resolute faces, entered the room,
and immediately commenced to remove the furnishings. Arsene Lupin passed
quickly from one piece of furniture to another, examined each, and,
according to its size or artistic value, he directed his men to take it
or leave it. If ordered to be taken, it was carried to the gaping mouth
of the tunnel, and ruthlessly thrust into the bowels of the earth. Such
was the fate of six armchairs, six small Louis XV chairs, a quantity
of Aubusson tapestries, some candelabra, paintings by Fragonard and
Nattier, a bust by Houdon, and some statuettes. Sometimes, Lupin would
linger before a beautiful chest or a superb picture, and sigh:

"That is too heavy.... too large.... what a pity!"

In forty minutes the room was dismantled; and it had been accomplished
in such an orderly manner and with as little noise as if the various
articles had been packed and wadded for the occasion.

Lupin said to the last man who departed by way of the tunnel:

"You need not come back. You understand, that as soon as the auto-van is
loaded, you are to proceed to the grange at Roquefort."

"But you, patron?"

"Leave me the motor-cycle."

When the man had disappeared, Arsene Lupin pushed the section of the
bookcase back into its place, carefully effaced the traces of the men's
footsteps, raised a portiere, and entered a gallery, which was the only
means of communication between the tower and the castle. In the center
of this gallery there was a glass cabinet which had attracted Lupin's
attentions. It contained a valuable collection of watches, snuff-boxes,
rings, chatelaines and miniatures of rare and beautiful workmanship. He
forced the lock with a small jimmy, and experienced a great pleasure in
handling those gold and silver ornaments, those exquisite and delicate
works of art.

He carried a large linen bag, specially prepared for the removal of
such knick-knacks. He filled it. Then he filled the pockets of his coat,
waistcoat and trousers. And he was just placing over his left arm a
number of pearl reticules when he heard a slight sound. He listened. No,
he was not deceived. The noise continued. Then he remembered that, at
one end of the gallery, there was a stairway leading to an unoccupied
apartment, but which was probably occupied that night by the young lady
whom Mon. Devanne had brought from Dieppe with his other visitors.

Immediately he extinguished his lantern, and had scarcely gained the
friendly shel