d fumbled for the lock.

"Thunder!" said Lupin. "That idiot of a Ganimard is capable of
effecting his purpose for once in his life."

He rushed to the lock and removed the key.

"Sold, old chap!--The door's tough.--I have plenty of time--Beautrelet,
I must say good-bye. And thank you!--For really you could have
complicated the attack--but you're so tactful!"

While speaking, he moved toward a large triptych by Van der Weyden,
representing the Wise Men of the East. He shut the right-hand panel
and, in so doing, exposed a little door concealed behind it and seized
the handle.

"Good luck to your hunting, Ganimard! And kind regards at home!"

A pistol-shot resounded. Lupin jumped back: "Ah, you rascal, full in
the heart! Have you been taking lessons? You've done for the Wise Man!
Full in the heart! Smashed to smithereens, like a pipe at the fair!--"

"Lupin, surrender!" roared Ganimard, with his eyes glittering and his
revolver showing through the broken panel of the door. "Surrender, I
say!"

"Did the old guard surrender?"

"If you stir a limb, I'll blow your brains out!"

"Nonsense! You can't get me here!"

As a matter of fact, Lupin had moved away; and, though Ganimard was
able to fire straight in front of him through the breach in the door,
he could not fire, still less take aim, on the side where Lupin stood.
Lupin's position was a terrible one for all that, because the outlet on
which he was relying, the little door behind the triptych, opened right
in front of Ganimard. To try to escape meant to expose himself to the
detective's fire; and there were five bullets left in the revolver.

"By Jove," he said, laughing, "there's a slump in my shares this
afternoon! You've done a nice thing. Lupin, old fellow: you wanted a
last sensation and you've gone a bit too far. You shouldn't have talked
so much."

He flattened himself against the wall. A further portion of the panel
had given way under the men's pressure and Ganimard was less hampered
in his movements. Three yards, no more, separated the two antagonists.
But Lupin was protected by a glass case with a gilt-wood framework.

"Why don't you help, Beautrelet?" cried the old detective, gnashing his
teeth with rage. "Why don't you shoot him, instead of staring at him
like that?"

Isidore, in fact, had not budged, had remained, till that moment, an
eager, but passive spectator. He would have liked to fling himself into
the contest with all his strength an