The Confessions of Arsène Lupin by Maurice Leblanc (love story novels in english TXT) 📕

walked with a sprightly step, looking at the pale December sun and amusing herself by breaking the little dead twigs on the shrubs along the road.

She had gone nearly two thirds of the distance that separated her from Lupin when there came a furious sound of barking and a huge dog, a colossal Danish boarhound, sprang from a neighbouring kennel and stood erect at the end of the chain by which it was fastened.

The girl moved a little to one side, without paying further attention to what was doubtless a daily incident. The dog grew angrier than ever, standing on its legs and dragging at its collar, at the risk of strangling itself.

Thirty or forty steps farther, yielding probably to an impulse of impatience, the girl turned round and made a gesture with her hand. The great Dane gave a start of rage, retreated to the back of its kennel and rushed out again, this time unfettered. The girl uttered a cry of mad terror. The dog was covering the space between them, trailing its broken chain behind it.

She began to run, to run with all her might, and screamed out desperately for help. But the dog came up with her in a few bounds.

She fell, at once exhausted, giving herself up for lost. The animal was already upon her, almost touching her.

At that exact moment a shot rang out. The dog turned a complete somersault, recovered its feet, tore the ground and then lay down, giving a number of hoarse, breathless howls, which ended in a dull moan and an indistinct gurgling. And that was all.

“Dead,” said Lupin, who had hastened up at once, prepared, if necessary, to fire his revolver a second time.

The girl had risen and stood pale, still staggering. She looked in great surprise at this man whom she did not know and who had saved her life; and she whispered:

“Thank you.⁠ ⁠… I have had a great fright.⁠ ⁠… You were in the nick of time.⁠ ⁠… I thank you, monsieur.”

Lupin took off his hat:

“Allow me to introduce myself, mademoiselle.⁠ ⁠… My name is Paul Daubreuil.⁠ ⁠… But before entering into any explanations, I must ask for one moment.⁠ ⁠…”

He stooped over the dog’s dead body and examined the chain at the part where the brute’s effort had snapped it:

“That’s it,” he said, between his teeth. “It’s just as I suspected. By Jupiter, things are moving rapidly!⁠ ⁠… I ought to have come earlier.”

Returning to the girl’s side, he said to her, speaking very quickly:

“Mademoiselle, we have not a minute to lose. My presence in these grounds is quite irregular. I do not wish to be surprised here; and this for reasons that concern yourself alone. Do you think that the report can have been heard at the house?”

The girl seemed already to have recovered from her emotion; and she replied, with a calmness that revealed all her pluck:

“I don’t think so.”

“Is your father in the house today?”

“My father is ill and has been in bed for months. Besides, his room looks out on the other front.”

“And the servants?”

“Their quarters and the kitchen are also on the other side. No one ever comes to this part. I walk here myself, but nobody else does.”

“It is probable, therefore, that I have not been seen either, especially as the trees hide us?”

“It is most probable.”

“Then I can speak to you freely?”

“Certainly, but I don’t understand.⁠ ⁠…”

“You will, presently. Permit me to be brief. The point is this: four days ago, Mlle. Jeanne Darcieux.⁠ ⁠…”

“That is my name,” she said, smiling.

“Mlle. Jeanne Darcieux,” continued Lupin, “wrote a letter to one of her friends, called Marceline, who lives at Versailles.⁠ ⁠…”

“How do you know all that?” asked the girl, in astonishment. “I tore up the letter before I had finished it.”

“And you flung the pieces on the edge of the road that runs from the house to Vendôme.”

“That’s true.⁠ ⁠… I had gone out walking.⁠ ⁠…”

“The pieces were picked up and they came into my hands next day.”

“Then⁠ ⁠… you must have read them,” said Jeanne Darcieux, betraying a certain annoyance by her manner.

“Yes, I committed that indiscretion; and I do not regret it, because I can save you.”

“Save me? From what?”

“From death.”

Lupin spoke this little sentence in a very distinct voice. The girl gave a shudder. Then she said:

“I am not threatened with death.”

“Yes, you are, mademoiselle. At the end of October, you were reading on a bench on the terrace where you were accustomed to sit at the same hour every day, when a block of stone fell from the cornice above your head and you were within a few inches of being crushed.”

“An accident.⁠ ⁠…”

“One fine evening in November, you were walking in the kitchen-garden, by moonlight. A shot was fired. The bullet whizzed past your ear.”

“At least, I thought so.”

“Lastly, less than a week ago, the little wooden bridge that crosses the river in the park, two yards from the waterfall, gave way while you were on it. You were just able, by a miracle, to catch hold of the root of a tree.”

Jeanne Darcieux tried to smile.

“Very well. But, as I wrote to Marceline, these are only a series of coincidences, of accidents.⁠ ⁠…”

“No, mademoiselle, no. One accident of this sort is allowable.⁠ ⁠… So are two⁠ ⁠… and even then!⁠ ⁠… But we have no right to suppose that the chapter of accidents, repeating the same act three times in such different and extraordinary circumstances, is a mere amusing coincidence. That is why I thought that I might presume to come to your assistance. And, as my intervention can be of no use unless it remains secret, I did not hesitate to make my way in here⁠ ⁠… without walking through the gate. I came in the nick of time, as you said. Your enemy was attacking you once more.”

“What!⁠ ⁠… Do you think?⁠ ⁠… No, it is impossible.⁠ ⁠… I refuse to believe.⁠ ⁠…”

Lupin picked up the chain and, showing it to her:

“Look at the last link. There is no question but that it has been filed. Otherwise, so powerful a chain as this would never have