He was foaming with rage, all the more as, in his innermost heart, he
recognized the strength of his new enemy and could not deny the masterly
fashion in which he had managed this business. Daubrecq's coolness,
the assurance with which he hoaxed the police-officials, the contempt
with which he lent himself to their visits at his house and, above all,
his wonderful self-possession, his easy bearing and the impertinence of
his conduct in the presence of the ninth person who was spying on him:
all this denoted a man of character, a strong man, with a well-balanced
mind, lucid, bold, sure of himself and of the cards in his hand.

But what were those cards? What game was he playing? Who held the
stakes? And how did the players stand on either side? Lupin could not
tell. Knowing nothing, he flung himself headlong into the thick of the
fray, between adversaries desperately involved, though he himself was in
total ignorance of their positions, their weapons, their resources and
their secret plans. For, when all was said, he could not admit that the
object of all those efforts was to obtain possession of a crystal
stopper!

One thing alone pleased him: Daubrecq had not penetrated his disguise.
Daubrecq believed him to be in the employ of the police. Neither
Daubrecq nor the police, therefore, suspected the intrusion of a third
thief in the business. This was his one and only trump, a trump that
gave him a liberty of action to which he attached the greatest importance.

Without further delay, he opened the letter which Daubrecq had handed
him for the secretary-general of police. It contained these few lines:

"Within reach of your hand, my dear Prasville, within reach of your
hand! You touched it! A little more and the trick was done... But