e. "It is you who have been taken
in, my poor friend. Daubrecq has the real list, the list which he stole
from the dying man's safe."

"But this one..."

"This one is a forgery."

"A forgery?"

"An undoubted forgery. It was an admirable piece of cunning on
Daubrecq's part. Dazzled by the crystal stopper which he flashed before
your eyes, you did nothing but look for that stopper in which he had
stowed away no matter what, the first bit of paper that came to hand,
while he quietly kept..."

Prasville interrupted himself. Clarisse was walking up to him with
short, stiff steps, like an automaton. She said:

"Then..."

"Then what, dear friend?"

"You refuse?"

"Certainly, I am obliged to; I have no choice."

"You refuse to take that step?"

"Look here, how can I do what you ask? It's not possible, on the
strength of a valueless document..."

"You won't do it?... You won't do it?... And, to-morrow morning... in a
few hours... Gilbert..."

She was frightfully pale, her face sunk, like the face of one dying. Her
eyes opened wider and wider and her teeth chattered...

Lupin, fearing the useless and dangerous words which she was about to
utter, seized her by the shoulders and tried to drag her away. But she
thrust him back with indomitable strength, took two or three more steps,
staggered, as though on the point of falling, and, suddenly, in a burst
of energy and despair, laid hold of Prasville and screamed:

"You shall go to the Elysee!... You shall go at once!... You must!...
You must save Gilbert!"

"Please, please, my dear friend, calm yourself..."

She gave a strident laugh:

"Calm myself!... When, to-morrow morning, Gilbert... Ah, no, no, I am
terrified... it's appalling.... Oh, run, you wretch, run! Obtain his
pardon!... Don't you understand? Gilbert... Gilbert is my son! My son!
My son!"

Prasville gave a cry. The blade of a knife flashed in Clarisse's hand
and she raised her arm to strike herself. But the movement was not
completed. M. Nicole caught her arm in its descent and, taking the knife
from Clarisse, reducing her to helplessness, he said, in a voice that
rang through the room like steel:

"What you are doing is madness!... When I gave you my oath that I would
save him! You must... live for him... Gilbert shall not die.... How can
he die, when... I gave you my oath?..."

"Gilbert... my son..." moaned Clarisse.

He clasped her fiercely, drew her against himself and put his hand over