Free 813 by Maurice Leblanc

impersonated Mr. Kesselbach in order to visit the cellars of the Crédit Lyonnais.”
    “Would you be satisfied if you got him, Monsieur le Président?”
    “Would I be satisfied? Heavens alive, I should think I would!”
    “Well, give me seven days.”
    “Seven days! Why, it’s not a question of days, my dear Lenormand! It’s a question of hours!”
    “How many will you give me, Monsieur le Président?”
    Valenglay took out his watch and chuckled:
    “I will give you ten minutes, my dear Lenormand!”
    The chief took out his, and emphasizing each syllable, said calmly:
    “That is four minutes more than I want, Monsieur le Président.”
    Valenglay looked at him in amazement.
    “Four minutes more than you want? What do you mean by that?”
    “I mean, Monsieur le Président, that the ten minutes which you allow me are superfluous. I want six, and not one minute more.”
    “Oh, but look here, Lenormand … if you imagine that this is the time for joking …”
    The chief detective went to the window and beckoned to two men who were walking round the courtyard.
    Then he returned:
    “Mr. Attorney-General, would you have the kindness to sign a warrant for the arrest of Auguste Maximin Philippe Daileron, aged forty-seven? You might leave the profession open.”
    He went to the door:
    “Come in, Gourel. You, too, Dieuzy.”
    Gourel entered, accompanied by Inspector Dieuzy.
    “Have you the handcuffs, Gourel?”
    “Yes, chief.”
    M. Lenormand went up to Valenglay:
    “Monsieur le Président, everything is ready. But I entreat you most urgently to forego this arrest. It upsets all my plans; it may render them abortive; and, for the sake of what, after all, is a very trifling satisfaction, it exposes us to the risk of jeopardizing the whole business.”
    “M. Lenormand, let me remark that you have only eighty seconds left.”
    The chief suppressed a gesture of annoyance, strode across the room and, leaning on his stick, sat down angrily, as though he had decided not to speak. Then, suddenly making up his mind:
    “Monsieur le Président, the first person who enters this room will be the man whose arrest you asked for … against my wish, as I insist on pointing out to you.”
    “Fifteen seconds, Lenormand!”
    “Gourel … Dieuzy … the first person, do you understand? … Mr. Attorney, have you signed the warrant?”
    “Ten seconds, Lenormand!”
    “Monsieur le Président, would you be so good as to ring the bell?”
    Valenglay rang.
    The messenger appeared in the doorway and waited.
    Valenglay turned to the chief:
    “Well, Lenormand, he’s waiting for your orders. Whom is he to show in?”
    “No one.”
    “But the rogue whose arrest you promised us? The six minutes are more than past.”
    “Yes, but the rogue is here!”
    “Here? I don’t understand. No one has entered the room!”
    “I beg your pardon.”
    “Oh, I say … Look here, Lenormand, you’re making fun of us. I tell you again that no one has entered the room.”
    “There were six of us in this room, Monsieur le Président; there are seven now. Consequently, some one has entered the room.”
    Valenglay started:
    “Eh! But this is madness! … What! You mean to say …”
    The two detectives had slipped between the messenger and the door. M. Lenormand walked up to the messenger, clapped his hand on his shoulder and, in a loud voice:
    “In the name of the law, Auguste Maximin Philippe Daileron, chief messenger at the Ministry of the Interior, I arrest you.”
    Valenglay burst out laughing.
    “Oh, what a joke! What a joke! That infernal Lenormand! Of all the first-rate notions! Well done, Lenormand! It’s long since I enjoyed so good a laugh.”
    M. Lenormand turned to the attorney-general:
    “Mr. Attorney, you won’t forget to fill in Master Daileron’s profession on the warrant, will you? Chief messenger at the Ministry of the Interior.”
    “Oh, good! … Oh, capital! … Chief messenger at the Ministry of the Interior!” spluttered