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diff --git a/28333-h/28333-h.htm b/28333-h/28333-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e202f63 --- /dev/null +++ b/28333-h/28333-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,13200 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Messengers Of Evil, by Pierre Souvestre And Marcel Allain. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + + .linenum {position: absolute; top: auto; left: 4%;} /* poetry number */ + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;} + .sidenote {width: 20%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em; margin-left: 1em; + float: right; clear: right; margin-top: 1em; + font-size: smaller; color: black; background: #eeeeee; border: dashed 1px;} + + .bb {border-bottom: solid 2px;} + .bl {border-left: solid 2px;} + .bt {border-top: solid 2px;} + .br {border-right: solid 2px;} + .bbox {border: solid 2px;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + .u {text-decoration: underline;} + + .caption {font-weight: bold;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .figright {float: right; clear: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + .footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + .fnanchor {vertical-align: super; font-size: .8em; text-decoration: none;} + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 2em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 4em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + --> + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +Project Gutenberg's Messengers of Evil, by Pierre Souvestre and Marcel Allain + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Messengers of Evil + Being a Further Account of the Lures and Devices of Fantômas + +Author: Pierre Souvestre + Marcel Allain + +Release Date: March 15, 2009 [EBook #28333] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MESSENGERS OF EVIL *** + + + + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + + + + +<h1>MESSENGERS OF EVIL</h1> + +<h2>BEING A FURTHER ACCOUNT OF THE LURES AND DEVICES OF FANTÔMAS</h2> + +<h3>THE FANTÔMAS DETECTIVE NOVELS</h3> + +<h2>BY PIERRE SOUVESTRE AND MARCEL ALLAIN</h2> + +<h3>AUTHORS OF "FANTÔMAS," "THE EXPLOITS OF JUVE," ETC.</h3> + + +<h4>NEW YORK<br /> +BRENTANO'S<br /> +1917</h4> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">Copyright, 1917, by Brentano's</span></h4> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<!-- Autogenerated TOC. Modify or delete as required. --> +<p> +<a href="#I">I. <span class="smcap">The Drama of the Rue Norvins</span></a><br /> +<a href="#II">II. <span class="smcap">Thomery's Two Loves</span></a><br /> +<a href="#III">III. <span class="smcap">Unexpected Complications</span></a><br /> +<a href="#IV">IV. <span class="smcap">A Surprising Itinerary</span></a><br /> +<a href="#V">V. <span class="smcap">Mother Toulouche and Cranajour</span></a><br /> +<a href="#VI">VI. <span class="smcap">In the Opposite Sense</span></a><br /> +<a href="#VII">VII. <span class="smcap">Pearls and Diamonds</span></a><br /> +<a href="#VIII">VIII. <span class="smcap">End of the Ball</span></a><br /> +<a href="#IX">IX. <span class="smcap">Finger Prints</span></a><br /> +<a href="#X">X. <span class="smcap">Identity of a Navvy</span></a><br /> +<a href="#XI">XI. <span class="smcap">An Audacious Theft</span></a><br /> +<a href="#XII">XII. <span class="smcap">Investigations</span></a><br /> +<a href="#XIII">XIII. <span class="smcap">Rue Raffet</span></a><br /> +<a href="#XIV">XIV. <span class="smcap">Someone Telephoned</span></a><br /> +<a href="#XV">XV. <span class="smcap">Vague Suspicions</span></a><br /> +<a href="#XVI">XVI. <span class="smcap">Discussions</span></a><br /> +<a href="#XVII">XVII. <span class="smcap">An Arrest</span></a><br /> +<a href="#XVIII">XVIII. <span class="smcap">At the Bottom of the Trunk</span></a><br /> +<a href="#XIX">XIX. <span class="smcap">Criminal or Victim?</span></a><br /> +<a href="#XX">XX. <span class="smcap">Under the Hooded Mask</span></a><br /> +<a href="#XXI">XXI. <span class="smcap">In a Prison Van</span></a><br /> +<a href="#XXII">XXII. <span class="smcap">An Execution</span></a><br /> +<a href="#XXIII">XXIII. <span class="smcap">From Vaugirard to Montmartre</span></a><br /> +<a href="#XXIV">XXIV. <span class="smcap">At Saint Lazare</span></a><br /> +<a href="#XXV">XXV. <span class="smcap">A Mouse Trap</span></a><br /> +<a href="#XXVI">XXVI. <span class="smcap">In the Trap</span></a><br /> +<a href="#XXVII">XXVII. <span class="smcap">The Imprint</span></a><br /> +<a href="#XXVIII">XXVIII. <span class="smcap">Courage</span></a><br /> +</p> +<!