Original subtitles

- I first saw the light of day

through the iron bars of a prison

in a small town some 50 miles from Paris.

When the prison matron, who was also the prison midwife,

filled in my birth certificate,

she caused what may be regarded as the one blot

on my family escutcheon,

and as a result I never knew my father's name.

In my zeal to correct this omission,

I was to borrow many names for many occasions,

until I hit upon the one that France will long remember.

Eugene Francois Vidocq.

Like most great mean, I came of a poor but honest family,

a little poorer than honest.

The difference accounted for my being born in prison.

Whenever poor Mama expected another baby,

and consequently needed shelter,

it was her custom to steal a loaf of bread and go to prison.

She had stolen 11 loaves, served 11 sentences,

and had 11 children when to her misfortunes

were added a twelfth loaf, a twelfth sentence,

and my humble self.

When poor Mama went to a better world,

leaving me to make the best of this one,

what is more natural than that I should often return

to the happy scene of my earliest childhood?

And so after many years, again I find myself

among those dear familiar sights and smells,

spending another birthday at home.

My monastic seclusion was devoted to

a study of the classics, particularly one

from which I acquired my style,

not only in literature but in my brilliant career

of love and crime.

My modest apartment was shared by a sympathetic

companion into whose company the authorities

had happily thrown me.

He was a cutpurse whose knife could rip a pocket

most profitably, 'til one day his knife

had gone a little deeper and Emile was sent to jail

a little longer than usual.

He may have had his faults, but his care for my wardrobe

and for me was truly touching.

He never woke me before ten.

- Happy birthday!

- Happy birthday!

- Jailor's daughter.

- Oh.

Well, tell her that I'm not at home.

- All right.

- My father does...

- Shh, he's still asleep.

- My father doesn't know I'm here,

but a sweet old lady came all the way from Paris

to bring this birthday gift, and I thought...

- That's from my Aunt Ernestine.

Thank you.

Thank you, Jeanette.

Present from my Aunt Ernestine to you.

Such a good woman.

She, she knows how bad the food is in jail.

- She ought to, she spent the best years

of her life in them.

- Oh, no, no.

She didn't, you're mixing my Aunt Ernestine

with my Uncle Hugo.

He got 15 years.

- Oh yes, for lifting watches.

- Oh, you get everything wrong.

That's my cousin Pierre, he's the pickpocket of our family.

How often have I told you?

Now look, my Uncle Hugo...

- He is the burglar.

- Right.

- Right.

- And what a burglar.

His case was in all the papers.

- Oh, sure.

- He robbed the palace of the Duke d'Orleans.

- Let's get on with Aunt Ernestine's cake.

- Oh, yes, the cake.

- I'm sure she lifted it from the best pastry shop in Paris.

- Oh, Aunt Ernestine only deals with the best shops.

And you know, Uncle Hugo says it's always cheaper

to steal in the most expensive places.

Here.

Oh, wait, wait.

It's your birthday, make a wish.

- Made.

My wish!

A file!

How very thoughtful of Aunt Ernestine.

And it works, too.

We must remember to thank her when we get to Paris.

- There, see?

The town of Neuilly, and Saint George's Church.

Only a few more hours to Paris.

- Emile was that grimmest of characters,

an early morning optimist.

All through the rainy night he had added to my misery

with his unfailing cheerfulness and family stories

while we'd been running, dodging, jumping fences,

soaked to the skins we were trying to save.

At last, it was the porch of the kindly church of St. George

that offered us shelter from the rain, and from the police.

You've got two legs and I've got two legs,

but together they don't add up to the four legs of a horse.

- A horse?

No, they don't.

- At last, the rain had stopped.

Timidly, the sun came out and the little town

awakened to its sleepy day.

On the church steps the pigeons were cooing

and fluttering about, but we snored on.

'Til our dreams were disturbed by the sound of voices.

- Father, did you ever see such a

contrast between two faces?

- Such innocence on one.

Such evil on the other.

Monsieur, would you object to making a little money?

- Money?

- If I could only catch that soulless animal look,

oh, what a dragon!

And there, the very image of a saint.

Your face, my dear monsieur, expresses the essence

of that purity for which Saint George lived,

fought, and conquered.

What the wind and weather of 400 years have obliterated

could only have been restored by the faith to will it,

the art to execute it, and Providence's gift of models

to pose for it.

Ah, please don't move, Monsieur Dragon.

Ease your paw a little lower,

and if you could just recapture that avid expression.

The one you had when I offered you the money.

- Oh yes!

How about the money?

- That's good, that's good.

Now look up.

Thank you.

What a wonderfully horrible thing.

- Master, I congratulate you.

Saint George is divine.

The dragon will excite horror in every prior's heart.

But your horse... what a horse.

It's even better than your saint.

A horse to the life.

A horse that could take you to Nievre,

to Lyon, to Marseille.

It could even be sold.

What are you waiting for?

- Please don't move, Monsieur!

But Monsieur!

But Monsieur, my horse!

Monsieur!

I'm not finished!

My horse!

- Meet my family.

This is my Aunt Ernestine.

- Enchanted, Mademoiselle.

Your cake, and especially its filling, were a revelation.

- A revelation, Auntie.

- And this must be Uncle Hugo, the head of the family.

- Sorry that you find me in my foot bath,

but I caught rheumatism from being out late at night.

- Oh, may I suggest that you add a spoonful of mustard

to the water?

- Eh?

- Mustard.

My mother used to suffer from the same occupational disease,

and mustard never failed her.

- Mustard.

- Uncle is stubborn.

Uncle won't wear a shawl when he goes stealing.

- Hush!

What language.

- Our little Louis.

Only 12 years old, but such busy fingers.

And this is Cousin Pierre.

- Honored.

- And this is Gabriel, the artist of our family.

- Honored, Monsieur.

- Charmed.

Only this morning we had a most gratifying encounter

with an artist.

- My dear monsieur, my dear nephew.

I, that is, the family council,

have debated your difficult and delicate situation,

and what should be done about it.

I, uh, that is, the family, have decided

you must leave Paris this very night.

- Leave home?

Tonight?

- Your family is convinced that for both of you,

the safest place is in the army.

- Army?

Safe?

- You will join General Bonaparte's glorious troops

at Marseilles, where they are assembling now

for the campaign in, um...

Where is it?

- Egypt.

- Oh, yes, Egypt.

Just think, Emile.

You will be able to fulfill the dream of my life,

to see the pyramids.

- The pyramids.

- How wonderful, Emile.

- Hand me the documents.

All night long, our dear Gabriel has bent over

his printing press in the cellar to make these

for you, Monsieur, and for you, my dear nephew.

- But, Uncle.

Suppose we are shot before we get to the pyramids.

- Don't be morbid, Emile.

The rank of First Lieutenant of the Artillery is

hereby bestowed upon the honorable Eugene Francois Rousseu.

Rousseu?

- Your new name.

- Oh, I see.

Signed Napoleon Bonaparte,

in the general's own unmistakable handwriting.

Monsieur Gabriel, a masterpiece.

- Nothing, nothing.

At least compared to my last issue of the Bank of France.

- Monsieur, I bow to your art.

At Marseilles, our stolen uniforms and counterfeit passports

had been accepted without question.

But a soldier's uniform is hardly complete

without a lovely lady leaning on his sleeve.

Emile and I still needed that one sentimental accessory

and were looking for it.

- Gentlemen, gentlemen, come inside and see Loretta,

the beautiful shadow on the Mediterranean screen,

enticing, alluring, elusive, provocative,

and two francs only.

