"The warrant is in the name of Arsene Lupin."

"Arsene Lupin and the Nicole man are one and the same individual."

CHAPTER XII. THE SCAFFOLD

"I will save him, I will save him," Lupin repeated, without ceasing, in
the taxicab in which he and Clarisse drove away. "I swear that I will
save him."

Clarisse did not listen, sat as though numbed, as though possessed by
some great nightmare of death, which left her ignorant of all that was
happening outside her. And Lupin set forth his plans, perhaps more to
reassure himself than to convince Clarisse. "No, no, the game is not
lost yet. There is one trump left, a huge trump, in the shape of the
letters and documents which Vorenglade, the ex-deputy, is offering to
sell to Daubrecq and of which Daubrecq spoke to you yesterday at Nice.
I shall buy those letters and documents of Stanislas Vorenglade
at whatever price he chooses to name. Then we shall go back to the
police-office and I shall say to Prasville, 'Go to the Elysee at once
... Use the list as though it were genuine, save Gilbert from death and
be content to acknowledge to-morrow, when Gilbert is saved, that the
list is forged.

"'Be off, quickly!... If you refuse, well, if you refuse, the Vorenglade
letters and documents shall be reproduced to-morrow, Tuesday, morning
in one of the leading newspapers.' Vorenglade will be arrested. And M.
Prasville will find himself in prison before night."

Lupin rubbed his hands:

"He'll do as he's told!... He'll do as he's told!... I felt that at
once, when I was with him. The thing appeared to me as a dead certainty.
And I found Vorenglade's address in Daubrecq's pocket-books, so...
driver, Boulevard Raspail!"

They went to the address given. Lupin sprang from the cab, ran up three
flights of stairs.

The servant said that M. Vorenglade was away and would not be back until
dinner-time next evening.

"And don't you know where he is?"

"M. Vorenglade is in London, sir."

Lupin did not utter a word on returning to the cab. Clarisse, on her
side, did not even ask him any questions, so indifferent had she become
to everything, so absolutely did she look upon her son's death as an
accomplished fact.

They drove to the Place de Cichy. As Lupin entered the house he
passed two men who were just leaving the porter's box. He was too much
engrossed to notice them. They were Prasville's inspectors.

"No telegram?" he asked his servant.

"No, governor," replied Achille.

"