-- End Autogenerated TOC. --> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>MESSENGERS OF EVIL</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="I" id="I"></a>I</h2> + +<h3>THE DRAMA OF THE RUE NORVINS</h3> + + +<p>On Monday, April 4th, 19—, the evening paper <i>La Capitale</i> published +the following article on its first page:—</p> + +<p>A drama, over the motives of which there is a bewildering host of +conjectures, was unfolded this morning on the heights of Montmartre. The +Baroness de Vibray, well known in the Parisian world and among artists, +whose generous patroness she was, has been found dead in the studio of +the ceramic painter, Jacques Dollon. The young painter, rendered +completely helpless by a soporific, lay stretched out beside her when +the crime was discovered. We say 'crime' designedly, because, when the +preliminary medical examination was completed, it was clear that the +death of the Baroness de Vibray was due to the absorption of some +poison.</p> + +<p>The painter, Jacques Dollon, whom the enlightened attentions of Doctor +Mayran had drawn from his condition of torpor, underwent a short +examination from the superintendent of police, in the course of which he +made remarks of so suspicious a nature that the examining magistrate put +him under arrest then and there. At police headquarters they are +absolutely dumb regarding this strange affair. Nevertheless, the +personal investigation undertaken by us throws a little light on what is +already called: <i>The Drama of the Rue Norvins</i>.</p> + +<h4><i>The Discovery of the Crime</i></h4> + +<p>This morning, about seven o'clock, Madame Béju, a housekeeper in the +service of the painter, Jacques Dollon, who, with his sister, +Mademoiselle Elizabeth Dollon, occupied lodge number six, in the Close +of the rue Norvins, was on the ground-floor of the house, attending to +her customary duties. She had been on the premises about half an hour, +and, so far, had not noticed anything abnormal; however, astonished at +not hearing any movements on the floor above, for the painter generally +rose pretty early, Madame Béju decided to go upstairs and wake her +master, who would be vexed at having let himself sleep so late. She had +to pass through the studio to reach Monsieur Jacques Dollon's bedroom. +No sooner had she raised the door curtain of the studio than she +recoiled, horrorstruck!</p> + +<p>Disorder reigned in the studio: a startling disorder!</p> + +<p>Pieces of furniture displaced, some of them overturned, showed that +something extraordinary had happened there. In the middle of the room, +on the floor, lay the inanimate form of a person whom Madame Béju knew +well, for she had seen her at the painter's house many a time—the +Baroness de Vibray. Not far from her, buried in a large arm-chair, +motionless, giving no sign of life, was Monsieur Jacques Dollon!</p> + +<p>When the good woman saw the rigid attitude of these two persons, she +realised that she was in the presence of a tragedy.</p> + +<p>Stirred to the depths, she redescended the stairs, calling for help: +shortly afterwards, the entire Close was in a state of ferment: house +porters, neighbours, male and female, crowded round Madame Béju, +endeavouring to understand her disconnected account of the terrifying +spectacle she had come face to face with but a minute before.</p> + +<p>Sudden death, suicide, crime—all were plausible suppositions. The more +audacious of these gossip-mongers had ventured as far as the studio +door; from that standpoint, a rapid glance round enabled them to get a +clear idea of the truth of the housekeeper's statements: they returned +to give a confirmation of them to the inquisitive and increasing crowd +in the principal avenue of the Close.</p> + +<p>'The police! The police must be informed!' cried the Close portress.</p> + +<p>Whilst this woman, with considerable presence of mind, and aided by +Madame Béju, exerted herself to keep out the people of the neighbourhood +who had got wind of the tragedy, two men had set off to seek the police.</p> + +<h4><i>Lodge Number 6</i></h4> + +<p>On the summit of Montmartre is the rue Norvins. In shape it resembles a +donkey's back, and at one particular spot it hugs the accentuated curve +of the Butte. The Close of the rue Norvins is situated at number 47. It +is separated from the street by a strong iron gate, the porter's lodge +being at the side. The Close consists of a series of little dwellings, +separated by wooden railings, up which climbing plants grow. Fine trees +encircle these abodes with so thick a curtain of leafage that the +inhabitants might think themselves buried in the depths of the country.