r to the chief of the detective
service, giving a faithful account of the results of his investigations
and revealing the secret of the Hollow Needle. He asked for assistance
to complete his work and gave his address.

While waiting for the reply, he spent two consecutive nights in the
Chambre des Demoiselles. He spent them overcome with fear, his nerves
shaken with a terror which was increased by the sounds of the night. At
every moment, he thought he saw shadows approach in his direction.
People knew of his presence in the cave--they were coming--they were
murdering him!

His eyes, however, staring madly before them, sustained by all the
power of his will, clung to the piece of wall.

On the first night, nothing stirred; but, on the second, by the light
of the stars and a slender crescent-moon, he saw the door open and
figures emerge from the darkness: he counted two, three, four, five of
them.

It seemed to him that those five men were carrying fairly large loads.
He followed them for a little way. They cut straight across the fields
to the Havre road; and he heard the sound of a motor car driving away.

He retraced his steps, skirting a big farm. But, at the turn of the
road that ran beside it, he had only just time to scramble up a slope
and hide behind some trees. More men passed--four, five men--all
carrying packages. And, two minutes later, another motor snorted.

This time, he had not the strength to return to his post; and he went
back to bed.

When he woke and had finished dressing, the hotel waiter brought him a
letter. He opened it. It contained Ganimard's card.

"At last!" cried Beautrelet, who, after so hard a campaign, was really
feeling the need of a comrade-in-arms.

He ran downstairs with outstretched hands. Ganimard took them, looked
at him for a moment and said:

"You're a fine fellow, my lad!"

"Pooh!" he said. "Luck has served me."

"There's no such thing as luck with 'him,'" declared the inspector, who
always spoke of Lupin in a solemn tone and without mentioning his name.

He sat down:

"So we've got him!"

"Just as we've had him twenty times over," said Beautrelet, laughing.

"Yes, but to-day--"

"To-day, of course, the case is different. We know his retreat, his
stronghold, which means, when all is said, that Lupin is Lupin. He can
escape. The Etretat Needle cannot."

"Why do you suppose that he will escape?" asked Ganimard, anxiously.

"Why do you suppose that he requ