cell, but they never imagine that Arsène Lupin would be foolish enough to choose such a simple hiding place.” 

 Ganimard laughed, as he said: 

 “What a droll fellow you are! Really, you bewilder me. But, come now, tell me about the Cahorn affair.” 

 “Oh! oh! not quite so fast! You would rob me of all my secrets; expose all my little tricks. That is a very serious matter.” 

 “Was I wrong to count on your complaisance?” 

 “No, Ganimard, and since you insist—-” 

 Arsène Lupin paced his cell two or three times, then, stopping before Ganimard, he asked: 

 “What do you think of my letter to the baron?” 

 “I think you were amusing yourself by playing to the gallery.” 

 “Ah! playing to the gallery! Come, Ganimard, I thought you knew me better. Do I, Arsène Lupin, ever waste my time on such puerilities? Would I have written that letter if I could have robbed the baron without writing to him? I want you to understand that the letter was indispensable; it was the motor that set the whole machine in motion. Now, let us discuss together a scheme for the robbery of the Malaquis castle. Are you willing?” 

 “Yes, proceed.” 

 “Well, let us suppose a castle carefully closed and barricaded like that of the Baron Cahorn. Am I to abandon my scheme and renounce the treasures that I covet, upon the pretext that the castle which holds them is inaccessible?” 

 “Evidently not.” 

 “Should I make an assault upon the castle at the head of a band of adventurers as they did in ancient times?” 

 “That would be foolish.” 

 “Can I gain admittance by stealth or cunning?” 

 “Impossible.” 

 “Then there is only one way open to me. I must have the owner of the castle invite me to it.” 

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