</p> + +<p>Lodge Number 6 is even more isolated than the others. It consists of a +ground floor and a first floor, with an immense studio attached. Three +years ago, Number 6 was leased to Monsieur Jacques Dollon, then a +student at the Fine Arts School. It has been continuously occupied by +the tenant and his sister, Miss Elizabeth Dollon, who has kept house for +her brother. For the last fortnight the painter has been alone: his +sister, who had gone to Switzerland to convalesce after a long illness, +was expected back that same day, or the day following.</p> + +<p>The reputation of the two young people is considered by their neighbours +to be beyond criticism. The artist has led a regular and hard-working +life: last year the Salon accorded him a medal of the second class.</p> + +<p>His sister, an affable and unassuming girl, seemed always much attached +to her brother. In that very Bohemian neighbourhood she is highly +thought of as a girl of the most estimable character.</p> + +<p>The Baroness de Vibray visited them frequently, and her motor-car used +to attract attention in that high, remote suburb—the wilds of +Montmartre. The old lady liked to dress in rather showy colours; she was +considered eccentric, but was also known to be good and generous. She +took a particular interest in the Dollons, whose family, so it was said, +she had known in Provence. Jacques Dollon and his sister highly valued +their intimacy with the Baroness de Vibray, who was known all over Paris +as a patroness of artists and the arts.</p> + +<h4><i>First Verifications</i></h4> + +<p>Already slander and imagination between them had concocted the wildest +stories, when Monsieur Agram, the eminent police superintendent of the +Clignancourt Quarter, appeared at the entrance to the Close. Accompanied +by his secretary, he at once entered Number 6, charging the two +policemen, who were assisting him, on no account to allow anyone to +enter, excepting the doctor, whom he had at once sent for.</p> + +<p>He requested the portress to hold herself at his disposal in the garden, +and made Madame Béju accompany him to the studio. Barely twenty minutes +had elapsed since the housekeeper had been terror-struck by the dreadful +spectacle which had met her eyes there. When she entered with the +superintendent of police nothing had been altered. Madame de Vibray, +horribly pale, her eyes closed, her lips violet-hued, lay stretched on +the floor: her body had assumed the rigidity of a corpse. That of +Jacques Dollon, huddled in an arm-chair, was in a state of immobility.</p> + +<p>Monsieur Agram at once noticed long, intersecting streaks on the floor, +such as might have been traced by heavy furniture dragged over the waxed +boards of the flooring. A pungent medicinal odour caught the throats of +the visitors: Madame Béju was about to open a window: the superintendent +stopped her:</p> + +<p>'Let things remain as they are for the present,' was his order. After +casting an observant eye round the room he questioned the housekeeper:</p> + +<p>'Is this state of disorder usual?'</p> + +<p>'Never in this world, sir!' declared the good woman. 'Monsieur Dollon +and his sister are very steady, very regular in their habits, especially +the young lady. It is true that she has been absent for nearly a month, +but her brother has often been left alone, and he has always insisted on +his studio being kept in good order.'</p> + +<p>'Did Monsieur Dollon have many visitors?'</p> + +<p>'Very seldom, monsieur. Sometimes his neighbours would come in; and then +there was that poor lady lying there so deathly pale that it makes me +ill to look at her....'</p> + +<h4><i>Jacques Dollon lives</i></h4> + +<p>The conversation was interrupted by the arrival of the doctor employed +in connection with relief for the poor. The superintendent of police +pointed out to this Dr. Mayran the two inanimate figures. A glance of +the doctor's trained eye sufficed to show him that Madame de Vibray had +been dead for some time. Approaching Jacques Dollon, Dr. Mayran examined +him attentively:</p> + +<p>'Will you help me to lift him on to a bed or a table?' he asked. 'It +seems to me that this one is not dead.'</p> + +<p>'His bedroom is next to this!' cried Madame Béju. 'Oh, heavens above! If +only the poor young man would recover!'</p> + +<p>Silently the doctor, aided by the superintendent and a policeman, +transported young Dollon into the next room.</p> + +<p>'Air!' cried the doctor, 'give him air! Open all the windows! It seems +to me a case of suspended animation! There is partial suffocation. This +will probably yield to energetic treatment.'</p> + +<p>Whilst good Madame Béju, whose legs were shaking under her, was carrying +out the doctor's orders, the superintendent of police kept watch to see +that nothing was touched. The doctor's attention was concentrated on +Jacques Dollon. Monsieur Agram was searching for some indication which +might throw light on the drama. So far he had been unable to formulate +any hypothesis. Should the moribund painter return to consciousness, the +explanation he could give would certainly clear up the situation. At +this point in the superintendent's cogitations, the doctor called out:</p> + +<p>'He lives! He lives! Bring me a glass of water!'