"Oh, certainly! But it required the consolations of one Italian, two Americans, three Russians, a German grand-d.u.c.h.ess and a Chinawoman to do it!"

"And, after that...?"

"After that, so as to place an insuperable barrier between myself and her, I got married."

"Nonsense! You got married, you, a.r.s.ene Lupin?"

"Married, wedded, spliced, in the most lawful fashion. One of the greatest names in France. An only daughter. A colossal fortune... What!

You don't know the story? Well, it's worth hearing."

And, straightway, Lupin, who was in a confidential vein, began to tell me the story of his marriage to Angelique de Sarzeau-Vendome, Princesse de Bourbon-Conde, to-day Sister Marie-Auguste, a humble nun in the Visitation Convent... [*]

* See The Confessions of a.r.s.ene Lupin By Maurice Leblanc Translated by Alexander Teixeira de Mattos

But, after the first few words, he stopped, as though his narrative had suddenly ceased to interest him, and he remained pensive.

"What's the matter, Lupin?"

"The matter? Nothing."

"Yes, yes... There... now you're smiling... Is it Daubrecq's secret receptacle, his gla.s.s eye, that's making you laugh?"

"Not at all."

"What then?"

"Nothing, I tell you... only a memory."

"A pleasant memory?"

"Yes!... Yes, a delightful memory even. It was at night, off the Ile de Re, on the fishing-smack in which Clarisse and I were taking Gilbert away.... We were alone, the two of us, in the stern of the boat... And I remember ... I talked... I spoke words and more words... I said all that I had on my heart... And then... then came silence, a perturbing and disarming silence."

"Well?"

"Well, I swear to you that the woman whom I took in my arms that night and kissed on the lips--oh, not for long: a few seconds only, but no matter!--I swear before heaven that she was something more than a grateful mother, something more than a friend yielding to a moment of susceptibility, that she was a woman also, a woman quivering with emotion ..." And he continued, with a bitter laugh, "Who ran away next day, never to see me again."

He was silent once more. Then he whispered:

"Clarisse... Clarisse... On the day when I am tired and disappointed and weary of life, I will come to you down there, in your little Arab house ... in that little white house, Clarisse, where you are waiting for me..."