tood up and put
on his hat.

Then lamentations broke forth. The two lean sisters and the workman's
wife fell upon their knees and made the sign of the cross. The lady with
the little dog and the beggar-woman kissed each other and sobbed; and we
saw Louise d'Ernemont pressing her daughter sadly to her.

"Let's go," said Lupin.

"You think it's over?"

"Yes; and we have only just time to make ourselves scarce."

We went out unmolested. At the top of the lane, Lupin turned to the left
and, leaving me outside, entered the first house in the Rue Raynouard,
the one that backed on to the enclosure.

After talking for a few seconds to the porter, he joined me and we
stopped a passing taxi-cab:

"No. 34 Rue de Turin," he said to the driver.

The ground-floor of No. 34 was occupied by a notary's office; and we
were shown in, almost without waiting, to Maitre Valandier, a smiling,
pleasant-spoken man of a certain age.

Lupin introduced himself by the name of Captain Jeanniot, retired from
the army. He said that he wanted to build a house to his own liking
and that some one had suggested to him a plot of ground situated near
the Rue Raynouard.

"But that plot is not for sale," said Maitre Valandier.

"Oh, I was told...."

"You have been misinformed, I fear."

The lawyer rose, went to a cupboard and returned with a picture which he
showed us. I was petrified. It was the same picture which I had bought,
the same picture that hung in Louise d'Ernemont's room.

"This is a painting," he said, "of the plot of ground to which you
refer. It is known as the Clos d'Ernemont."

"Precisely."

"Well, this close," continued the notary, "once formed part of a large
garden belonging to d'Ernemont, the farmer-general, who was executed
during the Terror. All that could be sold has been sold, piecemeal, by
the heirs. But this last plot has remained and will remain in their
joint possession ... unless...."

The notary began to laugh.

"Unless what?" asked Lupin.

"Well, it's quite a romance, a rather curious romance, in fact. I often
amuse myself by looking through the voluminous documents of the case."

"Would it be indiscreet, if I asked ...?"

"Not at all, not at all," declared Maitre Valandier, who seemed
delighted, on the contrary, to have found a listener for his story. And,
without waiting to be pressed, he began: "At the outbreak of the
Revolution, Louis Agrippa d'Ernemont, on the pretence of joining his
wife, who