francs each, with a card bearing these words: "Arsene Lupin
to his worthy colleagues Honore Massol and Gaston Delivet, as a slight
token of his gratitude." I placed it in a prominent spot in the room,
where they would be sure to find it. Beside it, I placed Madame Renaud's
handbag. Why could I not return it to the lady who had befriended me?
I must confess that I had taken from it everything that possessed any
interest or value, leaving there only a shell comb, a stick of rouge
Dorin for the lips, and an empty purse. But, you know, business
is business. And then, really, her husband is engaged in such a
dishonorable vocation!

The man was becoming conscious. What was I to do? I was unable to save
him or condemn him. So I took his revolver and fired a shot in the air.

"My two acolytes will come and attend to his case," I said to myself, as
I hastened away by the road through the ravine. Twenty minutes later, I
was seated in my automobile.

At four o'clock, I telegraphed to my friends at Rouen that an unexpected
event would prevent me from making my promised visit. Between ourselves,
considering what my friends must now know, my visit is postponed
indefinitely. A cruel disillusion for them!

At six o'clock I was in Paris. The evening newspapers informed me that
Pierre Onfrey had been captured at last.

Next day,--let us not despise the advantages of judicious
advertising,--the `Echo de France' published this sensational item:

"Yesterday, near Buchy, after numerous exciting incidents, Arsene Lupin
effected the arrest of Pierre Onfrey. The assassin of the rue Lafontaine
had robbed Madame Renaud, wife of the director in the penitentiary
service, in a railway carriage on the Paris-Havre line. Arsene Lupin
restored to Madame Renaud the hand-bag that contained her jewels, and
gave a generous recompense to the two detectives who had assisted him in
making that dramatic arrest."

V. The Queen's Necklace

Two or three times each year, on occasions of unusual importance,
such as the balls at the Austrian Embassy or the soirees of Lady
Billingstone, the Countess de Dreux-Soubise wore upon her white
shoulders "The Queen's Necklace."

It was, indeed, the famous necklace, the legendary necklace that
Bohmer and Bassenge, court jewelers, had made for Madame Du Barry; the
veritable necklace that the Cardinal de Rohan-Soubise intended to give
to Marie-Antoinette, Queen of France; and the same that the adventuress
Jean