oat and put it on.

We were now crossing the Seine. He turned up the bottoms of his
trousers, then leaned over and raised the exterior latch of the door.
Was he going to throw himself upon the track? At that speed, it would
have been instant death. We now entered a tunnel. The man opened the
door half-way and stood on the upper step. What folly! The darkness, the
smoke, the noise, all gave a fantastic appearance to his actions. But
suddenly, the train diminished its speed. A moment later it increased
its speed, then slowed up again. Probably, some repairs were being made
in that part of the tunnel which obliged the trains to diminish their
speed, and the man was aware of the fact. He immediately stepped down to
the lower step, closed the door behind him, and leaped to the ground. He
was gone.

The lady immediately recovered her wits, and her first act was to lament
the loss of her jewels. I gave her an imploring look. She understood,
and quickly removed the gag that stifled me. She wished to untie the
cords that bound me, but I prevented her.

"No, no, the police must see everything exactly as it stands. I want
them to see what the rascal did to us."

"Suppose I pull the alarm-bell?"

"Too late. You should have done that when he made the attack on me."

"But he would have killed me. Ah! monsieur, didn't I tell you that he
was on this train. I recognized him from his portrait. And now he has
gone off with my jewels."

"Don't worry. The police will catch him."

"Catch Arsene Lupin! Never."

"That depends on you, madame. Listen. When we arrive at Rouen, be at the
door and call. Make a noise. The police and the railway employees will
come. Tell what you have seen: the assault made on me and the flight of
Arsene Lupin. Give a description of him--soft hat, umbrella--yours--gray
overcoat...."

"Yours," said she.

"What! mine? Not at all. It was his. I didn't have any."

"It seems to me he didn't have one when he came in."

"Yes, yes.... unless the coat was one that some one had forgotten and
left in the rack. At all events, he had it when he went away, and that
is the essential point. A gray overcoat--remember!....Ah! I forgot.
You must tell your name, first thing you do. Your husband's official
position will stimulate the zeal of the police."

We arrived at the station. I gave her some further instructions in a
rather imperious tone:

"Tell them my name--Guillaume Berlat. If necessary, say that you know
me