- Two francs for Loretta?

Have we got that much?

- Two francs?

- Ahh, come in gentlemen, come in!

♪ They call me Sweet Loretta

♪ Although I set your heart aflame

♪ You'll find when you know me better

♪ I play a calculating game

♪ Some girls go for handsome young gendarmes,

♪ But I'm saving my charms for better than a corporal

♪ Some girls go for slightly bigger game,

♪ But I'm saving my flames for better than a captain

♪ I've got a flame that's too hot to handle

♪ There's no one who can hold a candle

♪ To the dame who's the flame and the scandal of Paris

♪ Some girls go for flowers and romance

♪ I'm not taking a chance

♪ My flame is for a general

♪ To arms, to men of fire

♪ We'll play a sentimental game

♪ Take out your pipe and your brier

♪ Tonight I'll light them with my flame ♪

- No need for my flame, Lieutenant?

♪ There's never been anyone who's met her

♪ Who could kiss her and then forget her

♪ There's no cure for a more much better

♪ Than Loretta

♪ Some girls go for flowers and romance

♪ I'm not taking a chance

♪ My flame is for a general

♪ I like your curly hair, Monsieur

♪ You have that certain flare, Monsieur

♪ We'd make a lovely pair, Monsieur, but

♪ My flame is for a

♪ General ♪

Come in.

Ohhh, it's you, Lieutenant.

- Lieutenant Rousseau, at your service.

- Have you changed your mind?

- Mademoiselle, I just came to tell you

that your beauty is overshadowed only by your talent.

You should be in the Paris opera,

in the Imperial Theater of Vienna.

- I should be in Tortoni's restaurant right now.

I'm late for a supper engagement.

- Mademoiselle, you are a charming realist.

- And you.

You're an idealist, of course.

- Of course.

- Ah-ha.

You don't look like one.

- Well, what does an idealist look like?

- Oh, very noble, innocent, very, very shy.

- Enough, Mademoiselle.

I confess that I'm not one.

- No, no more, I told you I'm expected at Tortoni's.

- By a captain or a colonel?

- Oh, higher than that.

The chief of police.

- Richet?

Who's he trying to catch here?

- A shadow.

Would you pass me my garter?

- Oh, I see.

So that's the way the chief of police

tries to catch a shadow.

May I, Mademoiselle?

It appears that your knight of the garter

has excellent taste.

- Beautiful rubies, aren't they.

- I was referring to Mademoiselle's beautiful leg.

- Oh.

- May I escort you?

- Oh, no, no, I...

- Just to the door at Tortoni's.

Then I promise to vanish.

- You promise?

- Promise.

Emile, a cab.

- Oh, Tortoni's.

I must hurry.

- Emile, I've got it.

The garter.

Move on, make for the harbor, quick!

- My dear, I've been waiting for you for the past half...

- Oh!

My garter!

- What?

What about my, er, your garter?

- He stole it, I mean...

- Who stole it?

- The gentleman who brought me here in a cab.

- What's this?

You were with a gentleman, alone, in a cab?

Is it possible that a gentleman

could steal a respectable woman's garter without...

- Yes!

No.

I mean, he must have taken it off

while he was putting it on.

- What!

How can you take it off when you put...

You mean to say he put it on?

- Oh, I don't know.

On, off, it's gone.

- Please, please.

Mademoiselle.

You must not look upon me as

the grateful friend who gave you the garter,

but as the detective who will help you recover it.

But first, the facts.

Please be precise.

- What facts haven't I given you?

- For instance, his name.

- His name, oh.

It might be Rousseu.

Or Drousseau.

Or it could be Trousseu.

- Oh, well, the criminals change their name

oftener than their shirts.

But the appearance is important.

Could it be that he's the same person about whom

we've had similar complaints during the past week?

The young, dashing, Casanova-like type?

- Oh no, no, he was old, bald,

not attractive at all.

- Yes, pray be seated.

Mademoiselle, don't despair.

I have never yet failed to find what I'm, ahem,

been looking for.

- Then I may leave everything in your hands.

- Precisely.

- After we had left the army,

we decided that we might risk a return to Paris.

Paris, capital of the world,

and the El Dorado of every knight of fortune.

- Look there, again!

The church of St. George.

Only a few hours to Paris.

- My dear dragon, this time we'd better make a detour.

- Oh.

- You piggish fool, you'll never catch him that way!

Drive him over Baron Novier's grave.

Oh, don't go around it, jump it!

Oh Lord, what a monstrous coward, afraid of a monkey.

I hope he bites you.

- Look at that old Christmas tree parading around

with diamonds big as tombstones.

If we could only get our hands on it...

- It isn't done, Emile, to put such thoughts into words.

Rather let us pay our respects to those who rest in peace.

- Oh, a fig for your fears.

Praise Heaven, Satan has bitten you.

- What is the trouble, Madame?

- Oh, Satan is there, Satan.

Between the Bishop's tombstone and the grave of Madame de...

Oh, I've forgotten what, that, that grain-dealer's daughter.

- Where's Satan?

I trust he's not after the Bishop's soul?

- Well, I trust you'll catch my little imp,

if your legs are as quick as your wits, Monsieur.

- Well, Madame, your lackey has legs,

the gentleman can only offer his wits.

- What cheek!

Now what a gallant charmer.

My rogue of a monkey is downright mesmerized.

Look how his eyes follow the sparkle.

- I've got you, Satan.

- Bravissimo, bravissimo!

Come, my little one.

He ran away while I was putting lilacs on the count's grave.

You see, I became sentimental,

and my little devil is frightened of tears.

My fortunate stars, Monsieur, that you happened by

to look in on some departed friend, or relative, perhaps?

- Well, uh...

- No, no, no, don't tell me, I'll guess.

You see, all of them here were my friends,

or pretended to be.

- Eh, Monsieur de Claremont had just such a forehead,

but no, he had nothing behind it.

Could it be the count?

- Not, uh, not quite a count, but just a baron.

- Baron?

Ah!

Baron Francois Vidocq, blood to be sure.

Your lips, your chin, the same malicious dart in the eye.

Even the same naughty...

But it is not good to speak of the dead in their presence.

It would be safer to nibble at his reputation

over a cup of chocolate?

- Charmed.

- Good, I'll expect you this afternoon.

Any child can direct you to the chateau

of the Marquise de Pierremont.

- Enchanted, Madame le Marquise.

Emile!

- You're going to let that hag go

wearing half a jewelry shop?

- Wait until this afternoon.

- Why?

- We'll get the whole shop.

- It's worth waiting for.

But, uh, let's not wait here.

- Why not?

What could be more restful?

Find yourself a grave, Emile.

And a name, too, while you're at it.

- I was half down the steps before

I realized you weren't along.

I might've known you were looking at that picture again.

- I'm in love with it.

- He is handsome.

Much handsomer than the other saints.

I admit that much.

- Mimi!

One doesn't look a saint because he's handsome,

but because he's a saint.

- Then why don't you look at other saints?

Here's St. Joseph, for instance.

I'll tell you why not.

Because he's a carpenter instead of a knight,

and he's not handsome.

- Oh, Mimi.

What have I done to deserve such a horrible little sister?

Now let's go home.

- Home?

- Yes.

- Oh, whenever you look at that picture

you forget everything.

Have you forgotten our beautiful secret little plans

to go... good morning, Father.

- Good morning, Father.

