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“What is it?”

“Another proof to confirm my supposition….”

“What proof? I see nothing.”

“I do…. That’s enough….”

He turned up the collar of his coat, lowered the brim of his soft hat and said:

“By Jove, it’ll be a stiff fight! Go to bed, my friend. I’ll tell you about my expedition to-morrow … if it doesn’t cost me my life.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh, I know what I’m saying! I’m risking a lot. First of all, getting arrested, which isn’t much. Next, getting killed, which is worse. But….” He gripped my shoulder. “But there’s a third thing I’m risking, which is getting hold of two millions…. And, once I possess a capital of two millions, I’ll show people what I can do! Good-night, old chap, and, if you never see me again….” He spouted Musset’s lines:

“Plant a willow by my grave, The weeping willow that I love….”

I walked away. Three minutes later—I am continuing the narrative as he told it to me next day—three minutes later, Lupin rang at the door of the Hôtel Repstein.

* * *

“Is monsieur le baron at home?”