g you round!" Lupin did not utter a word, did not betray a gesture
of irritation. With absolute composure, with a precision of movement
that showed his perfect self-control and the clear plan of conduct which
he had adopted, he gently pushed Daubrecq aside, went to the table and,
in his turn, took down the receiver of the telephone:

"I want 565.34, please," he said.

He waited until he was through; and then, speaking in a slow voice and
picking out every syllable, he said:

"Hullo!... Rue Chateaubriand?... Is that you, Achille?... Yes, it's the
governor. Listen to me carefully, Achille... You must leave the flat!
Hullo!... Yes, at once. The police are coming in a few minutes. No, no,
don't lose your head... You've got time. Only, do what I tell you. Is
your bag still packed?... Good. And is one of the sides empty, as I told
you?... Good. Well, go to my bedroom and stand with your face to the
chimney-piece. Press with your left hand on the little carved rosette in
front of the marble slab, in the middle, and with your right hand on the
top of the mantel-shelf. You'll see a sort of drawer, with two little
boxes in it. Be careful. One of them contains all our papers; the other,
bank-notes and jewellery. Put them both in the empty compartment of the
bag. Take the bag in your hand and go as fast as you can, on foot, to
the corner of the Avenue Victor-Hugo and the Avenue de Montespan. You'll
find the car waiting, with Victoire. I'll join you there... What?... My
clothes? My knickknacks?... Never mind about all that... You be off. See
you presently."

Lupin quietly pushed away the telephone. Then, taking Daubrecq by the
arm, he made him sit in a chair by his side and said:

"And now listen to me, Daubrecq."

"Oho!" grinned the deputy. "Calling each other by our surnames, are we?"

"Yes," said Lupin, "I allowed you to." And, when Daubrecq released his
arm with a certain misgiving, he said, "No, don't be afraid. We sha'n't
come to blows. Neither of us has anything to gain by doing away with the
other. A stab with a knife? What's the good? No, sir! Words, nothing but
words. Words that strike home, though. Here are mine: they are plain and
to the point. Answer me in the same way, without reflecting: that's far
better. The boy?"

"I have him."

"Give him back."

"No."

"Mme. Mergy will kill herself."

"No, she won't."

"I tell you she will."

"And I tell you she will not."

"But she's tried to, once."

"That'