"There can be no question about that."
"Very well. But the grand-duke may have taken them away since."
"No, he did not leave Dresden until his death."
"But the grand-duke's enemies, the men who had everything to gain by recovering them and destroying them: can't they have tried to find out where the papers were?"
"They have tried."
"How do you know?"
"You can understand that I did not remain inactive and that my first care, after receiving those revelations, was to go to Veldenz and make inquiries for myself in the neighboring villages. Well, I learnt that, on two separate occasions, the castle was invaded by a dozen men, who came from Berlin furnished with credentials to the regents."
"Well?"
"Well, they found nothing, for, since that time, the castle has been found closed to the public."
"But what prevents anybody from getting in?"
"A garrison of fifty soldiers, who keep watch day and night."
"Soldiers of the grand-duchy?"
"No, soldiers drafted from the Emperor's own body-guard."
The din in the passage increased:
"Open the door!" a voice cried. "I order you to open the door!"
"I can't. Weber, old chap; the lock has stuck. If you take my advice, you had better cut the door all round the lock."
"Open the door!"
"And what about the fate of Europe, which we are discussing?"
He turned to the old man:
"So you were not able to enter the castle?"
"No."
"But you are persuaded that the papers in question are hidden there?"
"Look here, haven't I given you proofs enough? Aren't you convinced?"
"Yes, yes," muttered Lupin, "that's where they are hidden.... there's no doubt about it.... that's where they are hidden...."
He seemed to see the castle. He seemed to conjure up the mysterious hiding-place. And the vision of an inexhaustible treasure, the dream of chests filled with riches and precious stones could not have excited him more than the idea of those few scraps of paper watched over by the Kaiser's guards. What a wonderful conquest to embark upon! And how worthy of his powers! And what a proof of perspicacity and intuition he had once more given by throwing himself at a venture upon that unknown track!
Outside, the men were "working" at the lock.
Lupin asked of old Steinweg:
"What did the grand-duke die of?"
"An attack of pleurisy, which carried him off in a few days. He hardly recovered consciousness before the end; and the horrible thing appears to have been that he was seen to make violent efforts, between his fits of delirium, to collect his thoughts and utter connected words. From time to time, he called his wife, looked at her in a desperate way and vainly moved his lips."
"In a word, he spoke?" said Lupin, cutting him short, for the "working" at the lock was beginning to make him anxious.
"No, he did not speak. But, in a comparatively lucid moment, he summoned up the energy to make some marks on a piece of paper which his wife gave him."
"Well, those marks....?"
"They were illegible, for the most part."
"For the most part? But the others?" asked Lupin, greedily. "The others?"
"There were, first, three perfectly distinct figures: an 8, a 1, and a 3...."
"Yes, 813, I know.... and next?"
"And next, there were some letters.... several letters, of which all that can be made out for certain are a group of three followed, immediately after, by a group of two letters."
"'APO ON,' is that it?"
"Oh, so you know!...."
The lock was yielding; almost all the screws had been taken out. Lupin, suddenly alarmed at the thought of being interrupted, asked:
"So that this incomplete word 'APO ON' and the number 813 are the formulas which the grand-duke bequeathed to his wife and son to enable them to find the secret papers?"
"Yes."
"What became of the grand-duke's wife?"
"She died soon after her husband, of grief, one might say."
"And was the child looked after by the family?"
"What family? The grand-duke had no brothers or sisters. Moreover, he was only morganatically and secretly married. No, the child was taken away by Hermann's old man-servant, who brought him up under the name of Pierre Leduc. He was a bad type of boy, self-willed, capricious and troublesome. One day, he went off and was never seen again."
"Did he know the secret of his birth?"
"Yes; and he was shown the sheet of paper on which Hermann III. had written the letters and figures."
"And after that this revelation was made to no one but yourself?"
"That's all."
"And you confided only in Mr. Kesselbach?"
