"Thank you."

A few seconds passed.

"Do you hear?" asked Sernine.

"Yes ... yes ..." said Altenheim, rising.

Blows rang against the gate. Sernine observed:

"Not even the usual summons ... no preliminaries... . Your mind is still made up?"

"More so than ever."

"You know that, with the tools they carry, they won't take long?"

"If they were inside this room I should still refuse."

The gate yielded. They heard it creak on its hinges.

"To allow one's self to get nabbed," said Sernine, "is admissible. But to hold out one's own hands to the handcuffs is too silly. Come, don't be obstinate. Speak ... and bolt!"

"And you?"

"I shall remain. What have I to be afraid of?"

"Look!"

The baron pointed to a chink between the shutters. Sernine put his eye to it and jumped back with a start:

"Oh, you scoundrel, so you have denounced me, too! It's not ten men that Weber's bringing, but fifty men, a hundred, two hundred... ."

The baron laughed open-heartedly:

"And, if there are so many of them, it's because they're after Lupin; that's obvious! Half-a-dozen would have been enough for me."

"You informed the police?"

"Yes."

"What proof did you give?"

"Your name: _Paul Sernine_, that is to say, _Arsene Lupin_."

"And you found that out all by yourself, did you? ... A thing which nobody else thought of? ... Nonsense! It was the other one. Admit it!"

He looked out through the chink. Swarms of policemen were spreading round the villa; and the blows were now sounding on the door. He must, however, think of one of two things: either his escape, or else the execution of the plan which he had contrived. But to go away, even for a moment, meant leaving Altenheim; and who could guarantee that the baron had not another outlet at his disposal to escape by? This thought paralyzed Sernine. The baron free! The baron at liberty to go back to Genevieve and torture her and make her subservient to his odious love!

Thwarted in his designs, obliged to improvise a new plan on the very second, while subordinating everything to the danger which Genevieve was running, Sernine passed through a moment of cruel indecision. With his eyes fixed on the baron's eyes, he would have liked to tear his secret from him and to go away; and he no longer even tried to convince him, so useless did all words seem to him. And, while pursuing his own thoughts, he asked himself what the baron's thoughts could be, what his weapons, what his hope of safety?

The hall-door, though strongly bolted, though sheeted with iron, was beginning to give way.

The two men stood behind that door, motionless. The sound of voices, the sense of words reached them.

"You seem very sure of yourself," said Sernine.

"I should think so!" cried the other, suddenly tripping him to the floor and running away.

Sernine sprang up at once, dived through a little door under the staircase, through which Altenheim had disappeared, and ran down the stone steps to the basement... .

A passage led to a large, low, almost pitch-dark room, where he found the baron on his knees, lifting the flap of a trap-door.

"Idiot!" shouted Sernine, flinging himself upon him. "You know that you will find my men at the end of this tunnel and that they have orders to kill you like a dog... . Unless ... unless you have an outlet that joins on to this... . Ah, there, of course, I've guessed it! ... And you imagine ..."

The fight was a desperate one. Altenheim, a real colossus, endowed with exceptional muscular force, had caught his adversary round the arms and body and was pressing him against his own chest, numbing his arms and trying to smother him.

"Of course ... of course," Sernine panted, with difficulty, "of course ... that's well thought out... . As long as I can't use my arms to break some part of you, you will have the advantage ... Only ... can you ... ?"

He gave a shudder. The trap-door, which had closed again and on the flap of which they were bearing down with all their weight, the trap-door seemed to move beneath them. He felt the efforts that were being made to raise it; and the baron must have felt them too, for he desperately tried to shift the ground of the contest so that the trap-door might open.

"It's 'the other one'!" thought Sernine, with the sort of unreasoning terror which that mysterious being caused him. "It's the other one.

... If he gets through, I'm done for."

By dint of imperceptible movements, Altenheim had succeeded in shifting his own position; and he tried to drag his adversary after him. But Sernine clung with his legs to the baron's legs and, at the same time, very gradually, tried to release one of his hands.

Above their heads great blows resounded, like the blows of a battering-ram... .

"I have five minutes," thought Sernine. "In one minute this fellow will have to ..." Then, speaking aloud, "Look out, old chap. Stand tight!"

He brought his two knees together with incredible force. The baron yelled, with a twisted thigh. Then Sernine, taking advantage of his adversary's pain, made an effort, freed his right arm and seized him by the throat:

"That's capital! ... We shall be more comfortable like this... . No, it's not worth while getting out your knife... . If you do, I'll wring your neck like a chicken's. You see, I'm polite and considerate... .

I'm not pressing too hard ... just enough to keep you from even wanting to kick about."

While speaking he took from his pocket a very thin cord and, with one hand, with extreme skill, fastened his wrists. For that matter, the baron, now at his last gasp, offered not the least resistance. With a few accurate movements, Sernine tied him up firmly:

"How well you're behaving! What a good thing! I should hardly know you.

Here, in case you were thinking of escaping, I have a roll of wire that will finish off my little work... . The wrists first... . Now the ankles... . That's it! ... By Jove, how nice you look!"

The baron had gradually come to himself again. He spluttered:

"If you give me up, Genevieve will die."

"Really? ... And how? ... Explain yourself."

"She is locked up. No one knows where she is. If I'm put away, she will die of starvation."

Sernine shuddered. He retorted:

"Yes, but you will speak."