</p> + +<p>Jacques Dollon was returning to consciousness! Slowly, painfully, his +features contracting as at the remembrance of a horrible nightmare, the +young man stretched his limbs, opened his eyes: he turned a dull gaze on +those about him, a gaze which became one of stupefaction when he +perceived these unknown faces gathered round his bed. His eyes fell on +his housekeeper. He murmured:</p> + +<p>'Mme ... Bé-ju ... je...,' and fell back into unconsciousness.</p> + +<p>'Is he dead?' whispered Monsieur Agram.</p> + +<p>The doctor smiled:</p> + +<p>'Be reassured, monsieur: he lives; but he finds it terribly difficult to +wake up. He has certainly swallowed some powerful narcotic and is still +under its influence; but its effects will soon pass off now.'</p> + +<p>The good doctor spoke the truth.</p> + +<p>In a short time Jacques Dollon, making a violent effort, sat up. Casting +scared and bewildered glances about him, he cried:</p> + +<p>'Who are you? What do you want of me?... Ah, the ruffians! The bandits!'</p> + +<p>'There is nothing to fear, monsieur. I am simply the doctor they have +called in to attend to you! Be calm!... You must recover your senses, +and tell us what has happened!'</p> + +<p>Jacques Dollon pressed his hands to his forehead, as though in pain:</p> + +<p>'How heavy my head is!' he muttered. 'What has happened to me?... Let me +see!... Wait.... Ah ... yes ... that's it!'</p> + +<p>At a sign from the doctor, the superintendent had stationed himself +beside the bed, behind the young painter.</p> + +<p>Keeping a finger on his patient's pulse, the doctor asked him, in a +fatherly fashion, to tell him all about it.</p> + +<p>'It is like this,' replied Jacques Dollon.... 'Yesterday evening I was +sitting in my arm-chair reading. It was getting late. I had been working +hard.... I was tired.... All of a sudden I was surrounded by masked men, +clothed in long black garments: they flung themselves on me. Before I +could make a movement I was gagged, bound with cords.... I felt +something pointed driven into my leg—into my arm.... Then an +overpowering drowsiness overcame me, the strangest visions passed before +my eyes; I lost consciousness rapidly.... I wanted to move, to cry +out ... in vain ... there was no strength in me ... powerless ... and +that's all!'</p> + +<p>'Is there nothing more?' asked the doctor.</p> + +<p>After a minute's reflection Jacques answered:</p> + +<p>'That is all.'</p> + +<p>He now seemed fully awake. He moved: the movement was evidently painful: +'It hurts,' he said, instinctively putting his hand on his left thigh.</p> + +<p>'Let us see what is wrong,' said the doctor, and was preparing to +examine the place when a voice from the studio called:</p> + +<p>'Monsieur!'</p> + +<p>It was Monsieur Agram's secretary. The magistrate left his post by the +bed and went into the studio.</p> + +<p>'Monsieur,' said the secretary, 'I have just found this paper under the +chair in which Monsieur Dollon was: will you acquaint yourself with its +contents?'</p> + +<p>The magistrate seized the paper: it was a letter, couched in the +following terms:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Dear Madame,</i></p> + +<p><i>If you do not fear to climb the heights of Montmartre some +evening, will you come to see the painted pottery I am preparing +for the Salon: you will be welcome, and will confer on us a great +pleasure. I say 'us,' because I have excellent news of Elizabeth, +who is returning shortly: perhaps she will be here to receive you +with me.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>I am your respectful and devoted</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Jacques Dollon.</i><br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p>The magistrate was frowning as he handed back the letter to his +secretary, saying: 'Keep it carefully.' Then he went into the bedroom, +where the doctor was talking to the invalid. The doctor turned to +Monsieur Agram:</p> + +<p>'Monsieur Dollon has just asked me who you are: I did not think I ought +to hide from him that you are a superintendent of police, monsieur.'</p> + +<p>'Ah!' cried Jacques Dollon. 'Can you help me to discover what happened +to me last night?'</p> + +<p>'You have just told us yourself, monsieur,' replied the +magistrate.... 'But have you nothing further to tell us? Can you not +recollect whether or no you had a visitor before the arrival of the +men who attacked you?'