- Good morning, Mimi.

And good morning, Therese.

- Come on.

- Therese, is it really true, what your sister said?

- Of course not!

- Are you really in love?

- Therese, tell us who he is!

- Yes, who is it?

- Mimi, you're a Chatterbox.

- I didn't tell with whom.

I wouldn't have told anything,

but Odette says you think too much of yourself

to fall in love.

Ever.

- Then it is true!

- Perhaps.

- Who is the man?

- There is no man.

- Oh, how can you be in love with nobody?

- Why not?

Love has existed long before we did.

- Oh, you're just trying to be mysterious.

- I still say she thinks no man on earth

is good enough for her.

That's why you're always running off to church.

You want to become a bride of Heaven.

- Yes.

Sometimes I think I'd like to be a nun.

- A nun?

I wouldn't want to hide my shoulders under a cowl.

- I must go home now.

Therese, Elaine, would you help me lace my bodice?

- Come out, it's time to dress.

- Therese, Mimi, aren't you ever coming?

A snake!

A snake!

- A snake?

- Where?

- What do we do?

- I nearly touched it!

It tried to bite me, it was this long!

No, it was that long!

- Where is it?

- It was under my shirt.

- Coward.

- It's poisonous!

- Let's go, Tilly, I'm not afraid.

- Not of a snake?

- Not of anything!

- Look, men!

- Where?

- There!

- He killed the monster.

- Monster?

It was a snake, but no monster.

What's wrong with you?

- What did you say?

- You look as if you've seen a vision.

- But when he raised his arm to strike,

it was the same gesture, same face.

- You're beginning to see him everywhere.

- One thing more.

Monsieur Vidocq will stay overnight.

Have his bags brought in and his man unpack them.

That will be all.

- Very well, Madame.

- Heavens, we're late for the chocolate!

Grandmama will be furious.

Where's Grandmama?

- With a guest, Mademoiselle.

- A guest?

- I wonder who it is.

- Mimi, stop, Mimi!

- Therese.

- What is it?

- He's in there with Grandmama.

- Who?

- Saint George.

- Saint...

- George.

- Oh!

- I'm beginning to see him, too.

Papa.

- Therese.

Peeping through keyholes?

At your age?

- Oh, I'm so happy to see you.

So happy.

- It's only a week that you haven't seen me,

and yet I'd no idea Papa's little girl loved Papa so much.

Better change now, children, change for dinner.

Papa is hungry.

Is your grandmother in there?

- Yes.

- Wait.

Grandmother's introducing them.

- And this is Monsieur Loudon, husband of my late daughter.

Otherwise distinguished by being minister of the police.

- Oh, police?

Oh, enchanted, Monsieur.

Madame le Marquise, I regret I must

wrench myself from your presence and retire to my room.

- Oh, pray do.

- He's coming out.

Quick, hide!

Quick!

- Your fan, Mademoiselle.

Forgive me for intruding upon your reverie.

Oh, there you are.

Show me to my room, please.

When they told me to unpack,

I knew you'd wrangled a stay over.

Instead of having to break in, we are in.

- Yes, very in, in the house with the minister of police.

- Minister of what?

- Police.

Will you help me off with my boots?

Boots!

While I'm at dinner, get the layout of the house.

I don't care how you get it, but get it.

- Well, how?

- From a chambermaid.

- Oh.

- Just find out where the old woman sleeps

and where she keeps her jewelry.

- Oh.

- In case we have to pry open the lock,

see that your knife has a sharp point.

- Mm-hmm.

A sharp blade in case the old woman doesn't sleep well.

- My dear Emile, I hope you're not suggesting violence.

- Why not?

Are you beginning to go moral?

- This isn't a question of moral.

It's a bit of manners.

A man who's capable of killing with a knife

is quite liable to eat with one.

- Madame le Marquise,

to your health and a very long life.

- Lark, the girls are late again.

- Madame, the young ladies ask to be excused.

They have a headache.

Both of them.

- Both of them?

- Your Excellency.

- Oh, yes, show him in.

It's Richet, my chief of police.

- Your Excellency, a matter of the utmost importance

has arisen, which...

Madame.

A thousand apologies for intruding on you at dinner,

but I had real...

- Not at all.

Won't you join us?

Sit down.

- Thank you, Your Excellency.

You are very kind indeed.

The Villeneuve stagecoach was robbed last night.

- What the...

And the thief, have you caught him?

- Oh, not yet, Your Excellency.

But he's within my grasp.

- Your Excellency, if you don't mind, I, uh...

- Oh, don't go, Monsieur.

Nothing you can't hear.

- Your Excellency, Villeneuve is

the final proof of my theory.

Again the criminal is described as young, dashing,

Casanova-like...

- But in all the other cases, there was a woman.

- Your Excellency, in the coach there were six.

I shall prove my theory.

Here we are, near Paris.

And this is Marseilles, thank you.

Marseilles, where the criminal,

disguised as a young lieutenant of artillery,

committed a crime that was, uh, rather delicate

and somewhat personal, Madame.

And next, Nice, where he had the audacity

to impersonate Lord Byron.

- A monstrous rogue, this criminal!

I'd like to meet him.

- And now, the trail of his subsequent moves.

First, Abbeville last month, Bonne last week,

Villaneuve last night, and next...

- Paris.

- Precisely.

- Richet.

You'd better put a guard around the Bank of Paris.

- And you'd better put a guard around the banker's wife.

- He is a widower.

- How unfortunate.

- I've planted my men on all roads to Paris.

The criminal will be walking into my web.

- Lark, I hope he walks into my parlor

before he walks into your web.

- At the moment, Madame, he could hardly walk into one

without walking into the other.

- And I assure you, Madame,

that's the very last thing he'd do.

- I disagree with you, Monsieur.

In crime, as in love, there are only those who do,

and those who don't dare.

- Well, I don't suppose there's much doing

around here after dark.

That is, uh, for a neat little trick like you.

- Not while the old Marquise is around,

to see lights out by ten.

- Ten?

Then we have to shut up by ten, too?

- Oh, no.

Marquise is over on that side.

- That side?

- Uh-huh.

And the guest room is on...

- Yes, I know, I know, guest room on that side.

Well, my knife is getting a little dull.

You got a sharpener?

- Sharpener?

There.

- Open the window a bit.

Fresh air is bad for the health,

but it's stifling hot tonight.

How that Monsieur Vidocq reminds me of his great-uncle.

A pox on you, Satan, I will not have

your devilish fingers mixing my jewels!

Here's the key, put them away.

It's already past ten, past our bedtime.

It's only heat lightning.

Why, little one!

Don't be frightened.

It won't storm, I'll watch them.

- Your key, Madame.

- Snuff the candle.

Oh, no, no no no.

- And if it doesn't storm tonight

it'll certainly storm in the morning.

If Grandmama finds we haven't been in bed...

- Mimi, you insisted on coming.

Have you forgotten how important it is?

We must make sure!

- Oh, Therese!

Suppose...

Suppose someone sees us!

Oh, Therese, come!

- We weren't mistaken.

The same face.

- Put them in Madame's wig.

Satan!

- What is it?

Who's there?

Oh, it's only Satan.

- Leave the door open.

- Therese!

The door's wide open!

We left it closed!

- It must be one of the maids.

Come.

- We'll hide them in there, and come back later,

when the roads are not being watched.

- It's the wig, the wig.

The door is closed!

We left it open.

- Your knife.

It's bolted.

Must be one of the maids.

- We are locked out.