"Yes. But, out of prudence, while showing him the sheet of letters and figures and the list of which I spoke to you, I kept both those documents in my own possession. Events have proved that I was right."
Lupin was now clinging to the door with both hands:
"Weber," he roared, "you're very indiscreet! I shall report you!.... Steinweg, have you those documents?"
"Yes."
"Are they in a safe place?"
"Absolutely."
"In Paris?"
"No."
"So much the better. Don't forget that your life is in danger and that you have people after you."
"I know. The least false step and I am done for."
"Exactly. So take your precautions, throw the enemy off the scent, go and fetch your papers and await my instructions. The thing is cut and dried. In a month, at latest, we will go to Veldenz Castle together."
"Suppose I'm in prison?"
"I will take you out."
"Can you?"
"The very day after I come out myself. No, I'm wrong: the same evening.... an hour later."
"You have the means?"
"Since the last ten minutes, an infallible means. You have nothing more to say to me?"
"No."
"Then I'll open the door."
He pulled back the door, and bowing to M. Weber:
"My poor old Weber, I don't know what excuse to make...."
He did not finish his sentence. The sudden inrush of the deputy-chief and three policeman left him no time.
M. Weber was white with rage and indignation. The sight of the two men lying outstretched quite unsettled him.
"Dead!" he exclaimed.
"Not a bit of it, not a bit of it," chuckled Lupin, "only asleep! Formerie was tired out.... so I allowed him a few moments' rest."
"Enough of this humbug!" shouted M. Weber. And, turning to the policemen, "Take him back to the Santé. And keep your eyes open, damn it! As for this visitor...."
Lupin learnt nothing more as to Weber's intentions with regard to old Steinweg. A crowd of municipal guards and police constables hustled him down to the prison-van.
On the stairs Doudeville whispered:
"Weber had a line to warn him. It told him to mind the confrontation and to be on his guard with Steinweg. The note was signed 'L. M.'"
But Lupin hardly bothered his head about all this. What did he care for the murderer's hatred or old Steinweg's fate? He possessed Rudolf Kesselbach's secret!
10: Lupin's Great Scheme
CONTRARY To his expectations, Lupin had no sort of annoyance to undergo in consequence of his assault on M. Formerie.
The examining-magistrate came to the Santé in person, two days later, and told him, with some embarrassment and with an affectation of kindness, that he did not intend to pursue the matter further.
"Nor I, either," retorted Lupin.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, I mean that I shall send no communication to the press about this particular matter nor do anything that might expose you to ridicule, Monsieur le Juge d'Instruction. The scandal shall not be made public, I promise. That is what you want, is it not?"
M. Formerie blushed and, without replying, continued:
"Only, henceforth, your examinations will take place here."
"It's quite right that the law should put itself out for Lupin!" said that gentleman.
The announcement of this decision, which interrupted his almost daily meetings with the Doudevilles, did not disturb Lupin. He had taken his precautions from the first day, by giving the Doudevilles all the necessary instructions and, now that the preparations were nearly completed, reckoned upon being able to turn old Steinweg's confidences to the best account without delay and to obtain his liberty by one of the most extraordinary and ingenious schemes that had ever entered his brain.
His method of correspondence was a simple one; and he had devised it at once. Every morning he was supplied with sheets of paper in numbered packets. He made these into envelopes; and, every evening, the envelopes, duly folded and gummed, were fetched away. Now Lupin, noticing that his packet always bore the same number, had drawn the inference that the distribution of the numbered packets was always affected in the same order among the prisoners who had chosen that particular kind of work. Experience showed that he was right.
It only remained for the Doudevilles to bribe one of the employees of the private firm entrusted with the supply and dispatch of the envelopes. This was easily done; and, thenceforward, Lupin, sure of success, had only to wait quietly until the sign agreed upon between him and his friends appeared upon the top sheet of the packet.
On the sixth day, he gave an exclamation of delight:
"At last!" he said.
