The teeth of the tiger!  Everybody had clung stubbornly to an apparently invincible argument.  As the marks on the apple and the print of Mme. Fauville’s teeth were identical, and as no two persons in the world were able, in theory or practice, to produce the same print with their teeth, Mme. Fauville must needs be guilty.

Nay, more, the argument seemed so absolute that, from the day on which Mme. Fauville’s innocence became known, the problem had remained unsolved, while no one seemed capable of conceiving the one paltry idea:  that it was possible to obtain the print of a tooth in another way than by a live bite of that same tooth!

“It’s like the egg of Columbus,” said Valenglay, laughing.  “It had to be thought of.”

“You are right, Monsieur le President.  People don’t think of those things.  Here is another instance:  may I remind you that during the period when Arsene Lupin was known at the same time as M. Lenormand and as Prince Paul Sernine, no one noticed that the name Paul Sernine was merely an anagram of Arsene Lupin?  Well, it’s just the same to-day:  Luis Perenna also is an anagram of Arsene Lupin.  The two names are composed of the same eleven letters, neither more nor less.  And yet, although it was the second time, nobody thought of making that little comparison.  The egg of Columbus again!  It had to be thought of!”

Valenglay was a little surprised at the revelation.  It seemed as if that devil of a man had sworn to puzzle him up to the last moment and to bewilder him by the most unexpected sensational news.  And how well this last detail depicted the fellow, a queer mixture of dignity and impudence, of mischief and simplicity, of smiling chaff and disconcerting charm, a sort of hero who, while conquering kingdoms by most incredible adventures, amused himself by mixing up the letters on his name so as to catch the public napping!

The interview was nearly at an end.  Valenglay said to Perenna: 

“Monsieur, you have done wonders in this business and ended by keeping your word and handing over the criminal.  I also will keep my word.  You are free.”

“I thank you, Monsieur le President.  But what about Sergeant Mazeroux?”

“He will be released this morning.  Monsieur le Prefet de Police has arranged matters so that the public do not know of the arrest of either of you.  You are Don Luis Perenna.  There is no reason why you should not remain Don Luis Perenna.”

“And Florence Levasseur, Monsieur le President?”

“Let her go before the examining magistrate of her own accord.  He is bound to discharge her.  Once free and acquitted of any charge or even suspicion, she will certainly be recognized as Cosmo Mornington’s legal heiress and will receive the hundred millions.”

“She will not keep it, Monsieur le President.”

“How do you mean?”

“Florence Levasseur doesn’t want the money.  It has been the cause of unspeakably awful crimes.  She hates the very thought of it.”