- You wait here, I'll let you in.

- One of my choicest roses,

for one of the choicest little flowers in my parish.

- Thank you, Father.

- Shall we walk today?

When two people walk, each can speak as if to himself,

and still be heard by the other.

- Last night, I...

It was so hot.

I slept badly.

But I dreamt a man came into my room.

I only dreamt it.

He bent over my bed and kissed me.

Is it a sin, such a dream, Father?

- Hardly, fair child.

Dreams come unbidden, like the man into your room.

Did you recognize him?

- Oh, yes, I know his face so well.

I worshiped it ever since

I saw it for the first time in this church.

It seems to express everything that's pure and valiant.

As he raises his arm to strike the dragon.

- Saint George?

- Yes, Father.

Is it a sin to be in love with the face of a saint?

- Not exactly.

Not if your love is directed toward the saint in Heaven,

rather than to the painted wall which embodies him on earth.

- Oh, I know, Father, if a man can have such a face,

he really must be like Saint George.

- Therese.

Perhaps I should tell you.

The man who posed for Saint George was far from infallible.

- Posed?

- Yes, some two years ago, when...

- Two!

You mean 200 years ago.

- My child, I am not referring to the original,

which is even older than that.

But time and weather had damaged the faces

of Saint George and the dragon.

And an artist was hired to restore them.

In all innocence, he chose for his models two passersby

in whose faces he saw, or fancies he saw,

the extremes of evil and good.

- Oh, Father, now I understand everything.

- Not quite, I'm afraid.

I've never talked about this except with the bishop.

But those two passersby were far from being worthy men.

As it turned out, they'd escaped from prison.

- Prison?

- Yes, criminals.

They even stole the horse they posed on.

They rode off with the armor, the halo, and everything.

And nobody knows what's become of them since.

- Criminals!

Both of them?

- Yes, Saint George, too.

I mean the man who posed for him.

Of course, one never knows.

And who are we to pass judgment on a life

before the proof gets last out?

- Father.

- Yes?

- If a man's face is good, can his heart be evil?

- My child.

In all of us, there is a Saint George and a dragon.

That is the true meaning of the legend of Saint George.

Evil can be slain only by faith.

We must have faith.

- Wonderful.

What an uproar!

You are missing the best part.

The big Richet, searching the house.

He's taking his sleuth everywhere,

and everybody weeping and quarreling and carrying on.

I've never enjoyed anything so much.

I just can't bear it.

- My dear Emile, we always have enough strength

to bear the misfortunes of others.

- You know, even Uncle Hugo never pulled over a job

with the whole police force in the house.

- Come in.

- Monsieur.

This terrible robbery, no doubt you've heard?

- Yes.

- Yes, well, um, Richet, my chief of police,

insists on searching all the rooms.

I hope you don't mind.

- Oh, but it is your house, Monsieur.

- Thank you.

Richet.

- Aha.

- Emile, help Monsieur Richet.

- I don't require any help.

- He don't require any help.

- Oh, Therese, where have you been all morning?

- What is it?

- You've missed everything.

We've been having the most wonderful time.

Grandmama's jewels, her wig,

the poor thing can't leave her room without it.

- What are you talking about?

- We've been robbed!

Isn't it exciting?

- Robbed?

- They've been searching all the rooms.

Saint George's, too.

- Saint George!

- When I heard that I was ready to swoon,

but Grandmama says I mustn't.

I'm not old enough.

- Monsieur Richet!

Did you catch the robber?

- Mademoiselle, I am no longer in an official position

to answer any questions concerning the case.

Your father has seen fit to discharge me.

- Discharge!

- Where did I leave my umbrella?

Forgive me for being so upset.

I thought I'd left it in the hall here somewhere.

Yes, discharged.

Whatever will my wife say to that?

She's a young, beautiful woman, and I...

I am not a rich man.

Your father has done me a grave injustice.

Of course, I know His Excellency needed a scapegoat,

and since I didn't recover the jewels, I...

But there's one thing I know.

The robbery was committed from inside.

- What?

- The thief is in the house.

- Mr. Richet, I found it, I found it!

- Oh, my umbrella.

Thank you.

Thank you.

At least I found that, I mean, you found it.

My wife gave it to me for our second anniversary.

She's so young, so beautiful.

But I told you that before.

Mademoiselle, I assure you the day will come

when your father will agree with me that I had...

- Bad luck.

- Yes, that's right.

Never open an umbrella before you go out.

Now, don't forget that.

Now, what was I saying?

- That the thief was in the house.

- Yes, precisely.

Mademoiselle, I...

- Monsieur, your hat.

- Thank you, I forgot.

- The dragon!

- Here is your flower, Mademoiselle.

Nice little girl.

The big one.

- The third time.

- What?

Third time?

- That I've seen her and she hasn't said a word.

Remarkable for one of her sex.

I'm afraid a fourth time,

and I'm liable to fall in love with her.

- Fall in love!

Lay off, that's how they collared my cousin Pierre.

He went out for one night and

didn't get home for 15 years.

- Don't worry, I'm well aware.

Love and crime make incompatible bedfellows.

The most perfect criminal can be traced and caught

if he leaves his heart behind him as a clue.

Only the heartless succeed in crime, as in love.

- I can hardly wait to get back to Paris.

Imagine, with the chief of police out of the way, why...

It will be a thieves' holiday!

Oh, the rats will play while the cat's away.

- I'm afraid the cat won't be away for long.

- What do you mean?

- His Excellency will find a new cat.

- Who?

- Probably whoever saves him from ridicule

by recovering the jewels.

- Oh, who could do that?

- Yes.

Indeed.

Only one man.

- Who?

- The man who's sitting in front of you.

- The whole house is upside down.

I love it.

And now, up pops the dragon.

What next?

- If I only knew what to do.

Whether to tell Papa...

Of course, I should tell him.

- That Monsieur Vidocq is Saint George?

Papa won't even listen.

He's interested only in getting back his jewels.

- Yes.

And that would take a miracle.

But the priest said we must have faith.

- No, to gamble with jewels worth 50,000 francs!

Even on the thieves' market.

No.

Not with my half.

- My dear Emile, try to see further

than the point of your knife.

If I become chief of police,

we'll have a chance to loot a city.

- Loot a city?

What does that mean?

- Conservatively, 15 million.

- 15?

- Million, in gold.

- Where is it?

- In the vault of the Bank of Paris.

- Bank of Paris.

Such a big job, no, too big for the two of us.

- Yes, but we can enlist the support of your dear family.

- Yes.

Family.

Yes, but we would have to give them a cut.

- A small percentage.

- No, not percentage.

Just the cut.

- All right, then it's agreed.

- Yes, but I still don't see, if you return the loot,

how can you be sure you will make the chief of police?

- Don't be a fool.

I won't return it until I am sure.

- Monsieur, it was a pleasure.

Pity it's all been so dreadful.

- The pleasure's been entirely mine.

Emile, saddle our horses.

I trust Your Excellency will soon recover the jewels?

- If it were only the jewels.

But the dignity of my office!

Tomorrow, I shall be the laughingstock of the whole country.

- Your Excellency has already gone a long way toward

solving the case by dismissing Monsieur Richet

and his theories.

- What?

Oh, yes, yes.

In emergencies I can be absolutely ruthless.

But how to find his successor, in this emergency?

- It shouldn't be difficult to do better

than Monsieur Richet.

Even I can tell you where he made his blunder.

- You can?

