d in vain. There
was therefore not a doubt left that the creature who had ransacked the
jacket was the very same who now opened the case, picked out a cigarette
and struck a match taken from a box which also belonged to the cripple!

O miracle! A real flame came from the match! O incomparable marvel!
Clouds of smoke rose from the cigarette, real smoke, of which the cripple
at once knew the particular smell!

He hid his head in his hands. He refused to see more. Whether ghost
or optical illusion, an emanation from another world, or an image
born of his remorse and proceeding from himself, it should torture
his eyes no longer.

But he heard the sound of a step approaching him, growing more and more
distinct as it came closer! He felt a strange presence moving near him!
An arm was stretched out! A hand fell on his shoulder! That hand clutched
his flesh with an irresistible grip! And he heard words spoken by a voice
which, beyond mistake, was the human and living voice of Arsene Lupin!

"Why, my dear sir, what a state we're getting ourselves into! Of course,
I understand that my sudden return seems an unusual and even an
inconvenient proceeding, but still it does not do to be so uncontrollably
impressed. Men have seen much more extraordinary things than that, such
as Joshua staying the sun, and more sensational disasters, such as the
Lisbon earthquake of 1755.

"The wise man reduces events to their proper proportions and judges them,
not by their action upon his own destiny, but by the way in which they
influence the fortunes of the world. Now confess that your little mishap
is purely individual and does not affect the equilibrium of the solar
system. You know what Marcus Aurelius says, on page 84, of Charpentier's
edition--"

The cripple had plucked up courage to raise his head; and the real state
of things now became so obviously apparent that he could no longer get
away from the undeniable fact: Arsene Lupin was not dead! Arsene Lupin
whom he had hurled into the bowels of the earth and crushed as surely as
an insect is crushed with a hammer; Arsene Lupin was not dead!

How to explain so astounding a mystery the cripple did not even stop to
wonder. One thing alone mattered: Arsene Lupin was not dead. Arsene Lupin
looked and spoke as a living man does. Arsene Lupin was not dead. He
breathed, he smiled, he talked, he lived!

And it was so certainly life that the scoundrel saw before him that,
obeying a sudden impul