He looked round the office with alert eyes, which took in everything, and said, in a brisk, incisive voice: "I am the Duke of Charmerace. I am here on behalf of M. Gournay-Martin. Last evening he received a letter from Arsène Lupin saying he was going to break into his Paris house this very morning."
At the name of Arsène Lupin the inspector sprang from his chair, the policemen from their bench. On the instant they were wide awake, attentive, full of zeal.
"The letter, your Grace!" said the inspector briskly.
The Duke pulled off his glove, drew the letter from the breast- pocket of his under-coat, and handed it to the inspector.
The inspector glanced through it, and said. "Yes, I know the handwriting well." Then he read it carefully, and added, "Yes, yes: it's his usual letter."
"There's no time to be lost," said the Duke quickly. "I ought to have been here hours ago-hours. I had a break-down. I'm afraid I'm too late as it is."
"Come along, your Grace—come along, you," said the inspector briskly.
The four of them hurried out of the office and down the steps of the police-station. In the
