and then, without taking his eyes from his strange visitor, went
to the fireplace and rang the bell.

Lupin did not make a movement. He waited smiling.

The butler entered. His master said:

"You can go to bed, Antoine. I will let this gentleman out."

"Shall I put out the lights, sir?"

"Leave a light in the hall."

Antoine left the room and the baron, after taking a revolver from his
desk, at once came back to Lupin, put the weapon in his pocket and said,
very calmly:

"You must excuse this little precaution, sir. I am obliged to take it in
case you should be mad, though that does not seem likely. No, you are
not mad. But you have come here with an object which I fail to grasp;
and you have sprung upon me an accusation of so astounding a character
that I am curious to know the reason. I have experienced so much
disappointment and undergone so much suffering that an outrage of this
kind leaves me indifferent. Continue, please."

His voice shook with emotion and his sad eyes seemed moist with tears.

Lupin shuddered. Had he made a mistake? Was the surmise which his
intuition had suggested to him and which was based upon a frail
groundwork of slight facts, was this surmise wrong?

His attention was caught by a detail: through the opening in the baron's
waistcoat he saw the point of the pin fixed in the tie and was thus able
to realize the unusual length of the pin. Moreover, the gold stem was
triangular and formed a sort of miniature dagger, very thin and very
delicate, yet formidable in an expert hand.

And Lupin had no doubt but that the pin attached to that magnificent
pearl was the weapon which had pierced the heart of the unfortunate M.
Lavernoux.

He muttered:

"You're jolly clever, monsieur le baron!"

The other, maintaining a rather scornful gravity, kept silence, as
though he did not understand and as though waiting for the explanation
to which he felt himself entitled. And, in spite of everything, this
impassive attitude worried Arsene Lupin. Nevertheless, his conviction
was so profound and, besides, he had staked so much on the adventure
that he repeated:

"Yes, jolly clever, for it is evident that the baroness only obeyed your
orders in realizing your securities and also in borrowing the princess's
jewels on the pretence of buying them. And it is evident that the person
who walked out of your house with a bag was not your wife, but an
accomplice, that chorus-girl probably, and that it is y