The Hollow Needle, Maurice Leblanc [fiction novels to read .TXT] 📗

enough to send me ad patres.⁠—Well, so you’re putting it in your pocket? Quite right. I prefer that to what you did up there.⁠—A nasty little impulse, that, of yours!⁠—Still, you’re young, you suddenly see⁠—in a flash!⁠—that you’ve once more been done by that confounded Lupin and that he is standing there in front of you, at three steps from you⁠—and bang! You fire!⁠—I’m not angry with you, bless your little heart! To prove it, I offer you a seat in my 100 hp car. Will that suit you?”

He put his fingers to his mouth and whistled.

The contrast was delicious between the venerable appearance of this elderly Massiban and the schoolboy ways and accent which Lupin was putting on. Beautrelet could not help laughing.

“He’s laughed! He’s laughed!” cried Lupin, jumping for joy. “You see, baby, what you fall short in is the power of smiling; you’re a trifle serious for your age. You’re a very likeable boy, you have a charming candor and simplicity⁠—but you have no sense of humor.” He placed himself in front of him. “Look here, bet you I make you cry! Do you know how I was able to follow up all your inquiry, how I knew of the letter Massiban wrote you and his appointment to meet you this morning at the Château de Vélines? Through the prattle of your friend, the one you’re staying with. You confide in that idiot and he loses no time, but goes and tells everything to his best girl. And his best girl has no secrets for Lupin.⁠—What did I tell you? I’ve made you feel, anyhow; your eyes are quite wet!⁠—Friendship betrayed: that upsets you, eh? Upon my word, you’re wonderful! I could take you in my arms and hug you! You always wear that look of astonishment which goes straight to my heart.⁠—I shall never forget the other evening at Gaillon, when you consulted me.⁠—Yes, I was the old notary!⁠—But why don’t you laugh, youngster? As I said, you have no sense of a joke. Look here, what you want is⁠—what shall I call it?⁠—imagination, imaginative impulse. Now, I’m full of imaginative impulse.”

A motor was heard panting not far off. Lupin seized Beautrelet roughly by the arm and in a cold voice, looking him straight in the eyes:

“You’re going to keep quiet now, aren’t you? You can see there’s nothing to be done. Then what’s the use of wasting your time and energy? There are plenty of highway robbers in the world. Run after them and let me be⁠—if not!⁠—It’s settled, isn’t it?”

He shook him as though to enforce his will upon him. Then he grinned:

“Fool that I am! You leave me alone? You’re not one of those who let go! Oh, I don’t know what restrains me! In half a dozen turns of the wrist, I could have you bound and gagged⁠—and, in two hours, safe under lock and key, for some months to come. And then I could twist my thumbs in all security, withdraw to the peaceful retreat prepared for me by my ancestors, the Kings of France, and enjoy the treasures which they have been good enough to accumulate for me. But no, it is doomed that I must go on blundering to the end. I can’t help it, we all have our weaknesses⁠—and I have one for you. Besides, it’s not done yet. From now until you put your finger into the hollow of the Needle, a good deal of water will flow under the bridges. Dash it all, it took me ten days! Me! Lupin! You will want ten years, at least! There’s that much distance between us, after all!”

The motor arrived, an immense closed car. Lupin opened the door and Beautrelet gave a cry. There was a man inside and that man was Lupin, or rather Massiban. Suddenly understanding, he burst out laughing. Lupin said:

“Don’t be afraid, he’s sound asleep. I promised that you should see him. Do you grasp the situation now? At midnight, I knew of your appointment at the castle. At seven in the morning, I was there. When Massiban passed, I had only to collect him⁠—give him a tiny prick with a needle⁠—and the thing⁠—was done. Sleep old chap, sleep away. We’ll set you down on the slope. That’s it⁠—there⁠—capital⁠—right in the sun, then you won’t catch cold⁠—good! And our hat in our hand.⁠—Spare a copper, kind gentleman!⁠—Oh, my dear old Massiban, so you were after Arsène Lupin!”

It was really a huge joke to see the two Massibans face to face, one asleep with his head on his chest, the other seriously occupied in paying him every sort of attention and respect:

“Pity a poor blind man! There, Massiban, here’s two sous and my visiting-card. And now, my lads, off we go at the fourth speed. Do you hear, driver? You’ve got to do seventy-five miles an hour. Jump in, Isidore. There’s a full sitting of the Institute today, and Massiban is to read a little paper, on I don’t know what, at half-past three. Well, he’ll read them his little paper. I’ll dish them up a complete Massiban, more real than the real one, with my own ideas, on the lacustrine inscriptions. I don’t have an opportunity of lecturing at the Institute ever day!⁠—Faster, chauffeur: we’re only doing seventy-one and a half!⁠—Are you afraid? Remember you’re with Lupin!⁠—Ah, Isidore, and then people say that life is monotonous! Why, life’s an adorable thing, my boy; only one has to know⁠—and I know⁠—. Wasn’t it enough to make a man jump out of his skin for joy, just now, at the castle, when you were chattering with old Vélines and I, up against the window, was tearing out the pages of the historic book? And then, when you were questioning the Dame de Villemon about the Hollow Needle! Would she speak? Yes, she would⁠—no, she wouldn’t⁠—yes⁠—no. It gave me gooseflesh, I assure you.⁠—If she spoke, I should have to build up my life anew, the