He took a tiny bottle from a hiding-place, uncorked it, moistened the tip of his forefinger with the liquid which it contained and passed his finger over the third sheet in the packet.
In a moment, strokes appeared, then letters, then words and sentences.
He read:
All well. Steinweg free. Hiding in country. Geneviève Ernemont good health. Often goes Hôtel Bristol to see Mrs. Kesselbach, who is ill. Meets Pierre Leduc there every time. Answer by same means. No danger.
So communications were established with the outside. Once more, Lupin's efforts were crowned with success. All that he had to do now was to execute his plan and lead the press campaign which he had prepared in the peaceful solitude of his prison.
Three days later, these few lines appeared in the Grand Journal:
"Quite apart from Prince Bismarck's Memoirs, which, according to well-informed people, contain merely the official history of the events in which the great chancellor was concerned, there exists a series of confidential letters of no little interest.
"These letters have been recently discovered. We hear, on good authority, that they will be published almost immediately."
My readers will remember the noise which these mysterious sentences made throughout the civilized world, the comments in which people indulged, the suggestions put forward and, in particular, the controversy that followed in the German press. Who had inspired those lines? What were the letters in question? Who had written them to the chancellor or who had received them from him? Was it an act of posthumous revenge? Or was it an indiscretion committed by one of Bismarck's correspondents?
A second note settled public opinion as to certain points, but, at the same time, worked it up to a strange pitch of excitement. It ran as follows:
To the Editor of the Grand Journal,
Santé Palace,
Cell 14, Second Division.
Sir,
You inserted in your issue of Tuesday last a paragraph based upon a few words which I let fall, the other evening, in the course of a lecture, which I was delivering at the Santé on foreign politics. Your correspondent's paragraph, although accurate in all essential particulars, requires a slight correction. The letters exist, as stated, and it is impossible to deny their exceptional importance, seeing that, for ten years, they have been the object of an uninterrupted search on the part of the government interested. But nobody knows where they are hidden and nobody knows a single word of what they contain.
The public, I am convinced, will bear me no ill-will if I keep it waiting for some time before satisfying its legitimate curiosity. Apart from the fact that I am not in possession of all the elements necessary for the pursuit of the truth, my present occupation does not allow me to devote so much time as I could wish to this matter.
All that I can say for the moment is that the letters were entrusted by the dying statesman to one of his most faithful friends and that this friend had eventually to suffer the serious consequences of his loyalty. Constant spying, domiciliary visits, nothing was spared him.
I have given orders to two of the best agents of my secret police to take up this scent from the start in a position to get to the bottom of this exciting mystery.
I have the honor to be Sir,
Your obedient servant,
Arsène Lupin.
So it was Arsène Lupin who was conducting the case! It was he who, from his prison cell, was stage-managing the comedy or the tragedy announced in the first note. What luck! Everybody was delighted. With an artist like Lupin, the spectacle could not fail to be both picturesque and startling.
Three days later the Grand Journal contained the following letter from Arsène Lupin:
The name of the devoted friend to whom I referred has been imparted to me. It was the Grand-Duke Hermann III., reigning (although dispossessed) sovereign of the Grand-duchy of Zweibrucken-Veldenz and a confidant of Prince Bismarck, whose entire friendship he enjoyed.
A thorough search was made of his house by Count von W——, at the head of twelve men. The result of this search was purely negative, but the grand-duke was nevertheless proved to be in possession of the papers.
Where had he hidden them? This was a problem which probably nobody in the world would be able to solve at the present moment.
I must ask for twenty-four hours in which to solve it.
Arsène Lupin.
And, twenty-four hours later, the promised note appeared:
The famous letters are hidden in the feudal castle of Veldenz, the capital of the Grand-duchy of Zweibrucken. The castle was partly destroyed in the course of the nineteenth century.
Where exactly are they hidden? And what are the letters precisely? These are the two problems which I am now engaged in unravelling; and I shall publish the solution in four days' time.
