Part 43 (1/2)

”Go down the stairs at once. Wait for me by the porter's lodge. Do you understand?”

He shut the door. But it was hardly closed when shouts arose. The lift had shot up, like a balloon with its rope cut. A sardonic laugh rang out.

”d.a.m.nation!” roared Ganimard, feeling frantically in the dark for the lever. And failing to find it, he shouted, ”The fifth floor! Watch the door on the fifth floor!”

The detectives rushed upstairs, four steps at a time. But a strange thing happened: the lift seemed to shoot right through the ceiling of the top floor, disappeared before the detectives' eyes and suddenly emerged on the upper story, where the servants' bedrooms were, and stopped.

Three men were in waiting and opened the door. Two of them overpowered Ganimard, who, hampered in his movements and completely bewildered, hardly thought of defending himself. The third helped Lupin out.

”I told you, Ganimard!... Carried off by balloon ... and thanks to you!... Next time, you must show less compa.s.sion. And, above all, remember that a.r.s.ene Lupin does not allow himself to be bashed and mauled about without good reasons. Good-bye....”

The lift-door was already closed and the lift, with Ganimard inside, sent back on its journey toward the ground floor. And all this was done so expeditiously that the old detective caught up his subordinates at the door of the porter's lodge.

Without a word, they hurried across the courtyard and up the servants'

staircase, the only means of communication with the floor by which the escape had been effected.

A long pa.s.sage, with many windings, lined with small, numbered rooms, led to a door, which had been simply left ajar. Beyond this door and, consequently, in another house, was another pa.s.sage, also with a number of turns and lined with similar rooms. Right at the end was a servants'

staircase. Ganimard went down it, crossed a yard, a hall and rushed into a street: the Rue Picot. Then he understood: the two houses were built back to back and their fronts faced two streets, running not at right angles, but parallel, with a distance of over sixty yards between them.

He entered the porter's lodge and showed his card:

”Have four men just gone out?”

”Yes, the two servants of the fourth and fifth floors, with two friends.”

”Who lives on the fourth and fifth floors?”

”Two gentlemen of the name of Fauvel and their cousins, the Provosts....

They moved this morning. Only the two servants remained.... They have just gone.”

”Ah,” thought Ganimard, sinking on to a sofa in the lodge, ”what a fine stroke we have missed! The whole gang occupied this rabbit-warren!...”

Forty minutes later, two gentlemen drove up in a cab to the Gare du Nord and hurried toward the Calais express, followed by a porter carrying their bags.

One of them had his arm in a sling and his face was pale and drawn. The other seemed in great spirits:

”Come along, Wilson; it won't do to miss the train!... Oh, Wilson, I shall never forget these ten days!”

”No more shall I.”

”What a fine series of battles!”

”Magnificent!”

”A regrettable incident, here and there, but of very slight importance.”

”Very slight, as you say.”