orders the arrest of Arsène Lupin!”
“What do you mean?” cried Patrice, startled out of his life. “Your arrest?”
“Well, he orders me to appear before him, to produce my papers and the devil knows what.”
“But that’s monstrous!”
“It’s the law of the land, my dear captain. We must bow to it.”
“But . . .”
“Captain, believe me when I say that a few little worries of this sort deprive me of none of the whole-hearted satisfaction which I feel at rendering this great service to my country. I wanted, during the war, to do something for France and to make the most of the time which I was able to devote to her during my stay. I’ve done it. And then I have another reward: the four millions. For I think highly enough of your Coralie to believe her incapable of wishing to touch this money . . . which is really her property.”
“I’ll go bail for her over that.”
“Thank you. And you may be sure that the gift will be well employed. So everything is settled. I have still a few minutes to give you. Let us turn them to good account. M. Masseron is collecting his men by now. To simplify their task and avoid a scandal, we’ll go down to the lower quay, by the sand-heap. It’ll be easier for him to collar me there.”
“I accept your few minutes,” said Patrice, as they went down the steps. “But first of all I want to apologize . . .”