</p> + +<p>'Why, no, monsieur, no one called.'</p> + +<p>The doctor here intervened:</p> + +<p>'The pain in the leg, Monsieur Dollon complained of, need not cause any +anxiety. It is a very slight superficial wound. A slight swelling above +the broken skin possibly indicates an intra-muscular puncture, which +might have been made by someone unaccustomed to such operations, for it +is a clumsy performance. It is a queer business!...'</p> + +<p>Monsieur Agram, who had been steadily observing Jacques Dollon, +persisted:</p> + +<p>'Is there not a gap, monsieur, in your recollections of what +occurred?... Were you quite alone yesterday evening? Were you not +expecting anyone?... Are you certain that you did not have a visitor? +Did not someone pay you a visit—someone you had asked to come and see +you?'</p> + +<p>Jacques Dollon opened his eyes—eyes of stupefaction—and stared at the +superintendent:</p> + +<p>'No, monsieur.'</p> + +<p>'It is that——' went on Monsieur Agram. Then stopping short, and +drawing the doctor aside, he asked:</p> + +<p>'Do you consider him in a fit state to bear a severe moral shock?... A +confrontation?'</p> + +<p>The doctor glanced at his patient:</p> + +<p>'He appears to me to be quite himself again: you can act as you see fit, +monsieur.'</p> + +<p>Jacques Dollon, astonished at this confabulation, and vaguely uneasy, +was, in fact, able to get up without help.</p> + +<p>'Be good enough to go into your studio, monsieur,' said the magistrate.</p> + +<p>Jacques Dollon complied without a word. No sooner did he cross the +threshold than he recoiled, terror-struck.</p> + +<p>He was shaking from head to foot; his lips were quivering; every feature +expressed horrified shrinking from the spectacle confronting him.</p> + +<p>'The—the—the Baroness de Vibray!' he barely articulated: 'how can it +be possible?'</p> + +<p>The superintendent of police did not lose a single movement made by the +young painter, keeping a lynx-eyed watch on every expression that +flitted across his countenance. He said:</p> + +<p>'It certainly is the Baroness de Vibray, dead—assassinated, no doubt. +How do you explain that?'</p> + +<p>'But,' retorted Jacques Dollon, who appeared overwhelmed: 'I do not +know! I do not understand!'</p> + +<p>The magistrate replied:</p> + +<p>'Yet, did you not invite her to your studio? Had you not asked her to +come some evening soon? Had you not certain pieces of painted pottery to +show her?'</p> + +<p>'That is so,' confessed the painter: 'but I was not aware.... I did not +know....' He seemed about to faint. The doctor made him sit down in the +chair where he had been found unconscious. Whilst he was recovering, +Monsieur Agram continued his investigations. He opened a little +cupboard, in which were several poisonous powders: this was shown by the +writing on the flasks containing them. He spoke to the doctor, taking +care that Jacques Dollon should not overhear him:</p> + +<p>'Did you not say that this woman's death is due to poison?'</p> + +<p>'It certainly looks like it.... A post-mortem will ...'</p> + +<h4><i>The Arrest</i></h4> + +<p>Interrupting the doctor, Monsieur Agram went up to Jacques Dollon:</p> + +<p>'In the exercise of your profession, monsieur, do you not make use of +various poisons, of which you have a reserve supply here?'</p> + +<p>'That is so,' confirmed Jacques Dollon, in a faint voice: 'But it is a +very long time since I employed any of them.'</p> + +<p>'Very good, monsieur.'</p> + +<p>Monsieur Agram now made Madame Béju leave the room. He asked her to +transmit an order to his policemen: they were to drive back the crowd. +Soon a cab brought by a constable entered the Close, and drew up before +the door of Number 6.</p> + +<p>Jacques Dollon, supported by two people, descended and entered the cab.</p> + +<p>Immediately a rumour spread that he had been arrested.</p> + +<p>This rumour was correct.</p> + +<h4><i>Our Inquiry—Silence at Police Headquarters—Probable Motives of +the Crime</i></h4> + +<p>Such are the details referring to this strange affair, which we have +been able to procure from those who were present. But the motives which +determined the arrest of Monsieur Dollon are obscure.</p> + +<p>There are, however, two suspicious facts. The first is the puncture made +in Monsieur Jacques Dollon's left leg: this puncture is aggravated by a +scratch. According to the doctors, soporific, injected into the human +body by the de Pravaz syringe, acts violently and efficaciously. It is +beyond a doubt that Monsieur Jacques Dollon has been rendered +unconscious in this manner.