re."

"Him--never! He will find some means of escape."

"In that case, I wish him 'bon voyage.'"

"But, in the meantime, think what he may do!"

"What?"

"I don't know. He may do anything."

She was greatly agitated, and, truly, the situation justified, to some
extent, her nervous excitement. I was impelled to say to her:

"Of course, there are many strange coincidences, but you need have no
fear. Admitting that Arsene Lupin is on this train, he will not commit
any indiscretion; he will be only too happy to escape the peril that
already threatens him."

My words did not reassure her, but she remained silent for a time. I
unfolded my newspapers and read reports of Arsene Lupin's trial, but, as
they contained nothing that was new to me, I was not greatly interested.
Moreover, I was tired and sleepy. I felt my eyelids close and my head
drop.

"But, monsieur, you are not going to sleep!"

She seized my newspaper, and looked at me with indignation.

"Certainly not," I said.

"That would be very imprudent."

"Of course," I assented.

I struggled to keep awake. I looked through the window at the landscape
and the fleeting clouds, but in a short time all that became confused
and indistinct; the image of the nervous lady and the drowsy gentleman
were effaced from my memory, and I was buried in the soothing depths of
a profound sleep. The tranquility of my response was soon disturbed by
disquieting dreams, wherein a creature that had played the part and bore
the name of Arsene Lupin held an important place. He appeared to me
with his back laden with articles of value; he leaped over walls, and
plundered castles. But the outlines of that creature, who was no longer
Arsene Lupin, assumed a more definite form. He came toward me, growing
larger and larger, leaped into the compartment with incredible agility,
and landed squarely on my chest. With a cry of fright and pain, I awoke.
The man, the traveller, our companion, with his knee on my breast, held
me by the throat.

My sight was very indistinct, for my eyes were suffused with blood.
I could see the lady, in a corner of the compartment, convulsed
with fright. I tried even not to resist. Besides, I did not have the
strength. My temples throbbed; I was almost strangled. One minute more,
and I would have breathed my last. The man must have realized it, for he
relaxed his grip, but did not remove his hand. Then he took a cord, in
which he had prepared a slip-knot, a