The two boats fastened to the little pier that jutted out from the garden lay rocking in its shadow. Here and there lighted windows showed through the thick mist on the margins of the lake. The Enghien Casino opposite blazed with light, though it was late in the season, the end of September. A few stars appeared through the clouds. A light breeze ruffled the surface of the water.
Arsene Lupin left the summer-house where he was smoking a cigar and, bending forward at the end of the pier:
"Growler?" he asked. "Masher?... Are you there?"
A man rose from each of the boats, and one one of them answered:
"Yes, governor."
"Get ready. I hear the car coming with Gilbert and Vaucheray."
He crossed the garden, walked round a house in process of construction, the scaffolding of which loomed overhead, and cautiously opened the door on the Avenue de Ceinture. He was not mistaken: a bright light flashed round the bend and a large, open motor-car drew up, whence sprang two men in great-coats, with the collars turned up, and caps.
It was Gilbert and Vaucheray: Gilbert, a young fellow of twenty or twenty-two, with an attractive cast of features and a supple and sinewy frame; Vaucheray, older, shorter, with grizzled hair and a pale, sickly sickly face.
"Well," asked Lupin, "did you see him, the deputy?"
"Yes, governor," said Gilbert, "we saw him take the 7.40 tram for Paris, as we knew he would."
"Then we are free to act?"
"Absolutely. The Villa Marie-Therese is ours to do as we please with."
The chauffeur had kept his seat. Lupin gave him his orders:
"Don't wait here. It might attract attention. Be back at half-past nine exactly, in time to load the car unless the whole business falls through."
Why should it fall through?" observed Gilbert.
The motor drove away; and Lupin, taking the road to the lake with his two companions, replied:
"Why? Because I didn't prepare the plan; and, and when I don't do a thing myself, I am only half-confident."
"Nonsense, governor! I've been working with you for three years now... I'm beginning to know the ropes!"
"Yes, my lad, you're beginning," said Lupin, "and that's just why I'm afraid of blunders... Here, get in with me... And you, Vaucheray, take the other boat... That's it... And now push off, boys... and make as little noise as you can."
Growler and Masher, the two oarsmen, made straight for the opposite bank, a little to the left of the casino.
They met a boat containing a couple locked in each other's arms, floating at random, and another in which a number number of people were singing at the top of their voices. And that was all.
Lupin shifted closer to his companion and said, under his breath:
"Tell me, Gilbert, did you think of this job, or was it Vaucheray's idea?"
"Upon my word, I couldn't tell you: we've both of us been discussing it for weeks."
"The thing is, I don't trust Vaucheray: he's a low ruflian when one gets to know him... I can't make out why I don't get rid of him... "
"Oh, governor!"
"Yes, yes, I mean what I say: he's a dangerous fellow, to say nothing of the fact that he has some rather serious peccadilloes on his conscience."
“You can, can and you will.”
“Indeed!”
“You can’t bluff me, Count Sylvius.” Holmes‘s eyes, as he gazed at him, contracted and lightened until they were like two menacing points of steel. “You are absolute plate-glass. I see to the very back of your mind.”
“Then, of course, you see where the diamond is!”
Holmes clapped his hands with amusement, and then pointed a derisive finger. “Then you do know. You have admitted it!”
“I admit nothing.”
“Now, Count, if you will be reasonable we can do business. If not, you will get hurt.”
Count Sylvius threw up his eyes to the ceiling. “And you talk about bluff!” said he.
Holmes looked at him thoughtfully like a master chess-player chess who meditates his crowning move. Then he threw open the table drawer and drew out a squat notebook.
“Do you know what I keep in this book?”
“No, sir, I do not!”
“You!”
“Me!”
“Yes, sir, you! You are all here — every action of your vile and dangerous life.”
“Damn you, Holmes!” cried the Count with blazing eyes. “There are limits to my patience!”
“It’s all here, Count. The real facts as to the death of old Mrs. Harold, who left you the Blymer estate, which you so rapidly gambled away.”
“You are dreaming!”
“And the complete life history of Miss Minnie Warrender.”
“Tut! You will make nothing of that!”
“Plenty more here, Count. Here is the robbery in the train de-luxe to the Riviera on February 13, 1892. Here is the forged check in the same year on the Credit Lyonnais.”
“No, you’re wrong there.”
“Then I am right on the others! Now, Count, you are a card-player. When the other fellow has all the trumps, it saves time to throw down your hand.”
“What has all this talk to do with the jewel of which you spoke?”
“Gently, Count. Restrain that eager mind! Let me get to the points in my own humdrum fashion. I have all this against you; but, above all, I have a clear case against both you and your fighting bully in the case of the Crown diamond.”
“Indeed!”
“I have the cabman who took you to Whitehall and the cabman who brought you away. I have the commissionaire who saw you near the case. I have Ikey Sanders, who refused to cut it up for you. Ikey has peached, and the game is up.”
The veins stood out on the Count’s forehead. His dark, hairy hands were clenched in a convulsion of restrained emotion. He tried to speak, but the words would not shape themselves.
“That’s the hand I play from,” said Holmes. “I put it all upon the table. But one card is missing. It’s the king of diamonds. I don’t know where the stone is.”
“You never shall know.”
“No? Now, be reasonable, Count. Consider the situation. You are going to be locked up for twenty years. So is Sam Merton. What good are you going to get out of your diamond? None in the world. But if you hand it over — well, I’ll compound a felony. We don‘t want you or Sam. We want the stone. Give that up, and so far as I am concerned you can go free so long as you behave yourself in the future. If you make another slip well, it will be the last. But this time my commission is to get the stone, not you.”