- The robbery wasn't committed from inside your house,

but from the outside.

- Outside?

- Such an audacious crime could never have been conceived

in the submissive soul of a servant,

and everyone else in your house was above suspicion.

- Naturally.

Very good observation, there.

- Well, I confess that the art of detection

has long excited my interest.

I am what you might call a, uh, a connoisseur of crime.

Of course, I can't promise anything,

but if you'd like to accompany me around the house,

we might find the clue to prove my theory.

- The clue!

- Ah, what have we here?

Your Excellency, observe this interesting strand of ivy.

- Hm, what, what's interesting about it?

- It's broken.

- So it is.

However did you notice that?

- The merest matter of trained observation,

indispensable to a detective.

- Oh, remarkable.

- Your Excellency, we have our first clue.

- Really?

- I should say the housebreaker has been acquainted

with long stretches of hard labor,

stands approximately six feet tall,

and weighs no less than 200 pounds.

- In Heaven's name, how can you tell?

- Elementary, my dear Loudon.

No less weight would have been sufficient

to break that age-toughened ivy.

Now, the distance above the ground to the first break

stipulates a leg span of at least such height.

And only the most extraordinary development

of the flexor and extensor muscles of the upper arms,

such as is commonly acquired in hard labor,

would have been equal to that last daring climb

from where the trail of the ivy ends to the balcony

by which the midnight intruder entered your home.

- Remarkable.

- Doubtless there were windows left open,

it was a sultry night.

Good morning, Mademoiselle Therese.

- Hm?

Oh, you know my daughter?

- Good morning, Monsieur!

Therese, say something.

- The fourth time.

- Hm?

- That I've seen her and she hasn't said a word.

Your Excellency is to be congratulated.

The robber left untouched your most priceless possession.

- What?

- Now let's see where he went after he left the house.

- Yes, let's see.

Down the garden path and out of the gate?

- Not so hasty.

He wouldn't have chosen the path.

- Why not?

- It was loose gravel, a man of his weight

would have sounded like a cavalry charge.

- Yes, that's very true.

- I should rather say that he made his soundless exit

across the lawn, through those bushes.

- You really think so?

- I have a shrewd suspicion.

Ahh, we are fortunate indeed.

Another clue.

A lock of white hair.

- A sheep must have blundered by here.

- The blunder would be ours if we thought so.

Do your sheep normally resort to cosmetics?

- Hm?

- These hairs have been powdered and perfumed.

I'd say that they belong to the wig of, um...

- My mother-in-law!

- Precisely.

- Monsieur Vidocq, you're a genius.

- Thank you.

I shouldn't be surprised if the jewels are hidden

not far from this spot.

- Here?

- Well, it stands to reason that

since the police were covering all the roads,

the criminal plans to return for his loot

after the hew and cry has died down.

And now, Your Excellency, I must be on my way to Paris.

- Oh, no, no, please, not yet!

- I trust that my clues will be sufficient

for your future chief of police to solve the case.

Good day.

- Wait, I'm not going to deliver myself

to the hands of another Richet.

No more theories for me.

I need a man who can give me results,

a practical man, like, like you.

- Your Excellency, I hope you're not thinking

of making me your chief of police.

- Hm?

Why not?

- Oh, well.

- My dear boy, you should devote your talents

to the good of society.

- Odd.

- Why odd?

- Very odd.

- Hm?

- Please, Your Excellency, observe these lilies.

Phenomenal.

They enjoy alike the same sun and water,

and all of them thrive except one,

which is strangely wilted,

as if its roots had recently been disturbed.

Ah, yes.

Just as I thought.

In the annals of crime, I predict this will be called

The Case of the Wilted Lily, for unless I am mistaken,

this lily is at the bottom of it all.

Or rather, I should say,

your jewels are at the bottom of the lily.

- I swear they're all here.

Every stone and spangle.

Not a sparkler missing.

Thank Heaven, and you, Monsieur Vidocq.

- Fortunately I could return them this time.

However, I may not be able to

if they should be stolen again.

- Again?

What do you advise?

- I would feel quite sure of them if they were

in the vault at the Bank of Paris.

Which reminds me that I must be

getting along to Paris myself.

Madame.

Monsieur.

Mademoiselle?

- Therese.

Have you heard?

- Yes.

- Isn't it a miracle?

- Yes.

I'm so happy, Grandmama.

I'm so happy.

- That was sound advice, Mother,

about putting your jewels in the bank.

- Yes, I daresay.

After all, there are few occasions left

for an old woman to parade around in her sparklers.

- Oh, Grandmama.

- Loudon, I hope you knew how to thank this Monsieur Vidocq.

- My dear mother, I made him my chief of police.

- Brilliant!

There's the man for you.

And maybe there is also the man for you, eh?

- The fates were knitting busily.

Take Aunt Ernestine, for example.

She who once helped me to get out of jail is now

in jail herself, unaware that kindness is always rewarded.

- Come on, sweetheart.

Monsieur Vidocq wants to look at your pretty face.

- Keep your dirty jokes to yourself.

What did you say?

- Vidocq, the new chief of police.

Come on, precious, let's go now.

- De Vernet, female.

- No.

I can't believe it.

- Believe it, and be seated, Mademoiselle.

- You, chief of police?

I can't believe it.

- Thanks to you, I once managed to escape from prison.

Now I am in the fortunate position of

being able to return your former kindness.

You are free.

- Free?

I still can't believe it.

- Furthermore, I have a job for you.

- A job?

- I have a job for you to do in the Bank of Paris.

- In the bank?

- Monsieur.

- Take my card to the manager.

- Our new chief of police.

Excuse me, please, I'm going to see him myself.

Monsieur, I'm delighted.

- This is Lieutenant Emile Vernet, my right hand-man.

Very experienced in the ways of the underworld.

- Delighted, Lieutenant.

- I came to inquire whether you were satisfied

with the individuals I had recommended.

- Satisfied?

I'm delighted with them.

For example, the man who works as teller.

- Ah, Monsieur Gabriel.

Delighted to see you.

- He has a microscopic eye.

He spots counterfeit bills on sight.

Already this morning he's spotted five of them.

He hasn't let a single counterfeit

slip by him into the vault.

- We're glad to hear it.

- His Excellency and I thought it was a wise measure

to plant only our very finest detectives

as employees in the bank.

- Wonderful, Monsieur.

And here comes our night watchman, reporting for work.

Earlier than ever.

- Ah, Monsieur Hugo.

- Good afternoon, Monsieur Vidocq.

Good afternoon, Lieutenant, good afternoon.

- I couldn't be more delighted if

we had a ghost for night watchman.

He haunts the bank.

And that female detective!

She takes her disguise so seriously.

She cleans and scrubs all day.

Only this morning she polished the lock of the vault

'til it shone like a dazzling star.

- Good afternoon, Mademoiselle Ernestine.

- Good afternoon, Monsieur Vidocq.

- Lieutenant, you dropped something.

- The impression of the lock?

- In full, it's wax.

- I'm delighted with her.

But most marvelous of all is

the man you sent to guard the vault.

- Ah, Monsieur Pierre.

He specializes in the field of grand larceny.

- A human ferret.

He can sniff danger.

Even when I go into the vault his nose is just behind me.

I wager he could smell if one franc were missing.

- How many francs are in there?

- Oh, offhand, I'd say about 40 or 50 million.

- 40, 50 million?

- So everything's under control?

- No harm can come to us with little Louis to guard us.

Quick as a magpie, always running.

Now run off!

