Memoirs of Arsène Lupin quotes

“An uncommonly vulgar one.”

“Yes; it’s hardly a brilliant name, is it? And the best thing to do was to change it, don’t you think?”

Clarice appeared overwhelmed. It made no difference what his name was—to her. But in the eyes of the Baron the particle “de” was the very first qualification of a son-in-law.

Ralph d’Andresy will be a general, or a minister, or an ambassador. … Always supposing that he does not remain Arsène Lupin. It is an affair settled before the throne of Destiny, agreed on, signed by both parties. I am quite ready.

Muscles of steel and a number one brain!

Come, would you like me to walk on my hands, or carry you about at arms’ length? Or would you prefer that I took your watch without your perceiving it, or shall I recite by heart Homer in Greek and Milton in English?

“Hang it all! I wouldn’t give up this box on the first tier for an Empire,” he murmured.

“What hot stuff they are! They talk about murdering as other people talk about putting on a clean collar.”

Above all Godfrey d’Etigues astonished him. How could the gentle Clarice be the daughter of this gloomy soul? What end was he trying to compass? What were the dark motives on which he was acting? Hate, greed, the lust for revenge, the instinct of cruelty?

And the Prince of Arcola uttered these incredible words:

“She is no older than she was two and twenty years ago!”

The woman was sitting, and sitting quite upright, her clenched fists resting on her knees.

“That proves that the same woman retains in 1892 her face of 1816 and of 1870.”

“Then to the stake with her!” she cried and laughed a silvery, rippling laugh.

“Do not laugh, Madam. You know that between you and us a laugh is an abominable blasphemy!” cried the Baron sternly.

“

Hate is making you lose your wits, Beaumagnan.

Your fanatical soul is in a wild revolt against the sin of love. However, in spite of that, I suppose you’ll allow me to defend myself?”

She learned that it was neither the one nor the other, for a voice which she did not know murmured:

“You can stop being frightened. It’s a friend who has come to rescue you.”

This friend bent over her and without even knowing whether she heard or not, continued: “You have never seen me … my name is Ralph … Ralph d’Andresy.

“I’m feeling very ill,” she murmured. “I’m utterly worn out.”

“I can tell you what to do,” he said quickly. “Lose consciousness. Nothing is so restful as to lose consciousness.”

She seemed to follow his advice, for after a little moan or two, she began to breathe quietly and regularly. He covered her up with the rug and fell to rowing again.

He strolled round the park, made a tour of the mansion, hunting through the cellars with especial care, without discovering anything of a nature to solve the problem, the data of which he did not know.

It is all very well to seek but it is necessary to know what you are seeking.

At half-past eleven he had arrived at no result of any kind; and the necessity of doing something was impressing itself on his mind more and more strongly. Every delay gave the others greater and greater chances;

He quivered and murmured: “Oh, your eyes rest on me! You do not turn them away! You’re not angry with me then? You allow me to tell you of my love?”

“Suppose I bid you get out?” she said, opening the door.

“And if I were to call the coachman to my aid?”

“And if I got out myself?”

“I should continue the declaration of my love along the road.”

“You have an answer for everything,” she said. “Stay where you are; but no more nonsense! Tell me what happened to you and why those men were pursuing you.”

“Yes,” he said slowly. “Yes. You’re right. But it’s terrible to think that everything is at an end between us before even I have had the time to hope … and that you will forget me.”

“One does not forget a person who has saved one’s life twice.”

“No: but you will forget that I love you.”

and every time the operation finished in bursts of laughter. Success provoked in him veritable fits of hilarity.

“Since I’ve turned my back on the path of virtue, I may just as well take it lightly as not, and certainly not in the funereal way in which you do, Josine,”

he said airily.

He hammered his right fist into his left palm.

“Get that clear, Josine! I will not murder! Rob? Yes. Burgle? Yes. But murder? No! A thousand times no!”

“I don’t wish to murder, either,” she protested.

“It’s a slander!” Beaumagnan almost shouted. “You are trying to make us believe that an impossible intimacy existed between you and her. One may bring many accusations against Josephine Balsamo perhaps: accusations of coquetry, trickery but not this one—not of an act of debauchery.”

“Love is not an act of debauchery,” said Ralph calmly.

“What do you mean? Love! Josephine Balsamo loved you?”

“You are an enemy then?”

“No, monsieur, a competitor.”

“No: an enemy,” Beaumagnan insisted. “And as such liable—”

He stopped short. It was a stupid waste of words. Then, passing suddenly from the height of fury to a quiet resignation, he lay down on a bed in an alcove which was fitted up as a dressing-room.

“You can kill me if you like,” he said. “But don’t stop me going to sleep.”

Really he never dreamed of going to sleep. The first thing was to consider his situation quietly and draw from it conclusions which promised to be uncommonly disagreeable. In fact, they could be summed up in a few words.

Had he, indeed, really felt any rancor and revulsion? Everything was drowned in an immense need to clasp her in his arms.

Enemy? Thief? Criminal if you like. But, after all, only a woman⁠—above all, woman. And what a woman!

Dressed, as usual, in a simple frock, she was wearing that delicate veil which softened the luster of her hair and gave her so close a resemblance to the Virgin of Bernardino Luini. Her neck, of a warm creaminess, was bare.

He was silent for a moment; then he declared sententiously:

“Josine, the monks of the middle ages were duffers.”

He looked round on the three of them and added: “Goodness, yes; pious personages, but, I repeat it at the risk of shaking your faith, duffers! Just consider:

“The vengeance of Josephine Balsamo,” said Ralph somberly.

“Even dead, she is formidable,” said Ralph gravely.

“And that’s why I am here. There is at the bottom of the park a small keeper’s lodge. I’m going to install myself in it—till our marriage. Inform Clarice that I am here and tell her to allow no one to visit her—not even me.

She murmured:

“Love is a madness.”

“I can’t give it up. I love him.”

“Yes,” Ralph went on. “

At the bottom of our hearts, from the very first day, we have been ferocious enemies.

Neither of us thought of anything but the defeat of the other. Especially you! I was the rival and intruder. In your brain my image was mixed with the idea of death. Voluntarily or not, you condemned me.”