away."

The inspector called in a couple of policemen, and with their aid he
and Bonavent raised the sleeping woman, a man at each corner of the
mattress, and bore her from the room.

"And now to reconstruct," said M. Formery; and he folded his arms and
plunged into profound reflection.

The Duke and Guerchard watched him in silence.

CHAPTER XI

THE FAMILY ARRIVES

In carrying out Victoire, the inspector had left the door of the
drawing-room open. After he had watched M. Formery reflect for two
minutes, Guerchard faded--to use an expressive Americanism--through it.
The Duke felt in the breast-pocket of his coat, murmured softly, "My
cigarettes," and followed him.

He caught up Guerchard on the stairs and said, "I will come with you,
if I may, M. Guerchard. I find all these investigations extraordinarily
interesting. I have been observing M. Formery's methods--I should like
to watch yours, for a change."

"By all means," said Guerchard. "And there are several things I want to
hear about from your Grace. Of course it might be an advantage to
discuss them together with M. Formery, but--" and he hesitated.

"It would be a pity to disturb M. Formery in the middle of the process
of reconstruction," said the Duke; and a faint, ironical smile played
round the corners of his sensitive lips.

Guerchard looked at him quickly: "Perhaps it would," he said.

They went through the house, out of the back door, and into the garden.
Guerchard moved about twenty yards from the house, then he stopped and
questioned the Duke at great length. He questioned him first about the
Charolais, their appearance, their actions, especially about Bernard's
attempt to steal the pendant, and the theft of the motor-cars.

"I have been wondering whether M. Charolais might not have been Arsene
Lupin himself," said the Duke.

"It's quite possible," said Guerchard. "There seem to be no limits
whatever to Lupin's powers of disguising himself. My colleague,
Ganimard, has come across him at least three times that he knows of, as
a different person. And no single time could he be sure that it was the
same man. Of course, he had a feeling that he was in contact with some
one he had met before, but that was all. He had no certainty. He may
have met him half a dozen times besides without knowing him. And the
photographs of him--they're all different. Ganimard declares that Lupin
is so extraordinarily successful in his disguises because he i