The Golden Triangle Part 43

"It's the first time we saw him. But we knew that he was in M. Essares'

service."

"Oh, so you've worked for M. Essares?"

"Yes, often. . . . Same job and same trip."

"He called you by means of a signal, didn't he?"

"Yes, he used to light an old factory-chimney."

"Was it always bags?"

"Yes. We didn't know what was inside. He was a good payer."

Patrice asked no more questions. He hurriedly got into his boat, pulled back to sh.o.r.e and found Don Luis seated with a comfortable supper in front of him.

"Quick!" he said. "The cargo is on board a steamer, the _Chamois_. We can catch her up between Rouen and Le Havre."

Don Luis rose and handed the officer a white-paper packet:

"Here's a few sandwiches for you, captain," he said. "We've an arduous night before us. I'm very sorry that you didn't get a sleep, as I did.

Let's be off, and this time I shall drive. We'll knock some pace out of her! Come and sit beside me, captain."

They both stepped into the car; the chauffeur took his seat behind them.

But they had hardly started when Patrice exclaimed:

"Hi! What are you up to? Not this way! We're going back to Mantes or Paris!"

"That's what I mean to do," said Luis, with a chuckle.

"Eh, what? Paris?"

"Well, of course!"

"Oh, look here, this is a bit too thick! Didn't I tell you that the two bargees . . . ?"

"Those bargees of yours are humbugs."

"They declared that the cargo . . ."

"Cargo? No go!"

"But the _Chamois_ . . ."

"_Chamois_? Sham was! I tell you once more, we're done, captain, done brown! Old Simeon is a wonderful old hand! He's a match worth meeting.

He gives you a run for your money. He laid a trap in which I've been fairly caught. It's a magnificent joke, but there's moderation in all things. We've been fooled enough to last us the rest of our lives. Let's be serious now."

"But . . ."

"Aren't you satisfied yet, captain? After the _Belle Helene_ do you want to attack the _Chamois_? As you please. You can get out at Mantes: Only, I warn you, Simeon is in Paris, with three or four hours' start of us."

Patrice gave a shudder. Simeon in Paris! In Paris, where Coralie was alone and unprotected! He made no further protest; and Don Luis ran on:

"Oh, the rascal! How well he played his hand! _The Memoirs of Benjamin Franklin_ were a master stroke. Knowing of my arrival, he said to himself, 'a.r.s.ene Lupin is a dangerous fellow, capable of disentangling the affair and putting both me and the bags of gold in his pocket. To get rid of him, there's only one thing to be done: I must act in such a way as to make him rush along the real track at so fast a rate of speed that he does not perceive the moment when the real track becomes a false track.' That was clever of him, wasn't it? And so we have the Franklin book, held out as a bait; the page opening of itself, at the right place; my inevitable easy discovery of the conduit system; the clue of Ariadne most obligingly offered. I follow up the clue like a trusting child, led by Simeon's own hand, from the cellar down to Berthou's Wharf. So far all's well. But, from that moment, take care! There's n.o.body at Berthou's Wharf. On the other hand, there's a barge alongside, which means a chance of making enquiries, which means the certainty that I shall make enquiries. And I make enquiries. And, having made enquiries, I am done for."

"But then that man . . . ?"

"Yes, yes, yes, an accomplice of Simeon's, whom Simeon, knowing that he would be followed to the Gare Saint-Lazare, instructs in this way to direct me to Mantes for the second time. At Mantes the comedy continues.

The _Belle Helene_ pa.s.ses, with her double freight, Simeon and the bags of gold. We go running after the _Belle Helene_. Of course, on the _Belle Helene_ there's nothing: no Simeon, no bags of gold. 'Run after the _Chamois_. We've trans.h.i.+pped it all on the _Chamois_.' We run after the _Chamois_, to Rouen, to Le Havre, to the end of the world; and of course our pursuit is fruitless, for the _Chamois_ does not exist. But we are convinced that she does exist and that she has escaped our search. And by this time the trick is played. The millions are gone, Simeon has disappeared and there is only one thing left for us to do, which is to resign ourselves and abandon our quest. You understand, we're to abandon our quest: that's the fellow's object. And he would have succeeded if . . ."

The car was traveling at full speed. From time to time Don Luis would stop her dead with extraordinary skill. Post of territorials. Pa.s.s to be produced. Then a leap onward and once more the breakneck pace.

"If what?" asked Patrice, half-convinced. "Which was the clue that put you on the track?"

"The presence of that woman at Mantes. It was a vague clue at first. But suddenly I remembered that, in the first barge, the _Nonchalante_, the person who gave us information--do you recollect?--well, that this person somehow gave me the queer impression, I can't tell you why, that I might be talking to a woman in disguise. The impression occurred to me once more. I made a mental comparison with the woman at Mantes. . . .

And then . . . and then it was like a flash of light. . . ."

Don Luis paused to think and, in a lower voice, continued:

"But who the devil can this woman be?"

There was a brief silence, after which Patrice said, from instinct rather than reason:

"Gregoire, I suppose."

"Eh? What's that? Gregoire?"

"Yes. Yes, Gregoire is a woman."

"What are you talking about?"

"Well, obviously. Don't you remember? The accomplice told me so, on the day when I had them arrested outside the cafe."

"Why, your diary doesn't say a word about it!"

"Oh, that's true! . . . I forgot to put down that detail."

"A detail! He calls it a detail! Why, it's of the greatest importance, captain! If I had known, I should have guessed that that bargee was no other than Gregoire and we should not have wasted a whole night. Hang it all, captain, you really are the limit!"

But all this was unable to affect his good-humor. While Patrice, overcome with presentiments, grew gloomier and gloomier, Don Luis began to sing victory in his turn:

"Thank goodness! The battle is becoming serious! Really, it was too easy before; and that was why I was sulking, I, Lupin! Do you imagine things go like that in real life? Does everything fit in so accurately?

Benjamin Franklin, the uninterrupted conduit for the gold, the series of clues that reveal themselves of their own accord, the man and the bags meeting at Mantes, the _Belle Helene_: no, it all worried me. The cat was being choked with cream! And then the gold escaping in a barge! All very well in times of peace, but not in war-time, in the face of the regulations: pa.s.ses, patrol-boats, inspections and I don't know what.

. . . How could a fellow like Simeon risk a trip of that kind? No, I had my suspicions; and that was why, captain, I made Ya-Bon mount guard, on the off chance, outside Berthou's Wharf. It was just an idea that occurred to me. The whole of this adventure seemed to center round the wharf. Well, was I right or not? Is M. Lupin no longer able to follow a scent? Captain, I repeat, I shall go back to-morrow evening. Besides, as I told you, I've got to. Whether I win or lose, I'm going. But we shall win. Everything will be cleared up. There will be no more mysteries, not even the mystery of the golden triangle. . . . Oh, I don't say that I shall bring you a beautiful triangle of eighteen-carat gold! We mustn't allow ourselves to be fascinated by words. It may be a geometrical arrangement of the bags of gold, a triangular pile . . . or else a hole in the ground dug in that shape. No matter, we shall have it! And the bags of gold shall be ours! And Patrice and Coralie shall appear before monsieur le maire and receive my blessing and live happily ever after!"

They reached the gates of Paris. Patrice was becoming more and more anxious:

"Then you think the danger's over?"