Don Luis made an angry gesture.

“That blackguard of a Caceres is a mere tool,” he snarled.  “The other man’s behind him, has paid him, and is controlling his actions.  It’s the scoundrel himself; I recognize his touch.  He has once more tried to get rid of me at the decisive moment.”

“I am quite willing to believe it,” said the Prime Minister.  “But as all these documents, according to the letter that came with them, are only photographs, and as, if you are not arrested this morning, the originals are to be handed to a leading Paris newspaper to-night, we are obliged to take note of the accusation.”

“But, Monsieur le President,” exclaimed Don Luis, “as Caceres is abroad and as the scoundrel who bought the papers of him was also obliged to take to flight before he was able to execute his threats, there is no fear now that the documents will be handed to the press.”

“How do we know?  The enemy must have taken his precautions.  He may have accomplices.”

“He has none.”

“How do we know?”

Don Luis looked at Valenglay and said: 

“What is it that you really wish to say, Monsieur le President?”

“I will tell you.  Although pressure was brought to bear upon us by Caceres’s threats, Monsieur le Prefet de Police, anxious to see all possible light shed on the plot played by Florence Levasseur, did not interfere with your last night’s expedition.  As that expedition led to nothing, he determined, at any rate, to profit by the fact that Don Luis had placed himself at our disposal and to arrest Arsene Lupin.

“If we now let him go the documents will certainly be published; and you can see the absurd and ridiculous position in which that will place us in the eyes of the public.  Well, at this very moment, you ask for the release of Arsene Lupin, a release which would be illegal, uncalled for, and inexcusable.  I am obliged, therefore, to refuse it, and I do refuse it.”

He ceased; and then, after a few seconds, he added: 

“Unless—­”

“Unless?” asked Don Luis.

“Unless—­and this is what I wanted to say—­unless you offer me in exchange something so extraordinary and so tremendous that I could consent to risk the annoyance which the absurd release of Arsene Lupin would bring down upon my head.”

“But, Monsieur le President, surely, if I bring you the real criminal, the murderer of—­”

“I don’t need your assistance for that.”

“And if I give you my word of honour, Monsieur le President, to return the moment my task is done and give myself up?”

Valenglay struck the table with his fist and, raising his voice, addressed Don Luis with a certain genial familiarity: 

“Come, Arsene Lupin,” he said, “play the game!  If you really want to have your way, pay for it!  Hang it all, remember that after all this business, and especially after the incidents of last night, you and Florence Levasseur will be to the public what you already are:  the responsible actors in the tragedy; nay, more, the real and only criminals.  And it is now, when Florence Levasseur has taken to her heels, that you come and ask me for your liberty!  Very well, but damn it, set a price to it and don’t haggle with me!”