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seen Mlle. de Gerbois: she has most positively recognized the colour of the hair of the blonde lady ... the same colour as yours, for that matter ... exactly the same colour."
Mme. de Ral watched him with a stupid expression, as though she really did not grasp the sense of his words. He continued:
"And now here are two bottles of scent. They are empty, it is true, and have no labels; but enough of the scent still clings to them to have enabled Mlle. Gerbois, this very morning, to recognize the perfume of the blonde lady who accompanied her on her fortnight's excursion. Now, one of these bottles comes from the room which Mme. de Ral occupied at the Chteau de Crozon and the other from the room which you occupied at the Htel Beaurivage."
"What are you talking about?... The blonde lady ... the Chteau de Crozon...."
The inspector, without replying, spread four sheets of paper on the table.
"Lastly," he said, "here, on these four sheets, we have a specimen of the handwriting of Antoinette Brhat, another of the lady who sent a note to Baron Herschmann during the sale of the blue diamond, another of Mme. de Ral, at the time of her stay at Crozon, and the fourth ... your own, madame ... your name and address given by yourself to the hall-porter of the Htel Beaurivage at Trouville. Now, please compare these four handwritings. They are one and the same."
"But you are mad, sir, you are mad! What does all this mean?"
"It means, madame," cried Ganimard, with a great outburst, "that the blonde lady, the friend and accomplice of Arsne Lupin, is none other than yourself."
He pushed open the door of the next room, rushed at M. Gerbois, shoved him along by the shoulders and, planting him in front of Mme. Ral:
"M. Gerbois, do you recognize the person who took away your daughter and whom you saw at Matre Detinan's?"
"No."
There was a commotion of which every one felt the shock. Ganimard staggered back:
"No?... Is it possible?... Come, just think...."
"I have thought.... Madame is fair, like the blonde lady ... and pale, like her ... but she doesn't resemble her in the least."
"I can't believe it ... a mistake like that is inconceivable.... M. d'Hautrec, do you recognize Antoinette Brhat?"
"I have seen Antoinette Brhat at my uncle's ... this is not she."
"And madame is not Mme. de Ral, either," declared the Comte de Crozon.
This was the finishing stroke. It stunned Ganimard, who stood motionless, with hanging head and shifting eyes. Of all his contrivances, nothing remained. The whole edifice was tumbling about his shoulders.
M. Dudouis rose:
"I must beg you to forgive us, madame. There has been a regrettable confusion of identities, which I will ask you to forget. But what I cannot well understand is your agitation ... the strangeness of your manner since you arrived...."
"Why, monsieur, I was frightened ... there is over a hundred thousand francs' worth of jewels in my bag ... and your friend's attitude was not very reassuring."
"But your continual absences?..."
"Surely my occupation demands them?"
M. Dudouis had no reply to make. He turned to his subordinate:
"You have made your inquiries with a deplorable want of thoroughness, Ganimard, and your behaviour toward madame just now was uncouth. You shall give me an explanation in my office."
The interview was over and the chief of the detective service was about to take his leave, when a really disconcerting thing happened. Mme. Ral went up to the inspector and said:
"Do I understand your name to be M. Ganimard?... Did I catch the name right?"
"Yes."
"In that case, this letter must be for you. I received it this morning, addressed as you see: 'M. Justin Ganimard, care of Mme. Ral.' I thought it was a joke, as I did not know you under that name, but I have no doubt the writer, whoever he is, knew of your appointment."
By a singular intuition, Justin Ganimard was very nearly seizing the letter and destroying it. He dared not do so, however, before his superior and he tore open the envelope. The letter contained the following words, which he uttered in a hardly intelligible voice:
"There was once a Blonde Lady, a Lupin and a Ganimard. Now the naughty Ganimard wanted to harm the pretty Blonde Lady and the good Lupin did not wish it. So the good Lupin, who was anxious for the Blonde Lady to become friends with the Comtesse de Crozon, made her take the name of Mme. de Ral, which is the same--or nearly--as that of an honest tradeswoman whose hair is golden and her features pale. And the good Lupin said to himself, 'If ever the naughty Ganimard is on the track of the Blonde Lady, how useful it will be for me to shunt him on to the track of the honest tradeswoman!' A wise precaution, which has borne fruit. A little note sent to the naughty Ganimard's newspaper, a bottle of scent forgotten on purpose at the Htel Beaurivage by the real Blonde Lady, Mme. Ral's name and address written by the real Blonde Lady in the visitors' book at the hotel, and the trick is done. What do you say to it, Ganimard? I wanted to tell you the story in detail, knowing that, with your sense of humour, you would be the first to laugh at it. It is, indeed, a pretty story and I confess that, for my part, it has diverted me vastly.
"My best thanks to you, then, my dear friend, and kind regards to that capital M. Dudouis.
"ARSNE LUPIN."
"But he knows everything!" moaned Ganimard, who did not think of laughing. "He knows things that I have not told to a soul! How could he know that I would ask you to come, chief? How could he know that I had discovered the first scent-bottle?... How could he know?..."
He stamped about, tore his hair, a prey to the most tragic distress.
M. Dudouis took pity on him:
"Come, Ganimard, console yourself. We must try to do better next time."
And the chief detective went away, accompanied by Mme. Ral.
* * * * *
Ten minutes elapsed, while Ganimard read Lupin's letter over and over again and M. and Mme. de Crozon, M. d'Hautrec and M. Gerbois sustained an animated conversation in a corner. At last, the count crossed over to the inspector and said:
"The upshot of all this, my dear sir, is that we are no further than we were."
"Pardon me. My inquiry has established the fact that the blonde lady is the undoubted heroine of these adventures and that Lupin is directing her. That is a huge step forward."
"And not the smallest use to us. If anything, it makes the mystery darker still. The blonde lady commits murder to steal the blue diamond and does not steal it. She steals it and does so to get rid of it for another's benefit."
"What can I do?"
"Nothing, but some one else might...."
"What do you mean?"
The count hesitated, but the countess said, point blank:
"There is one man, one man only, in my opinion, besides yourself, who would be capable of fighting Lupin and reducing him to cry for mercy. M. Ganimard, would you very much mind if we called in the assistance of Holmlock Shears?"
He was taken aback:
"No ... no ... only ... I don't exactly understand...."
"Well, it's like this: all this mystery is making me quite ill. I want to know where I am. M. Gerbois and M. d'Hautrec have the same wish and we have come to an agreement to apply to the famous English