happiness—dreams that, I felt, were not unwelcome to Miss Nelly. Her smiling eyes authorized me to make them; the softness of her voice bade me hope. 

 As we approached the American shore, the active search for the thief was apparently abandoned, and we were anxiously awaiting the supreme moment in which the mysterious enigma would be explained. Who was Arsène Lupin? Under what name, under what disguise was the famous Arsène Lupin concealing himself? And, at last, that supreme moment arrived. If I live one hundred years, I shall not forget the slightest details of it. 

 “How pale you are, Miss Nelly,” I said to my companion, as she leaned upon my arm, almost fainting. 

 “And you!” she replied, “ah! you are so changed.” 

 “Just think! this is a most exciting moment, and I am delighted to spend it with you, Miss Nelly. I hope that your memory will sometimes revert—-” 

 But she was not listening. She was nervous and excited. The gangway was placed in position, but, before we could use it, the uniformed customs officers came on board. Miss Nelly murmured: 

 “I shouldn’t be surprised to hear that Arsène Lupin escaped from the vessel during the voyage.” 

 “Perhaps he preferred death to dishonor, and plunged into the Atlantic rather than be arrested.” 

 “Oh, do not laugh,” she said. 

 Suddenly I started, and, in answer to her question, I said: 

 “Do you see that little old man standing at the bottom of the gangway?” 

 “With an umbrella and an olive-green coat?” 

 “It is Ganimard.” 

 “Ganimard?” 

 “Yes, the celebrated detective who has sworn to capture Arsène Lupin. Ah! I can understand now why we did not receive any news from this side of the Atlantic. Ganimard was here! and he always keeps his business secret.” 

 “Then you think he will arrest Arsène Lupin?” 

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