you're so full of
surprises."

"I've startled you, have I? I thought I should. It's true that I'm full
of surprises. It's my knowledge. I understand so much. I understand
business, and I love art, pictures, a good bargain, bric-a-brac, fine
tapestry. They're first-class investments. Yes, certainly I do love the
beautiful. And I don't want to boast, but I understand it. I have
taste, and I've something better than taste; I have a flair, the
dealer's flair."

"Yes, your collections, especially your collection in Paris, prove it,"
said the Duke, stifling a yawn.

"And yet you haven't seen the finest thing I have--the coronet of the
Princesse de Lamballe. It's worth half a million francs."

"So I've heard," said the Duke, a little wearily. "I don't wonder that
Arsene Lupin envied you it."

The Empire chair creaked as the millionaire jumped.

"Don't speak of the swine!" he roared. "Don't mention his name before
me."

"Germaine showed me his letter," said the Duke. "It is amusing."

"His letter! The blackguard! I just missed a fit of apoplexy from it,"
roared the millionaire. "I was in this very hall where we are now,
chatting quietly, when all at once in comes Firmin, and hands me a
letter."

He was interrupted by the opening of the door. Firmin came clumping
down the room, and said in his deep voice, "A letter for you, sir."

"Thank you," said the millionaire, taking the letter, and, as he fitted
his eye-glass into his eye, he went on, "Yes, Firmin brought me a
letter of which the handwriting,"--he raised the envelope he was
holding to his eyes, and bellowed, "Good heavens!"

"What's the matter?" said the Duke, jumping in his chair at the sudden,
startling burst of sound.

"The handwriting!--the handwriting!--it's THE SAME HANDWRITING!" gasped
the millionaire. And he let himself fall heavily backwards against the
back of his chair.

There was a crash. The Duke had a vision of huge arms and legs waving
in the air as the chair-back gave. There was another crash. The chair
collapsed. The huge bulk banged to the floor.

The laughter of the Duke rang out uncontrollably. He caught one of the
waving arms, and jerked the flabby giant to his feet with an ease which
seemed to show that his muscles were of steel.

"Come," he said, laughing still. "This is nonsense! What do you mean by
the same handwriting? It can't be."

"It is the same handwriting. Am I likely to make a mistake about it?"
spluttered the million