s, and his brain remained clear amid the
breakdown of his nerves. The little black hole of the revolver was
pointing at six inches from his eyes. The finger was bent and obviously
pressing on the trigger. It only wanted a moment--

"The paper," repeated Bredoux. "If not--"

"Here it is," said Beautrelet.

He took out his pocket-book and handed it to the clerk, who seized it
eagerly.

"Capital! We've come to our senses. I've no doubt there's something to
be done with you.--You're troublesome, but full of common sense. I'll
talk about it to my pals. And now I'm off. Good-bye!"

He pocketed his revolver and turned back the fastening of the window.
There was a noise in the passage.

"Good-bye," he said again. "I'm only just in time."

But the idea stopped him. With a quick movement, he examined the
pocket-book:

"Damn and blast it!" He grated through his teeth. "The paper's not
there.--You've done me--"

He leaped into the room. Two shots rang out. Isidore, in his turn, had
seized his pistol and fired.

"Missed, old chap!" shouted Bredoux. "Your hand's shaking.--You're
afraid--"

They caught each other round the body and came down to the floor
together. There was a violent and incessant knocking at the door.
Isidore's strength gave way and he was at once over come by his
adversary. It was the end. A hand was lifted over him, armed with a
knife, and fell. A fierce pain burst into his shoulder. He let go.

He had an impression of some one fumbling in the inside pocket of his
jacket and taking the paper from it. Then, through the lowered veil of
his eyelids, he half saw the man stepping over the window-sill.

* * * * *

The same newspapers which, on the following morning, related the last
episodes that had occurred at the Chateau d'Ambrumesy--the trickery at
the chapel, the discovery of Arsene Lupin's body and of Raymonde's body
and, lastly, the murderous attempt made upon Beautrelet by the clerk to
the examining magistrate--also announced two further pieces of news:
the disappearance of Ganimard, and the kidnapping of Holmlock Shears,
in broad daylight, in the heart of London, at the moment when he was
about to take the train for Dover.

Lupin's gang, therefore, which had been disorganized for a moment by
the extraordinary ingenuity of a seventeen-year-old schoolboy, was now
resuming the offensive and was winning all along the line from the
first. Lupin's two great adversari