As soon as he'd left the room with my so called guest the wardrobe door popped open and a boy with a skinny face popped out He was my other great friend during that long summer His name was Arsène Lupin the famous gentleman thief But back then he hadn't yet begun his dazzling criminal career And he was hardly a gentleman considering he was only a couple of years older than I was and even younger than Sherlock Holmes Now you know the names of my friends If you've guessed that a lot happened that summer you'd be right But it's best if I start at the beginning
Chapter 2 THE ART OF ESCAPE After we arrived at our summer home Mother was busy helping the servants unpack our trunks and suitcases There was no way I was going to waste an afternoon doing that So I escaped by the small gate at the back of the garden From there I found the winding alleyways of the town the promontory and then the walls The first person I'd come across was the bookish boy I mentioned earlier I didn't know anything about him except that he was very rude and spoke English I put my hands on my hips and tilted my head slightly just like my mother did when she was trying to attract my father's attention Hello I said But Sherlock Holmes didn't seem even a little bit interested in giving me any of his attention So I tried another approach What are you reading I asked A book he said flatly And you're still on the first page I asked At least my joke annoyed him a little He stuck a finger in the book to keep his place and looked up at me his eyes blazing Have you ever heard of René
Duguay Trouin he asked No I said Ha he said Then your skills of observation are very poor Having said that he stuck his nose back into his book Normally I would have tossed some smart remark back at him but that day I didn't care to I was too happy about having the whole summer ahead of me in that beautiful seaside town to bicker with the first person I'd met I went over to the parapet and looked down A strip of white sand stretched out in a jagged line in front of me I gazed across at the little harbor the promontory and the two tiny islands that were no more than a hundred yards from the shore Only then did I notice the statue of a man on top of a pedestal just a few feet from us That's René Duguay Trouin whispered Sherlock pointing at the statue I jumped up onto the parapet and sat down to inspect the statue He was a hero of the high seas I said I could hear the waves behind me The feeling of empty space from the top of those high ramparts made me feel giddy He was a pirate Sherlock said correcting me He turned a couple of pages then continued speaking He was born here in 1673 the eighth of ten children Five of them died almost as soon as they were born
