A coachman saw him, roared with laughter, then
tried to raise an outcry, but his voice was lost in the noise of
the traffic that had commenced to move again. Moreover, Arsene
Lupin was already far away.
He had run for a few steps; but, once upon the sidewalk, he turned
and looked around; he seemed to scent the wind like a person who
is uncertain which direction to take. Then, having decided, he
put his hands in his pockets, and, with the careless air of an
idle stroller, he proceeded up the boulevard. It was a warm,
bright autumn day, and the cafes were full. He took a seat on the
terrace of one of them. He ordered a bock and a package of
cigarettes. He emptied his glass slowly, smoked one cigarette and
lighted a second. Then he asked the waiter to send the proprietor
to him. When the proprietor came, Arsene spoke to him in a voice
loud enough to be heard by everyone:
"I regret to say, monsieur, I have forgotten my pocketbook.
Perhaps, on the strength of my name, you will be pleased to give
me credit for a few days. I am Arsene Lupin."
The proprietor looked at him, thinking he was joking. But Arsene
repeated:
"Lupin, prisoner at the Sante, but now a fugitive.
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