</p> + +<p>To begin with, the painter's first version was considered the true one, +namely, that he had been surprised by robbers, who rendered him +unconscious; but, on reflection, this explanation would not hold water. +Murderous house-thieves do not send people to sleep: they kill them. Add +to this that nothing has been stolen from Monsieur Dollon: therefore, +mere robbery was not the motive of the crime.</p> + +<p>Besides, Monsieur Dollon maintained that he was alone; yet at that time +Madame de Vibray was in his studio, and was there precisely because the +artist himself had asked her to come. We know that the Baroness de +Vibray, who was very wealthy, took a particular interest in this young +man and his sister.</p> + +<p>We should consider ourselves to blame, did we not now remind our readers +that the names of those personages—Dollon, Vibray—implicated in the +drama of the rue Norvins, have already figured in the chronicles of +crimes, both recent and celebrated.</p> + +<p>Thus the assassination of the Marquise de Langrune cannot have been +forgotten, an assassination which has remained a mystery, which was +perpetrated a few years ago, and brought into prominence the +personalities of Monsieur Rambert and the charming Thérèse +Auvernois....</p> + +<p>Madame de Vibray, who has just been so tragically done to death, was an +intimate friend of the Marquise de Langrune....</p> + +<p>Monsieur Jacques Dollon is a son of Madame de Langrune's old steward....</p> + +<p>We do not, of course, pretend to connect, in any way whatever, the drama +of the rue Norvins with the bygone drama which ended in the execution of +Gurn,<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> but we cannot pass over in silence the strange coincidence +that, within the space of a few years, the same halo of mystery +surrounds the same group of individuals....</p> + +<p>But let us return to our narrative:</p> + +<p>Monsieur Jacques Dollon, interrogated by the superintendent of police, +declared that he very rarely made use of the poisons locked up in the +little cupboard of his studio....</p> + +<p>Notwithstanding this, it was discovered, during the course of the +perquisition, that one of the phials containing poison had been recently +opened, and that traces of the powder were still to be found on the +floor. This powder is now being analysed, whilst the faculty are engaged +in a post-mortem examination of the unfortunate victim's body; but, at +the present moment, everything leads to the belief that there does not +exist an immediate and certain link between this poison and the sudden +death of the Baroness de Vibray.</p> + +<p>It might easily be supposed, and this we believe is the view taken at +Police Headquarters, that for a motive as yet unknown, a motive the +judicial examination will certainly bring to light, the artist has +poisoned his patroness; and, in order to put the authorities on the +wrong scent (perhaps he hoped she would leave the studio before the +death-agony commenced), he has devised this species of tableau, invented +the story of the masked men.</p> + +<p>In fact, the doctor who first attended him has declared that the +puncture, clumsily made, might very well have been done by Jacques +Dollon himself.</p> + +<p>It is worth noting that not a soul saw the Baroness de Vibray enter +Monsieur Dollon's house yesterday evening: as a rule, she comes in her +motor-car, and all the neighbourhood can hear her arrival.</p> + +<p>It seems evident that Jacques Dollon will abandon the line of defence he +has adopted: it can hardly be described as rational.</p> + +<p>There is little doubt but that we shall have sensational revelations +regarding the crime of the rue Norvins.</p> + +<h4><i>Last Hour</i></h4> + +<p>Mademoiselle Elizabeth Dollon, to whom Police Headquarters has +telegraphed that a serious accident has happened to her brother, has +sent a reply telegram from Lausanne to the effect that she will return +to-night.</p> + +<p>The unfortunate girl is probably ignorant of all that has occurred. +Nevertheless, we believe that two detectives have left at once for the +frontier, where they will meet her, and shadow her as far as Paris, in +case she should get news on the way of what had occurred, and should +either attempt to escape, or make an attempt on her life.</p> + +<p>Decidedly, to-morrow promises to be a day full of vicissitudes.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>This article, published on the first page of <i>La Capitale</i>, was signed:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Jérôme Fandor.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="II" id="II"></a>II</h2> + +<h3>THOMERY'S TWO LOVES</h3> + + +<p>Two days before the sinister drama, details of which Jérôme Fandor had +given in <i>La Capitale</i>, the smart little town house inhabited by the +Baroness de Vibray, in the Avenue Henri-Martin, assumed a festive +appearance.