By the way, is the little boy a detective too?

- Just an apprentice.

- Wonderful, wonderful.

You've made us feel very safe indeed.

- Thank you for your confidence.

Good day.

- 50 million.

Ah, 50 million.

Deduct for family, divide...

I, I never could divide.

- Your share is 22 million.

- 22 million!

Oh, I'm rich.

I'm rich, I'm so rich I could spit gold.

- Did you get the wax impression?

- I can buy anything.

A castle, city.

I can buy the pyramids.

Buy them, why, I can build them,

and have every stone of gold.

- I must say, Aunt Ernestine did a good job.

Try back at Cousin Michelle's and

have her make the key as fast as possible.

I'll walk back to the office.

- As fast as possible.

- I shall proceed to tell what happened

in the meanwhile to Loretta, who was a beautiful shadow

on a candlelit screen.

Little did I know that she had given up her public

for a private life.

She had married for richer then poorer,

for better, then worse, 'til death do them part,

the substantial Monsieur Richet.

- Loretta?

Loretta, my love.

- What is it?

- I've been thinking.

Don't you know about...

- What?

I know, about that garter.

Again.

- The case of the garter.

After all, my sweet, you are married to a detective.

- I'm married to a jealous fool.

- Oh, I protest, my love.

I'm interested in the garter, that is,

in the man who stole it,

from a purely professional point of view.

But that tiny garter may be the means of

recovering everything I've lost.

My post as chief of police, my entire career,

for if I apprehend that thief, His Excellency

would certainly admit that I was right all along.

And believe me, he will bow to my theory.

- Theories!

At this time of night.

- If my theory is right, he is precisely the same man

who's committed a whole chain of felonies,

and yet all the other victims describe him as

young, dashing, Casanova-like.

The type that women lose their heads over.

Aren't you listening, my angel?

Could it be that your description of him

was not quite precise?

As you may recall, you said that he was old, bald,

unattractive, eh?

- Precisely.

- Well, then.

Old or young, bald or not, I still don't understand

how a man could steal a woman's garter without,

I mean, without, uh...

- All right, have it your way.

It wasn't without, it was with.

- With what?

- With love and kisses.

Yours truly, Loretta.

- Aha!

What did you say?

Love and...

- And I, little was I aware how soon

the shadow of my past was to fall across my way.

It was the next morning, in front of a little hat shop.

- Oh, my hat!

Oh, stop him, stop him!

My new hat!

My beautiful hat.

- Yes, it's really dreadful about your hat.

How can I ever repay you for

captivating Mademoiselle Loretta?

- That shouldn't be hard for the taking,

Lieutenant Rousseau, with the money he got from my garter.

- Wasn't much.

The rubies weren't as good as you thought.

- And you were much worse than I could have imagined.

Really, I, I should call the police.

- Don't call them until I've bought you another hat.

- Another...

Another hat?

Well I, I admit I am not so rich

that I can afford to throw them in the gutter.

Hats don't grow on trees, you know.

- I know, but some of the latest fashions

look as if they did.

Oh my dear, you'd look simply irresistible in that one.

And trimmed with violets.

- Oh, do you really think I'd look well in violets?

I, I rather fancy that big Florentine straw.

- Then it's yours.

- Isn't it beautiful?

- It looks made for you.

- I'll take this one.

Monsieur will pay for it.

- Delighted.

How much?

A mere 80 francs.

- Ah, that's not too much for a beautiful hat, is it?

- You look positively ravishing in it.

- Thank you, Monsieur.

- It's large enough to cover a multitude of sins.

Charming sins.

Thank you.

- Madame still owes for the other hat.

- Oh, yes.

The one you made me drop.

- Delighted.

How much?

- It's...

- Oh, that's only 35 francs.

- Thank you, Monsieur.

There is still the matter of your unpaid bill

for the past three months, Madame.

- Oh.

- 420 francs, Monsieur.

- Delighted.

Just a visiting card.

Madame.

- Thank you, Monsieur.

- I hope you will come soon again, with Monsieur.

- May I see you to a cab?

- You may see me home in it.

- Cab?

- I must say, you commit your crimes a la mode.

- Rather like old times, isn't it?

- Except I'm married.

- Oh, I'm so happy.

- Unhappily.

- What?

- Married.

- I'm so sorry.

- Oh, it's all right.

All the more reason we should meet again.

- I see.

Sometimes the chains of matrimony are so heavy

that they have to be carried by three.

- Do you speak from experience?

Or from observation?

- Observation.

It has saved me from the experience.

- Please.

Listen, seriously.

For the past two years I've not been able to put

a certain Lieutenant Rousseau out of my mind.

I believe I'm in love with him.

- In that case, Madame, you are in love with a man

who no longer exists.

He's as dead as the past.

- I disagree, Monsieur.

The past is very much alive.

As alive as I am.

I... I hate...

Really hate bringing up the delicate matter

of the garter again, but...

I happen to know the minister of police

has offered a reward for...

- Oh, for those paltry rubies?

- Oh, no.

No, nothing so trifling.

For the man who's committed a whole chain

of similar crimes during the last two years.

- Are you planning to collect the reward?

- Oh, let's not talk about money.

It's friendship I need, Lieutenant.

Why, I, I almost forgot.

The lieutenant is dead.

Just to be sure we don't lose track of each other again,

I'd better know your name.

Your present one.

- I've had so many names, I'm afraid I

don't remember the most recent one.

- Perhaps you'll refresh your memory by

consulting the visiting card in your wallet.

- Dear lady, after our visit to the hat shop,

my wallet is empty.

- Is that all we mean to each other?

An empty wallet?

Oh, oh, home already.

- Well, goodbye.

- Such a cold goodbye for an old flame.

See, last time we parted, you were,

you weren't so easily satisfied.

- Goodbye.

- Thank you, Monsieur.

Hope there's nothing missing this time.

Eugene Francois Vidocq.

- Vidocq!

You promised to come back in an hour.

It's over two hours.

- I am late only because you refused me money for a cab.

And I had to walk.

- My darling, until I'm working again,

it's only fair to make a few sacrifices.

What!

You bought another hat?

- What other pleasure do I have except hats?

Isn't it beautiful?

- You've bought enough hats!

Look, look!

Three, six, 12, 20!

You could open up a hat shop yourself!

- I don't have any more hats than you have silly disguises.

Look!

Three, six, 12, 20 wigs,

and at least a dozen of these silly beards!

- But you don't understand!

They're the tools of a detective's trade.

- You are not a detective any more.

- That's beside the point!

Once before, I told you...

- I know, dear.

That's why the gentleman paid for it.

- Paid?

For what?

- My hat.

- A gentleman?

Who?

- Believe it or not, he didn't give his name.

On my honor.

- On your what?

- Honor!

- Once before, you were off with a strange man

who didn't give his name.

- It's not the same man.

- Aha!

You deny it.

Then it is true.

He's here, in Paris, you're seeing him again.

He steals your garter, you take his hat,

the whole thing is perfectly obvious!

How can a woman stoop so low!

- Oh!

You're like the horse!

My beautiful Florentine straw!

Let go!

- You, you Cleopatra!

You Messalina!

- Oh, the second hat today!

Oh, this is too much!

- I'll catch this criminal who steals garters,

and wives, even though I have been discharged,

I'll prove I can still be more useful than this,

this Monsieur Vidocq!

- Vidocq?

- Yes, the chief of police, my successor.

- Your successor?

- What's so funny about that?

