“These flaws, which astonished me on your part, are more easy to understand when we know that love was the primary motive and the object of your actions.  On the other hand, and in spite of what you say, Florence Levasseur’s conduct, her claims as the heiress, her unexpected escape from the hospital, leave little doubt in our minds as to the part which she is playing.”

Don Luis pointed to the clock: 

“Monsieur le Ministre, it is getting late.”

Valenglay burst out laughing.

“I never met any one like you!  Don Luis Perenna, I am sorry that I am not some absolute monarch.  I should make you the head of my secret police.”

“A post which the German Emperor has already offered me.”

“Oh, nonsense!”

“And I refused it.”

Valenglay laughed heartily; but the clock struck seven.  Don Luis began to grow anxious.  Valenglay sat down and, coming straight to the point, said, in a serious voice: 

“Don Luis Perenna, on the first day of your reappearance—­that is to say, at the very moment of the murders on the Boulevard Suchet—­Monsieur le Prefet de Police and I made up our minds as to your identity.  Perenna was Lupin.

“I have no doubt that you understood the reason why we did not wish to bring back to life the dead man that you were, and why we granted you a sort of protection.  Monsieur le Prefet de Police was entirely of my opinion.  The work which you were pursuing was a salutary work of justice; and your assistance was so valuable to us that we strove to spare you any sort of annoyance.  As Don Luis Perenna was fighting the good fight, we left Arsene Lupin in the background.  Unfortunately—­”

Valenglay paused again and declared: 

“Unfortunately, Monsieur le Prefet de Police last night received a denunciation, supported by detailed proofs, accusing you of being Arsene Lupin.”

“Impossible!” cried Don Luis.  “That is a statement which no one is able to prove by material evidence.  Arsene Lupin is dead.”

“If you like,” Valenglay agreed.  “But that does not show that Don Luis Perenna is alive.”

“Don Luis Perenna has a duly legalized existence, Monsieur le President.”

“Perhaps.  But it is disputed.”

“By whom?  There is only one man who would have the right; and to accuse me would be his own undoing.  I cannot believe him to be stupid enough—­”

“Stupid enough, no; but crafty enough, yes.”

“You mean Caceres, the Peruvian attache?”

“Yes.”

“But he is abroad!”

“More than that:  he is a fugitive from justice, after embezzling the funds of his legation.  But before leaving the country he signed a statement that reached us yesterday evening, declaring that he faked up a complete record for you under the name of Don Luis Perenna.  Here is your correspondence with him and here are all the papers establishing the truth of his allegations.  Any one will be convinced, on examining them, first, that you are not Don Luis Perenna, and, secondly, that you are Arsene Lupin.”