undering to the end. I can't help it, we all have our
weaknesses--and I have one for you. Besides, it's not done yet. From
now until you put your finger into the hollow of the Needle, a good
deal of water will flow under the bridges. Dash it all, it took me ten
days! Me! Lupin! You will want ten years, at least! There's that much
distance between us, after all!"

The motor arrived, an immense closed car. Lupin opened the door and
Beautreiet gave a cry. There was a man inside and that man was Lupin,
or rather Massiban. Suddenly understanding, he burst out laughing.
Lupin said:

"Don't be afraid, he's sound asleep. I promised that you should see
him. Do you grasp the situation now? At midnight, I knew of your
appointment at the castle. At seven in the morning, I was there. When
Massiban passed, I had only to collect him--give him a tiny prick with
a needle--and the thing--was done. Sleep old chap, sleep away. We'll
set you down on the slope. That's it--there--capital--right in the sun,
then you won't catch cold--good! And our hat in our hand.--Spare a
copper, kind gentleman!--Oh. my dear old Massiban, so you were after
Arsene Lupin!"

It was really a huge joke to see the two Massibans face to face, one
asleep with his head on his chest, the other seriously occupied in
paying him every sort of attention and respect:

"Pity a poor blind man! There, Massiban, here's two sous and my
visiting-card. And now, my lads, off we go at the fourth speed. Do you
hear, driver? You've got to do seventy-five miles an hour. Jump in,
Isidore. There's a full sitting of the Institute to-day, and Massiban
is to read a little paper, on I don't know what, at half-past three.
Well, he'll read them his little paper. I'll dish them up a complete
Massiban, more real than the real one, with my own ideas, on the
lacustrine inscriptions. I don't have an opportunity of lecturing at
the Institute ever day!--Faster, chauffeur: we're only doing
seventy-one and a half!--Are you afraid? Remember you're with
Lupin!--Ah, Isidore, and then people say that life is monotonous! Why,
life's an adorable thing, my boy; only one has to know--and I know--.
Wasn't it enough to make a man jump out of his skin for joy, just now,
at the castle, when you were chattering with old Velines and I, up
against the window, was tearing out the pages of the historic book? And
then, when you were questioning the Dame de Villemon about the Hollow
Needle! Would she speak? Yes, she