- Your successor!

- Carry the one to make ten...

Oh, it's you.

- What are you doing in the office at this late hour?

- I'm figuring.

- Still building your pyramid?

- Look.

I've found a way to keep from dividing any with my family.

Here, first we cut out Aunt Ernestine.

She isn't entitled to a penny

while last week we saved her from jail,

that's enough, she'll be grateful.

Next, we cut out Uncle Hugo too.

- Are you counting on your paper or your knife

to cut his percentage?

- What does it matter?

We're in business.

- Nothing matters now except to move quickly,

or your pyramid will go up in smoke.

Do you remember the lady of the garter?

- You've seen her?

Is she in Paris?

- Yes.

Our past is catching up with us.

We'll have to crack the vault tomorrow, no later.

- Yes, yes, tomorrow, everything is ready.

- And the key?

- Made.

- Then pass the word to your family.

Tomorrow night none of us will sleep,

so you'd better sleep now.

Goodnight, and golden dreams.

- Surprised?

- Women always surprise us by doing the expected.

I suppose you've come to return my wallet.

- Oh, that.

Here it is, Monsieur Vidocq.

- Thank you.

- Where did you ever dig up that name?

- In a cemetery.

- For once I believe you.

Don't worry, your elegant visiting cards are all there.

- But apparently not my money.

- Oh, I forgot, I had to keep it in order to buy a new hat.

- Another hat?

- The last one went the way of the first.

- You mean a horse stepped on it?

- My husband.

Your predecessor.

- My predecessor?

- Yes.

I, I mean of course, in this chair.

- Madame, you please to be mysterious.

- Oh, I am no mystery.

I am Madame Richet.

- Madame...

- Richet.

At least no one can reproach me for not being faithful

to the police force.

- Does he suspect?

- A detective is always suspicious.

He suspects me of having worn my garter a little loosely.

But he doesn't know yet that I lost it

to a certain Monsieur Vidocq.

- There's no fool so dangerous as a fool with brains.

- Except a woman so foolish as to fall in love.

Time has made you even more intriguing.

- Madame, I...

- Surely you are considerate enough to realize

no woman could ever forget you, or give you up.

- Of course, but this is hardly the moment or the place.

- Then meet me at the hat shop this evening.

- This evening?

- At six.

Au revoir, Monsieur.

- Good morning, Monsieur.

- Madame le Marquise, this is an unexpected pleasure.

- We're just on our way to see my son-in-law,

Monsieur Loudon, and thought we'd freshen our acquaintance

by smiling in at you.

Therese, Mimi, you know Monsieur Vidocq.

- Yes, we do.

- Your voice is as lovely as you are, Mademoiselle Therese.

What fortunate chance brings you up from the country?

- My jewels, Monsieur.

I'm taking your sound advice to

put them in the Bank of Paris.

- I have some rather important business there myself.

May I escort you?

- Well, then you can do me a real favor

by taking the girls in my place.

Meanwhile, I'll acquaint your father with our arrival,

and...

- But Grandmama, you could do both, if...

- Ifs and ands you'll make pots and pans,

do as you're told, girl!

And keep a sharp eye on my sparklers.

Monsieur, I trust you with my most valuable possessions.

Well, I'll be off.

No, no, no, don't trouble.

I know my way.

- Madame.

We start immediately.

Emile, order my carriage.

I'm going to deposit these young ladies

and their jewels at the bank.

- Yes, jewels at the bank.

The Chief pulled a smart trick.

Now when we pry into the vault, we'll get all the gold,

and a heap of jewels for good measure.

Everything's ready?

- I've got enough wine-barrels

to roll out 100 million francs.

- 10 o'clock tonight.

- May I?

- If you don't mind, I'd like to

take this to the vault myself.

- As you wish, Mademoiselle.

Please, this way.

Thanks to Monsieur Vidocq, the Bank of Paris

is the safest place in the world.

And now if you will permit,

we'll put your strongbox under lock and key.

- Therese, hurry.

- Hey, psst, come here!

You would depend on the wagons?

- My dear nephew, you know the driver is my sweetheart.

- 10 o'clock tonight.

Is the part ready?

- Soon as we are.

- It's no joke.

- May I escort you home, Mademoiselle Therese?

- But Therese, you promised!

- But, Mimi...

- You gave me your word the next time we came into Paris

you'd take me to the Chinese carousel.

All week I've been planning to ride the big goldfish.

Or should I treat the Pekingese?

- Well...

If Mr. Vidocq doesn't mind,

perhaps we could stop at the carousel.

- It would be a pleasure, Mademoiselle Mimi.

- Thank you very much, Monsieur Vidocq.

Come on, Therese, let's hurry.

- Do you have a key?

I won't need you any more until ten tonight.

- What time do we meet?

- Ten.

- Ten.

- Shall we walk?

I haven't told your father yet,

but tomorrow I shall be saying goodbye to Paris.

- Goodbye?

- I'm afraid so.

As you know, I only became chief of police

to help your father out of a temporary difficulty.

- Oh, but Papa needs you, Monsieur.

He needs you more than ever now.

And Grandmama, she'll miss you,

and Mimi will miss you, and...

- And you?

- I shall miss you, too.

I shall miss you very much.

- You are very generous, Mademoiselle.

But I shall have to appear ungrateful.

There are important matters that will

take me away from France.

- Is the dragon going with you?

- Dragon?

- Yes.

Well, your lieutenant.

- Oh, Emile, yes.

- He is?

- Why do you call him the dragon?

- Because...

Every time I see his evil face,

I think of the painting in our little church.

The painting of Saint George and the dragon.

- What are you talking about?

- Let's not pretend.

I know everything.

How you rode off with the armor of Saint George,

and the lance, and even the halo.

- Merciful heavens!

However did you learn that?

- I guessed it, from what the priest told me.

But don't worry, your secret is safe with me.

I didn't even tell Papa when you

borrowed Grandmama's jewels.

- Borrowed?

So you know that, too?

- Yes, but...

The one thing I really want to know, Monsieur, I don't know.

- Well, perhaps I can help you.

- Oh, if you only would!

You see...

Some nights ago, I dreamt a man came into my room,

and kissed me.

- Oh, really?

I trust it was a pleasant dream.

- Very pleasant, but...

- Well, what more do you want to know?

- If it was just a dream, or...

- Or?

- Or you.

- Ah, now I understand your problem.

Well, let's examine the facts.

I take it that the intruder was

too expert to leave any clues.

- None.

- Except for the kiss, of course.

- Oh yes.

Of course.

- You should be able to tell from another kiss

whether I am the man of your dreams.

Was it like this?

- No.

This is different from anything I ever dreamt.

- My dear Therese, I am afraid we will have to wake up.

- Why?

- Unfortunately there's the matter of my past,

which has just reappeared in the shape of a lovely lady.

- A lady you love?

- Not the lady I love.

- Then nothing stands in our way.

- Only she and some others

may not be too pleased to learn about dreams.

And your father, instead of signing our marriage contract,

would have to sign a warrant for my arrest.

That's why I have to leave Paris tomorrow.

- I understand.

- I have no choice.

- Neither have I.

I'm going with you.

If I can't be respectable, I'll be bad.

I could help you.

I'd have made a much better lieutenant

than the clumsy man you have with you now.

I could sneak in and out of rooms like a cat,

I could be very useful, I could...

I could make men fall in love with me.

- Good heavens, why should you?

- Between kisses, you know I could steal their wallets.

- Steal?

- Yes!

