s then that I'm
frightened ... when you get a woman mixed up in your game. Always, when
you come to grief ... when you really get into danger, there's a woman
in it."

"Oh, but she's charming!" protested Lupin.

"They always are," said Victoire drily. "But go on. Tell me how you got
here."

"Well, I knew it was going to be a tough job, so I took a good rest--an
hour, I should think. And then I started to walk back. I found that I
had come a devil of a way--I must have gone at Marathon pace. I walked
and walked, and at last I got into Paris, and found myself with still a
couple of miles to go. It was all right now; I should soon find a cab.
But the luck was dead against me. I heard a man come round the corner
of a side-street into a long street I was walking down. He gave a yell,
and came bucketing after me. It was that hound Dieusy. He had
recognized my figure. Off I went; and the chase began again. I led him
a dance, but I couldn't shake him off. All the while I was working my
way towards home. Then, just at last, I spurted for all I was worth,
got out of his sight, bolted round the corner of the street into the
secret entrance, and here I am." He smiled weakly, and added, "Oh, my
dear Victoire, what a profession it is!"

CHAPTER XXI

THE CUTTING OF THE TELEPHONE WIRES

The door opened, and in came Charolais, bearing a tray.

"Here's your breakfast, master," he said.

"Don't call me master--that's how his men address Guerchard. It's a
disgusting practice," said Lupin severely.

Victoire and Charolais were quick laying the table. Charolais kept up a
running fire of questions as he did it; but Lupin did not trouble to
answer them. He lay back, relaxed, drawing deep breaths. Already his
lips had lost their greyness, and were pink; there was a suggestion of
blood under the skin of his pale face. They soon had the table laid;
and he walked to it on fairly steady feet. He sat down; Charolais
whipped off a cover, and said:

"Anyhow, you've got out of the mess neatly. It was a jolly smart
escape."

"Oh, yes. So far it's all right," said Lupin. "But there's going to be
trouble presently--lots of it. I shall want all my wits. We all shall."

He fell upon his breakfast with the appetite but not the manners of a
wolf. Charolais went out of the room. Victoire hovered about him,
pouring out his coffee and putting sugar into it.

"By Jove, how good these eggs are!" he said. "I think that, of all the
thousand