one by one. Then, actuated by a
sudden decision, he dropped the other articles into an armchair, emptied
his pockets and unpacked his sack. He felt very uncomfortable in Nelly's
presence, and stepped toward her with the intention of speaking to her,
but she shuddered, rose quickly and fled toward the salon. The portiere
closed behind her. He followed her. She was standing trembling and
amazed at the sight of the devastated room. He said to her, at once:

"To-morrow, at three o'clock, everything will be returned. The furniture
will be brought back."

She made no reply, so he repeated:

"I promise it. To-morrow, at three o'clock. Nothing in the world could
induce me to break that promise....To-morrow, at three o'clock."

Then followed a long silence that he dared not break, whilst the
agitation of the young girl caused him a feeling of genuine regret.
Quietly, without a word, he turned away, thinking: "I hope she will go
away. I can't endure her presence." But the young girl suddenly spoke,
and stammered:

"Listen.... footsteps....I hear someone...."

He looked at her with astonishment. She seemed to be overwhelmed by the
thought of approaching peril.

"I don't hear anything," he said.

"But you must go--you must escape!"

"Why should I go?"

"Because--you must. Oh! do not remain here another minute. Go!"

She ran, quickly, to the door leading to the gallery and listened. No,
there was no one there. Perhaps the noise was outside. She waited a
moment, then returned reassured.

But Arsene Lupin had disappeared.

* * * * *

As soon as Mon. Devanne was informed of the pillage of his castle, he
said to himself: It was Velmont who did it, and Velmont is Arsene Lupin.
That theory explained everything, and there was no other plausible
explanation. And yet the idea seemed preposterous. It was ridiculous to
suppose that Velmont was anyone else than Velmont, the famous artist,
and club-fellow of his cousin d'Estevan. So, when the captain of the
gendarmes arrived to investigate the affair, Devanne did not even think
of mentioning his absurd theory.

Throughout the forenoon there was a lively commotion at the castle.
The gendarmes, the local police, the chief of police from Dieppe, the
villagers, all circulated to and fro in the halls, examining every
nook and corner that was open to their inspection. The approach of the
maneuvering troops, the rattling fire of the musketry, added to the
picturesque character of th