The day did not seem long to Lupin.Knowledge was at hand.Not only would he discover the manner in which his adversaries employed those little openings, which were apparently unemployable, since they did not allow a person to reach the upper bolts, but he would learn who the ingenious and energetic adversaries were with whom he repeatediy and inevitably found himself confronted.
One incident annoyed him.In the evening Daubrecq, who had complained of feeling tired at dinner, came home at ten o'clock and, contrary to his usual custom, pushed the bolts of the hall-door.In that case, how would the others be able to carry out their plan and go to Daubrecq's room? Lupin waited for an hour after Daubrecq put out his light.Then he went down to the deputy's study, opened one of the windows ajar and returned to the third floor and fixed his rope-ladder so that, in case of need, he could reach the study without passing though the house.
Lastly, he resumed his post on the second-floor landing.
He did not have to wait long.An hour earlier than on the previous night some one tried to open the hall-door.When the attempt failed, a few minutes of absolute silence followed.And Lupin was beginning to think that the men had abandoned the idea, when he gave a sudden start.Some one had passed, without the least sound to interrupt the silence.He would not have known it, so utterly were the thing's steps deadened by the stair-carpet, if the baluster-rail, which he himself held in his hand, had not shaken slightly.Some one was coming upstairs.
And, as the ascent continued, Lupin became aware of the uncanny feeling that he heard nothing more than before.He knew, because of the rail, that a thing was coming and he could count the number of steps climbed by noting each vibration of the rail; but no other indication gave him that dim sensation of presence which we feel in distinguishing movements which we do not see, in perceiving sounds which we do not hear.And yet a blacker darkness ought to have taken shape within the darkness and something ought, at least, to modify the quality of the silence.No, he might well have believed that there was no one there.
And Lupin, in spite of himself and against the evidence of his reason, ended by believing it, for the rail no longer moved and he thought that he might have been the sport of an illusion.
And this lasted a long time.He hesitated, not knowing what to do, not knowing what to suppose.But an odd circumstance impressed him.A clock struck two.He recognized the chime of Daubrecq's clock.And the chime was that of a clock from which one is not separated by the obstacle of a door.
Lupin slipped down the stairs and went to the door.It was closed, but there was a space on the left, at the bottom, a space left by the removal of the little panel.
He listened.Daubrecq, at that moment, turned in his bed; and his breathing was resumed, evenly and a little stertorously.And Lupin plainly heard the sound of rumpling garments.Beyond a doubt, the thing was there, fumbling and feeling through the clothes which Daubrecq had laid beside his bed.
"Now," thought Lupin, "we shall learn something.But how the deuce did the beggar get in? Has he managed to draw the bolts and open the door?
But, if so, why did he make the mistake of shutting it again?"Not for a second - a curious anomaly in a man like Lupin, an anomaly to be explained only by the uncanny feeling which the whole adventure produced in him - not for a second did he suspect the very simple truth which was about to be revealed to him.Continuing his way down, he crouched on one of the bottom steps of the staircase, thus placing himself between the door of the bedroom and the hall-door, on the road which Daubrecq's enemy must inevitably take in order to join his accomplices.
He questioned the darkness with an unspeakable anguish.He was on the point of unmasking that enemy of Daubrecq's, who was also his own adversary.He would thwart his plans.And the booty captured from Daubrecq he would capture in his turn, while Daubrecq slept and while the accomplices lurking behind the hall-door or outside the garden-gate vainly awaited their leader's return.
And that return took place.Lupin knew it by the renewed vibration of the balusters.And, once more, with every sense strained and every nerve on edge, he strove to discern the mysterious thing that was coming toward him.He suddenly realized it when only a few yards away.He himself, hidden in a still darker recess, could not be seen.And what he saw - in the very vaguest manner - was approaching stair by stair, with infinite precautions, holding on to each separate baluster.
"Whom the devil have I to do with?" said Lupin to himself, while his heart thumped inside his chest.
The catastrophe was hastened.A careless movement on Lupin's part was observed by the stranger, who stopped short.Lupin was afraid lest the other should turn back and take to flight.He sprang at the adversary and was stupefied at encountering nothing but space and knocking against the stair-rail without seizing the form which he saw.But he at once rushed forward, crossed the best part of the hall and caught up his antagonist just as he was reaching the door opening on the garden.
There was a cry of fright, answered by other cries on the further side of the door.
"Oh, hang it, what's this?" muttered Lupin, whose arms had closed, in the dark, round a little, tiny, trembling, whimpering thing.
Suddenly understanding, he stood for a moment motionless and dismayed, at a loss what to do with his conquered prey.But the others were shouting and stamping outside the door.Thereupon, dreading lest Daubrecq should wake up, he slipped the little thing under his jacket, against his chest, stopped the crying with his handkerchief rolled into a ball and hurried up the three flights of stairs.
