it instructions till eight
morning. All well.' Is there anything there that seems obscure? The
word 'luggage'? Pooh, you wouldn't have them write 'M. Beautrelet,
senior'! What then? The way in which the operation was performed? The
miracle by which your father was taken out of Cherbourg Arsenal, in
spite of his twenty body-guards? Pooh, it's as easy as A B C! And the
fact remains that the luggage has been dispatched. What do you say to
that, baby?"

With all his tense being, with all his exasperated energy, Isidore
tried to preserve a good countenance. But I saw his lips quiver, his
jaw shrink, his eyes vainly strive to fix upon a point. He lisped a few
words, then was silent and, suddenly, gave way and, with his hands
before his face, burst into loud sobs:

"Oh, father! Father!"

An unexpected result, which was certainly the collapse which Lupin's
pride demanded, but also something more, something infinitely touching
and infinitely artless. Lupin gave a movement of annoyance and took up
his hat, as though this unaccustomed display of sentiment were too much
for him. But, on reaching the door, he stopped, hesitated and then
returned, slowly, step by step.

The soft sound of the sobs rose like the sad wailing of a little child
overcome with grief. The lad's shoulders marked the heart-rending
rhythm. Tears appeared through the crossed fingers. Lupin leaned
forward and, without touching Beautrelet, said, in a voice that had not
the least tone of pleasantry, nor even of the offensive pity of the
victor:

"Don't cry, youngster. This is one of those blows which a man must
expect when he rushes headlong into the fray, as you did. The worst
disasters lie in wait for him. The destiny of fighters will have it so.
We must suffer it as bravely as we can." Then, with a sort of
gentleness, he continued, "You were right, you see: we are not enemies.
I have known it for long. From the very first, I felt for you, for the
intelligent creature that you are, an involuntary sympathy--and
admiration. And that is why I wanted to say this to you--don't be
offended, whatever you do: I should be extremely sorry to offend
you--but I must say it: well, give up struggling against me. I am not
saying this out of vanity--nor because I despise you--but, you see, the
struggle is too unequal. You do not know--nobody knows all the
resources which I have at my command. Look here, this secret of the
Hollow Needle which you are trying so vainly to un