</p> + +<p>This did not surprise her neighbours, for they knew the owner of this +charming residence was very much a woman of the world, whose +reception-rooms were constantly opened to the many distinguished +Parisians forming her circle of acquaintances.</p> + +<p>It was seven in the evening when the Baroness, dressed for dinner, +passed from her own room into the small drawing-room adjoining. Crossing +a carpet so thick and soft that it deadened the sound of footsteps, she +pressed the button of an electric bell beside the fireplace. A +major-domo, of the most correct appearance, presented himself.</p> + +<p>"The Baroness rang for me?"</p> + +<p>Madame de Vibray, who had instinctively sought the flattering approval +of her mirror, half turned:</p> + +<p>"I wish to know if anyone called this afternoon, Antoine?"</p> + +<p>"For the Baroness?"</p> + +<p>"Of course!" she replied, a note of impatience in her voice: "I want to +know if anyone called to see <i>me</i> this afternoon?"</p> + +<p>"No, madame."</p> + +<p>"No one has telephoned from the Barbey-Nanteuil Bank?"</p> + +<p>"No, madame."</p> + +<p>Repressing a slight feeling of annoyance, Madame de Vibray changed the +subject:</p> + +<p>"You will have dinner served as soon as the guests arrive. They will not +be later than half-past seven, I suppose."</p> + +<p>Antoine bowed solemnly, vanished into the anteroom, and from thence +gained the servants' hall.</p> + +<p>Madame de Vibray quitted the small drawing-room. Traversing the great +gallery with its glass roof, encircling the staircase, she entered the +dining-room. Covers were laid for three.</p> + +<p>Inspecting the table arrangements with the eye of a mistress of the +house, she straightened the line of some plates, gave a touch of +distinction to the flowers scattered over the table in a conventional +disorder; then she went to the sideboard, where the major-domo had left +a china pot filled with flowers. With a slight shrug, the Baroness +carried the pot to its usual place—a marble column at the further end +of the room:</p> + +<p>"It was fortunate I came to see how things were! Antoine is a good +fellow, but a hare-brained one too!" thought she.</p> + +<p>Madame de Vibray paused a moment: the light from an electric lamp shone +on the vase and wonderfully enhanced its glittering beauty. It was a +piece of faience decorated in the best taste. On its graceful form the +artist had traced the lines of an old colour print, and had scrupulously +preserved the picture born of an eighteenth-century artist's +imagination, with its brilliancy of tone and soft background of tender +grey. Madame de Vibray could not tear herself away from the +contemplation of it. Not only did the design and the treatment please +her, but she also felt a kind of maternal affection for the artist: +"This dear Jacques," she murmured, "has decidedly a great deal of +talent, and I like to think that in a short time his reputation...."</p> + +<p>Her reflections were interrupted by the servant. The good Antoine +announced in a low voice, and with a touch of respectful reproach in his +tone:</p> + +<p>"Monsieur Thomery awaits the Baroness in the small drawing-room: he has +been waiting ten minutes."</p> + +<p>"Very well. I am coming."</p> + +<p>Madame de Vibray, whose movements were all harmonious grace, returned by +way of the gallery to greet her guest. She paused on the threshold of +the small drawing-room, smiling graciously.</p> + +<p>Framed in the dark drapery of the heavy door-curtains, the soft light +from globes of ground glass falling on her, the Baroness de Vibray +appeared a very attractive woman still. Her figure had retained its +youthful slenderness, her neck, white as milk, was as round and fresh as +a girl's; and had the hair about her forehead and temples not been +turning grey—the Baroness wore it powdered, a piece of coquettish +affection on her part—she would not have looked a day more than thirty.</p> + +<p>Monsieur Thomery rose hastily, and advanced to meet her. He kissed her +hand with a gallant air:</p> + +<p>"My dear Mathilde," he declared with an admiring glance, "you are +decidedly an exquisite woman!"</p> + +<p>The Baroness replied by a glance, in which there was something +ambiguous, something of ironical mockery:</p> + +<p>"How are you, Norbert?" she asked in an affectionate tone.... "And those +pains?"</p> + +<p>They seated themselves on a low couch, and began to discuss their +respective aches and pains in friendly fashion. Whilst listening to his +complaints, Madame de Vibray could not but admire his remarkable vigour, +his air of superb health: his looks gave the lie to his words.