aire. And he tore open the envelope with an air
of frenzy.

He ran his eyes over it, and they grew larger and larger--they grew
almost of an average size.

"Listen," he said "listen:"

"DEAR SIR,"

"My collection of pictures, which I had the pleasure of starting three
years ago with some of your own, only contains, as far as Old Masters
go, one Velasquez, one Rembrandt, and three paltry Rubens. You have a
great many more. Since it is a shame such masterpieces should be in
your hands, I propose to appropriate them; and I shall set about a
respectful acquisition of them in your Paris house tomorrow morning."

"Yours very sincerely,"

"ARSENE LUPIN."

"He's humbugging," said the Duke.

"Wait! wait!" gasped the millionaire. "There's a postscript. Listen:"

"P.S.--You must understand that since you have been keeping the coronet
of the Princesse de Lamballe during these three years, I shall avail
myself of the same occasion to compel you to restore that piece of
jewellery to me.--A. L."

"The thief! The scoundrel! I'm choking!" gasped the millionaire,
clutching at his collar.

To judge from the blackness of his face, and the way he staggered and
dropped on to a couch, which was fortunately stronger than the chair,
he was speaking the truth.

"Firmin! Firmin!" shouted the Duke. "A glass of water! Quick! Your
master's ill."

He rushed to the side of the millionaire, who gasped: "Telephone!
Telephone to the Prefecture of Police! Be quick!"

The Duke loosened his collar with deft fingers; tore a Van Loo fan from
its case hanging on the wall, and fanned him furiously. Firmin came
clumping into the room with a glass of water in his hand.

The drawing-room door opened, and Germaine and Sonia, alarmed by the
Duke's shout, hurried in.

"Quick! Your smelling-salts!" said the Duke.

Sonia ran across the hall, opened one of the drawers in the Oriental
cabinet, and ran to the millionaire with a large bottle of
smelling-salts in her hand. The Duke took it from her, and applied it
to the millionaire's nose. The millionaire sneezed thrice with terrific
violence. The Duke snatched the glass from Firmin and dashed the water
into his host's purple face. The millionaire gasped and spluttered.

Germaine stood staring helplessly at her gasping sire.

"Whatever's the matter?" she said.

"It's this letter," said the Duke. "A letter from Lupin."

"I told you so--I said that Lupin was in the neighbourhood," cried
Germaine