The Blonde Lady Part 55

"By Jupiter!" said Ganimard. "The cheek of the fellow!"

The man, in fact, had walked up to the two policemen just as these were preparing to mount their bicycles. He spoke a few words to them and then, suddenly, sprang upon a third bicycle, which was leaning against the wall of the cafe, and rode away quickly with the two policemen.

The Englishman burst with laughter:

"There, what did I tell you? Off before we knew where we were; and with two of your colleagues, M. Ganimard! Ah, he looks after himself, does a.r.s.ene Lupin! With cyclist policemen in his pay! Didn't I tell you our friend was a great deal too calm!"

"What then?" cried Ganimard, angrily. "What could I do? It's very easy to laugh!"

"Come, come, don't be cross. We'll have our revenge. For the moment, what we want is reinforcements."

"Folenfant is waiting for me at the end of the Avenue de Neuilly."

"All right, pick him up and join me, both of you."

Ganimard went away, while Shears followed the tracks of the bicycles, which were easily visible on the dust of the road because two of the machines were fitted with grooved tires. And he soon saw that these tracks were leading him to the bank of the Seine and that the three men had turned in the same direction as Bresson on the previous evening. He thus came to the gate against which he himself had hidden with Ganimard and, a little farther on, he saw a tangle of grooved lines which showed that they had stopped there. Just opposite, a little neck of land jutted into the river and, at the end of it, an old boat lay fastened.

This was where Bresson must have flung his parcel, or, rather, dropped it. Shears went down the incline and saw that, as the bank sloped very gently, and the water was low, he would easily find the parcel ...

unless the three men had been there first.

"No, no," he said to himself, "they have not had time ... a quarter of an hour at most..... And, yet, why did they come this way?"

A man was sitting in the boat, fishing. Shears asked him:

"Have you seen three men on bicycles?"

The angler shook his head.

The Englishman insisted:

"Yes, yes.... Three men.... They stopped only a few yards from where you are."

The angler put his rod under his arm, took a note-book from his pocket, wrote something on one of the pages, tore it out and handed it to Shears.

A great thrill shook the Englishman. At a glance, in the middle of the page which he held in his hand, he recognized the letters torn from the picture-book:

C D E H N O P R Z E O--237

The sun hung heavily over the river. The angler had resumed his work, sheltered under the huge brim of his straw hat; his jacket and waistcoat lay folded by his side. He fished attentively, while the float of his line rocked idly on the current.

Quite a minute elapsed, a minute of solemn and awful silence.

"Is it he?" thought Shears, with an almost painful anxiety.

And then the truth burst upon him:

"It is he! It is he! He alone is capable of sitting like that, without a tremor of uneasiness, without the least fear as to what will happen....

And who else could know the story of the picture-book? Alice must have told him by her messenger."

Suddenly, the Englishman felt that his hand, that his own hand, had seized the b.u.t.t-end of his revolver and that his eyes were fixed on the man's back, just below the neck. One movement and the whole play was finished; a touch of the trigger and the life of the strange adventurer had come to a miserable end.

The angler did not stir.

Shears nervously gripped his weapon with a fierce longing to fire and have done with it and, at the same time, with horror of a deed against which his nature revolted. Death was certain. It would be over.

"Oh," he thought, "let him get up, let him defend himself.... If not, he will have only himself to blame.... Another second ... and I fire."

But a sound of footsteps made him turn his head and he saw Ganimard arrive, accompanied by the inspectors.

Then, changing his idea, he leapt forward, sprang at one bound into the boat, breaking the painter with the force of the jump, fell upon the man and held him in a close embrace. They both rolled to the bottom of the boat.

"Well?" cried Lupin, struggling. "And then? What does this prove?

Suppose one of us reduces the other to impotence: what will he have gained? You will not know what to do with me nor I with you. We shall stay here like a couple of fools!"

The two oars slipped into the water. The boat began to drift. Mingled exclamations resounded along the bank and Lupin continued:

"Lord, what a business! Have you lost all sense of things?... Fancy being so silly at your age! You great schoolboy! You ought to be ashamed!"

He succeeded in releasing himself.

Exasperated, resolved to stick at nothing, Shears put his hand in his pocket. An oath escaped him. Lupin had taken his revolver.

Then he threw himself on his knees and tried to catch hold of one of the oars, in order to pull to the sh.o.r.e, while Lupin made desperate efforts after the other, in order to pull out to mid-stream.

"Got it!... Missed it!" said Lupin. "However, it makes no difference....

If you get your oar, I'll prevent your using it.... And you'll do as much for me.... But there, in life, we strive to act ... without the least reason, for it's always fate that decides.... There, you see, fate ... well, she's deciding for her old friend Lupin!... Victory! The current's favouring me!"

The boat, in fact, was drifting away.

"Look out!" cried Lupin.

Some one, on the bank, pointed a revolver. Lupin ducked his head; a shot rang out; a little water spurted up around them. He burst out laughing:

"Heaven help us, it's friend Ganimard!... Now that's very wrong of you, Ganimard. You have no right to fire except in self-defence.... Does poor a.r.s.ene make you so furious that you forget your duties?... Hullo, he's starting again!... But, wretched man, be careful: you'll hit my dear maitre here!"

He made a bulwark of his body for Shears and, standing up in the boat, facing Ganimard:

"There, now I don't mind!... Aim here, Ganimard, straight at my heart!... Higher ... to the left.... Missed again ... you clumsy beggar!... Another shot?... But you're trembling, Ganimard!... At the word of command, eh? And steady now ... one, two, three, fire!...

Missed! Dash it all, does the Government give you toys for pistols?"

He produced a long, ma.s.sive, flat revolver and fired without taking aim.

The inspector lifted his hand to his hat: a bullet had made a hole through it.

"What do you say to that, Ganimard? Ah, this is a better make! Hats off, gentlemen: this is the revolver of my n.o.ble friend, Maitre Holmlock Shears!"