You don't believe me?

I have started already, here.

Grandmama's jewels.

I took them out of her strongbox and nobody even noticed it.

- Why, that's wonderful!

- Yes.

- I mean...

Disgraceful.

- Why?

I stole them for you.

- Thank you.

But you don't expect me to marry a thief.

- What can I do?

If you won't come over to my side,

I'll have to go over to yours.

- Darling, I promise you whichever side you're on,

we'll be there together.

- You promise?

- On one condition.

- What?

- That you return these jewels immediately.

- Why should I?

They're not Grandmama's, they're mine.

- What?

- I've just made it up.

- You...

You little hypocrite.

- Therese!

- Yes?

- Therese, come and ride!

You'll love it!

- Would you like to?

- Yes.

Which shall we take, the griffon or the goldfish?

- Are these the biggest you have?

- And the most expensive, Madame.

But I don't suppose there's any need to discuss the price

until your gentleman acquaintance arrives.

No.

Show me some others.

- Yes, Madame.

- Until he comes.

- Ah, Madame, how do you like this one?

Isn't it a stunning hat?

Even your husband will adore it.

- Ah, my husband is so suspicious.

So jealous.

- What does that matter, if Monsieur likes the hat?

- You are very lovely, Therese.

- Am I as lovely as the other lady?

- In her eyes I see myself as I am.

But in yours, I see myself as I could be.

As I hope to be.

- Oh, 7 o'clock.

I shall make Monsieur pay for being so late.

- Ah, Madame, it's worth your waiting!

Just come upstairs and I'll show you what I mean.

Don't worry, your gentleman acquaintance

will see the lights and find the door unlatched.

You'll see, it's modeled on a top hat

worn by Beau Brummell 'til a certain countess

appeared in it to prove to the world

that Mr. Brummell was her beau.

- Looking for somebody?

- Eh, no.

Eh, yes.

A lady's in there.

- A lady?

You're a little old for something like that.

Come on, this isn't a peep show.

- A citizen has some rights!

- So pay taxes, and pay the police!

Come on!

- I protest!

I have a right to be here!

- So you've a right.

I'll give you a right.

And that was a left, I'll give you both sides.

- In the face of illogical brutality, I withdraw.

- And don't you come back, you peeping tom!

- Mmmm.

- It's the absolute rage in London.

It's just the thing for your Roman profile.

- Well, I, I love the hat.

But do you think the dress is, um, revealing enough?

- Well, this blouse is a little shy,

but I have another that's more than just revealing.

It's a revelation.

- Oh!

- Will you excuse me while I fetch it from the stockroom.

You can be trying this on.

- Oh, oh, the hat is a dream.

- Oh, it's the last word!

- Looking back on the phantasmagoria of my life,

I've often wondered what would have happened

had I been in time for my appointment with the past.

Of course, Richet was only a fool,

but a fool is always dangerous.

And above all, a jealous fool who had set his trap

to catch a shadow.

- Is that you, sweetie?

You're late.

I'm afraid I'll have to run

or else my husband will be asking questions.

Who are you?

- It's me, me!

Your husband!

- You!

What do you mean, trying to frighten me

with one of your silly disguises!

Is the great detective trying to be funny, or...

Or have you really taken up peddling?

Hm, not a bad idea.

Perhaps you'd like me to accompany you on the streets

with a harp doing "Throw me a penny, I am sick,

and my husband's a lunatic."

- So.

You're expecting your, your sweetie.

And who is he?

That scoundrel of a Casanova?

That same criminal who stole your garter,

and now is stealing you from me?

But I won't tolerate it!

I won't!

Quiet, quiet!

- Darling, you're not frightening me,

but you are frightening those poor little birds.

And now, excuse me.

I'm tired.

Of you.

- Loretta, Loretta!

You can't do this to me!

I, I love you!

I'd rather put an end to myself!

- And to my misery.

- It would suit you to get me out of the way.

- Precisely.

- Loretta, I've got to have you, I'm serious!

I'm going to shoot myself, I'm going to shoot him,

this thief, I'm going to shoot...

- Loretta?

Loretta!

Loretta!

I didn't mean it, I didn't mean it.

You're joking, you're joking, aren't you?

You're joking.

No.

No, no, no.

Shhh.

Quiet, quiet, quiet.

Stop.

- I'm sorry.

- I didn't mean to.

I loved her.

Oh.

It's you.

You've come for me.

So soon.

I lost track of...

I lost my wife.

She was so young and beautiful and...

But I suppose that doesn't matter now.

You can take me away.

I won't give you trouble.

I did it.

Promise me one thing.

That man I've been pursuing for years.

He's the real criminal.

You've got to find him.

I failed, but you won't.

Promise me you'll put an end to him.

- I have already put an end to him.

- You have?

Ahh, you're a great detective.

Greater than I ever was.

- There was one more appointment

that I had to keep this night.

At the Bank of Paris, where Emile and his family

were waiting for me.

- You're late.

We've all been waiting for you.

- We couldn't do anything until you came.

- The vault has to get underway in half an hour.

Where's the key to the vault?

- Here it is.

I have no use for it.

- What do you mean?

- No use?

- Ow!

- You may do what you wish, I'll have no part in it.

I relinquish my share.

- It's all mine.

And I get yours and mine too.

- Why ours?

Why his?

- I suggest that you destroy the key,

remove the barrels, and leave the bank as you found it.

- Now if you feel inclined to follow my suggestion,

I promise you that you will all be kept on

in the jobs that you've filled so well.

But if you ignore it, I warn you

that as chief of police of France,

I will track you down to the ends of the earth

if necessary, recover the treasure,

and bring you all to justice.

Now.

Make your decision.

Good heavens!

I shall be late to dinner with my future father-in-law,

His Excellency the minister of police.

- Did you hear what he said about his father-in-law?

- Being His Excellency, the minister of police?

- What can we do?

- Huh?

- What can we do?

- Oh, yes, that.

Well, I can't deny I've gotten used to my job at the bank.

- Washing floors is better than being in jail.

- The manager of the bank offered me a promotion yesterday.

- Huh?

Promotion, yes, yes.

Emile brought that man to us.

Emile, what do you advise?

Emile?

Where is he?

- He's gone.

- Gone?

- What is it?

- It's that girl.

You think she's worth 50 million francs?

Much more than that.

- Not to me.

I want my share.

Nobody can stand between me and 50 million.

- Still building your pyramid?

Perhaps I should acquaint you with the fact

that those pyramids became their builders' tombs.

- Not my tomb.

But yours!

- And thus I killed what was left of the dragon in me.

The rest of my life belongs to history.

As the world knows, I confessed my scandalous career

to His Excellency, who for the love of his daughter

forgave and pardoned me.

- On one condition, my dear boy.

That you recompense the many ladies whose, uh, treasures

you have pilfered, and, where possible,

give back what you have taken.

- But with pleasure, Your Excellency.

- Call me Papa, dear boy.

Papa.

- Oh, thank you, Papa.

And I also asked for forgiveness of Madame le Marquise,

which was generously conceded.

- Oh, lark.

All men are criminals in the light of reason.

One steals our hearts, the other our jewels.

Fortunately, my dear boy, you were as skillful at one

as at the other.

But in future, I hope you will...

Behave, Satan!

Uhhh, what was I saying?

- Behave, Satan.

- Exactly.

- I even confessed to little Mimi, who took it very lightly.

- I knew it from the very beginning.

- Knew what?

- That no man is a saint.