seen him at work."

"And what do you think about it now?" she asked.

"Well, in my opinion, we are wasting our time."

And, as a matter of fact, the investigation had produced no result. But,
in the meantime, the captain's watch had been stolen. He was furious. He
quickened his efforts and watched Rozaine more closely than before. But,
on the following day, the watch was found in the second officer's collar
box.

This incident caused considerable astonishment, and displayed the
humorous side of Arsene Lupin, burglar though he was, but dilettante as
well. He combined business with pleasure. He reminded us of the
author who almost died in a fit of laughter provoked by his own play.
Certainly, he was an artist in his particular line of work, and whenever
I saw Rozaine, gloomy and reserved, and thought of the double role that
he was playing, I accorded him a certain measure of admiration.

On the following evening, the officer on deck duty heard groans
emanating from the darkest corner of the ship. He approached and found a
man lying there, his head enveloped in a thick gray scarf and his hands
tied together with a heavy cord. It was Rozaine. He had been assaulted,
thrown down and robbed. A card, pinned to his coat, bore these words:
"Arsene Lupin accepts with pleasure the ten thousand francs offered by
Mon. Rozaine." As a matter of fact, the stolen pocket-book contained
twenty thousand francs.

Of course, some accused the unfortunate man of having simulated this
attack on himself. But, apart from the fact that he could not have bound
himself in that manner, it was established that the writing on the
card was entirely different from that of Rozaine, but, on the contrary,
resembled the handwriting of Arsene Lupin as it was reproduced in an old
newspaper found on board.

Thus it appeared that Rozaine was not Arsene Lupin; but was Rozaine, the
son of a Bordeaux merchant. And the presence of Arsene Lupin was once
more affirmed, and that in a most alarming manner.

Such was the state of terror amongst the passengers that none would
remain alone in a stateroom or wander singly in unfrequented parts of
the vessel. We clung together as a matter of safety. And yet the most
intimate acquaintances were estranged by a mutual feeling of distrust.
Arsene Lupin was, now, anybody and everybody. Our excited imaginations
attributed to him miraculous and unlimited power. We supposed him
capable of assuming the most unexpected disguis