nd tied my wrists together. In an
instant, I was bound, gagged, and helpless.

Certainly, he accomplished the trick with an ease and skill that
revealed the hand of a master; he was, no doubt, a professional thief.
Not a word, not a nervous movement; only coolness and audacity. And I
was there, lying on the bench, bound like a mummy, I--Arsene Lupin!

It was anything but a laughing matter, and yet, despite the gravity
of the situation, I keenly appreciated the humor and irony that it
involved. Arsene Lupin seized and bound like a novice! robbed as if I
were an unsophisticated rustic--for, you must understand, the scoundrel
had deprived me of my purse and wallet! Arsene Lupin, a victim, duped,
vanquished....What an adventure!

The lady did not move. He did not even notice her. He contented himself
with picking up her traveling-bag that had fallen to the floor and
taking from it the jewels, purse, and gold and silver trinkets that it
contained. The lady opened her eyes, trembled with fear, drew the rings
from her fingers and handed them to the man as if she wished to spare
him unnecessary trouble. He took the rings and looked at her. She
swooned.

Then, quite unruffled, he resumed his seat, lighted a cigarette, and
proceeded to examine the treasure that he had acquired. The examination
appeared to give him perfect satisfaction.

But I was not so well satisfied. I do not speak of the twelve thousand
francs of which I had been unduly deprived: that was only a temporary
loss, because I was certain that I would recover possession of that
money after a very brief delay, together with the important papers
contained in my wallet: plans, specifications, addresses, lists of
correspondents, and compromising letters. But, for the moment, a more
immediate and more serious question troubled me: How would this affair
end? What would be the outcome of this adventure?

As you can imagine, the disturbance created by my passage through the
Saint-Lazare station has not escaped my notice. Going to visit friends
who knew me under the name of Guillaume Berlat, and amongst whom my
resemblance to Arsene Lupin was a subject of many innocent jests, I
could not assume a disguise, and my presence had been remarked.
So, beyond question, the commissary of police at Rouen, notified by
telegraph, and assisted by numerous agents, would be awaiting the train,
would question all suspicious passengers, and proceed to search the
cars.

Of course, I