from Auteuil, on the edge of a pond hidden
amongst the trees, was absolutely deserted. After the lapse of another
half-hour, Ganimard became impatient and resolved to speak to the man.
He approached and took a seat beside Baudru, lighted a cigarette, traced
some figures in the sand with the end of his cane, and said:

"It's a pleasant day."

No response. But, suddenly the man burst into laughter, a happy,
mirthful laugh, spontaneous and irresistible. Ganimard felt his hair
stand on end in horror and surprise. It was that laugh, that infernal
laugh he knew so well!

With a sudden movement, he seized the man by the collar and looked at
him with a keen, penetrating gaze; and found that he no longer saw the
man Baudru. To be sure, he saw Baudru; but, at the same time, he saw the
other, the real man, Lupin. He discovered the intense life in the eyes,
he filled up the shrunken features, he perceived the real flesh beneath
the flabby skin, the real mouth through the grimaces that deformed it.
Those were the eyes and mouth of the other, and especially his keen,
alert, mocking expression, so clear and youthful!

"Arsene Lupin, Arsene Lupin," he stammered.

Then, in a sudden fit of rage, he seized Lupin by the throat and tried
to hold him down. In spite of his fifty years, he still possessed
unusual strength, whilst his adversary was apparently in a weak
condition. But the struggle was a brief one. Arsene Lupin made only a
slight movement, and, as suddenly as he had made the attack, Ganimard
released his hold. His right arm fell inert, useless.

"If you had taken lessons in jiu-jitsu at the quai des Orfevres," said
Lupin, "you would know that that blow is called udi-shi-ghi in Japanese.
A second more, and I would have broken your arm and that would have been
just what you deserve. I am surprised that you, an old friend whom I
respect and before whom I voluntarily expose my incognito, should abuse
my confidence in that violent manner. It is unworthy--Ah! What's the
matter?"

Ganimard did not reply. That escape for which he deemed himself
responsible--was it not he, Ganimard, who, by his sensational evidence,
had led the court into serious error? That escape appeared to him like
a dark cloud on his professional career. A tear rolled down his cheek to
his gray moustache.

"Oh! mon Dieu, Ganimard, don't take it to heart. If you had not spoken,
I would have arranged for some one else to do it. I couldn't allow poor
Baudru D