“Florence!  Florence!” he kept repeating, in his despair.

He no longer had a doubt of her innocence.  Nor did he doubt that the other loved her and had carried her off not so much for the hostage of a coveted fortune as for a love spoil, which a man destroys if he cannot keep it.

“Florence!  Florence!”

He was suffering from an extraordinary fit of depression.  His defeat seemed irretrievable.  There was no question of hastening after Florence, of catching the murderer.  Don Luis was in prison under his own name of Arsene Lupin; and the whole problem lay in knowing how long he would remain there, for months or for years!

It was then that he fully realized what his love for Florence meant.  He perceived that it took the place in his life of his former passions, his craving for luxury, his desire for mastery, his pleasure in fighting, his ambition, his revenge.  For two months he had been struggling to win her and for nothing else.  The search after the truth and the punishment of the criminal were to him no more than means of saving Florence from the dangers that threatened her.

If Florence had to die, if it was too late to snatch her from the enemy, in that case he might as well remain in prison.  Arsene Lupin spending the rest of his days in a convict settlement was a fitting end to the spoilt life of a man who had not even been able to win the love of the only woman he had really loved.

It was a passing mood and, being totally opposed to Don Luis’s nature, finished abruptly in a state of utter confidence which no longer admitted the least particle of anxiety or doubt.  The sun had risen.  The cell gradually became filled with daylight.  And Don Luis remembered that Valenglay reached his office on the Place Beauveau at seven o’clock in the morning.

From this moment he felt absolutely calm.  Coming events presented an entirely different aspect to him, as though they had, so to speak, turned right round.  The contest seemed to him easy, the facts free from complications.  He understood as clearly as if the actions had been performed that his will could not but be obeyed.  The deputy chief must inevitably have made a faithful report to the Prefect of Police.  The Prefect of Police must inevitably that morning have transmitted Arsene Lupin’s request to Valenglay.

Valenglay would inevitably give himself the pleasure of an interview with Arsene Lupin.  Arsene Lupin would inevitably, in the course of that interview, obtain Valenglay’s consent.  These were not suppositions, but certainties; not problems awaiting solution, but problems already solved.  Starting from A and continuing along B and C, you arrive, whether you wish it or not, at D.

Don Luis began to laugh: 

“Come, come, Arsene, old chap, remember that you brought Mr. Hohenzollern all the way from his Brandenburg Marches.  Valenglay does not live as far as that, by Jove!  And, if necessary, you can put yourself out a little....  That’s it:  I’ll consent to take the first step.  I will go and call on M. de Beauveau.  M. Valenglay, it is a pleasure to see you.”