</p> + +<p>About fifty-five, Monsieur Norbert Thomery seemed to be in the plenitude +of his powers; his premature baldness was redeemed by the vivacity of +his dark brown eyes, also by his long, thick moustache, probably dyed. +He looked like an old soldier. He was the last of the great Thomery +family who, for many generations, had been sugar refiners. His was a +personality well known in Parisian Society; always first at his office +or his factories, as soon as night fell he became the man of the world, +frequenting fashionable drawing-rooms, theatrical first-nights, official +receptions, and balls in the aristocratic circles of the faubourg +Saint-Germain.</p> + +<p>Remarkably handsome, extremely rich, Thomery had had many love affairs. +Gossips had it that between him and Madame de Vibray there had existed a +tender intimacy; and, for once, gossip was right. But they had been +tactful, had respected the conventions whilst their irregular union had +lasted. Though now a thing of the past, for Thomery had sought other +loves, his passion for the Baroness had changed to a calm, strong, +semi-brotherly affection; whilst Madame de Vibray retained a more +lively, a more tender feeling for the man whom she had known as the most +gallant of lovers.</p> + +<p>Thomery suddenly ceased talking of his rheumatism:</p> + +<p>"But, my dear friend, I do not see that pretty smile which is your +greatest charm! How is that?"</p> + +<p>Madame de Vibray looked sad: her beautiful eyes gazed deep into those of +Thomery:</p> + +<p>"Ah," she murmured, "one cannot be eternally smiling; life sometimes +holds painful surprises in store for us."</p> + +<p>"Is something worrying you?" Thomery's tone was one of anxious sympathy.</p> + +<p>"Yes and no," was her evasive reply. There was a silence; then she said:</p> + +<p>"It is always the same thing! I have no hesitation in telling you that, +you, my old friend: it is a money wound—happily it is not mortal."</p> + +<p>Thomery nodded:</p> + +<p>"Well, I declare it is just what I expected! My poor Mathilde, are you +never going to be sensible?"</p> + +<p>The Baroness pouted: "You know quite well I am sensible ... only it +happens that there are moments when one is short of cash! Yesterday I +asked my bankers to send me fifty thousand francs, and I have not heard +a word from them!"</p> + +<p>"That is no great matter! The Barbey-Nanteuil credit cannot be shaken!"</p> + +<p>"Oh," cried the Baroness, "I have no fears on that score; but, as a +rule, their delay in sending me what I ask for is of the briefest, yet +no one has come from them to-day."</p> + +<p>Thomery began scolding her gently:</p> + +<p>"Ah, Mathilde, that you should be in such pressing need of so large a +sum must mean that you have been drawn into some deplorable speculation! +I will wager that you invested in those Oural copper mines after all!"</p> + +<p>"I thought the shares were going up," was Madame de Vibray's excuse: she +lowered her eyes like a naughty schoolgirl caught in the act.</p> + +<p>Thomery, who had risen, and was walking up and down the room, halted in +front of her:</p> + +<p>"I do beg of you to consult those who know all the ins and outs, persons +competent to advise you, when you are bent on plunging into speculations +of this description! The Barbey-Nanteuil people can give you reliable +information; I myself, you know..."</p> + +<p>"But since it is really of no importance!" interrupted Madame de Vibray, +who had no wish to listen to the remonstrances of her too prudent +friend: "What does it matter? It is my only diversion now!... I love +gambling—the emotions it arouses in one, the perpetual hopes and fears +it excites!"</p> + +<p>Thomery was about to reply, to argue, to remonstrate further, but the +Baroness had caught him glancing at the clock hanging beside the +fireplace:</p> + +<p>"I am making you dine late," she said in a tone of apology. Then, with a +touch of malice, and looking up at Thomery from under her eyes, to see +how he took it:</p> + +<p>"You are to be rewarded for having to wait!... I have invited Princess +Sonia Danidoff to dine with you!"</p> + +<p>Thomery started. He frowned. He again seated himself beside the +Baroness:</p> + +<p>"You have invited her?..."</p> + +<p>"Yes ... and why not?... I believe this pretty woman is one of your +special friends... that you consider her the most charming of all your +friends now!..."</p> + +<p>Thomery did not take up the challenge: he simply said:</p> + +<p>"I had an idea that the Princess was not much to your taste!"</p> + +<p>The eyes of Madame de Vibray flashed a sad, strange look on her old +friend, as she said gently:</p> + +<p>"One can accustom oneself to anything and everything, my dear +friend.... Besides, I quite recognise that the Princess deserves +the reputation she enjoys of being wonderfully beautiful and also +intellectual...."</p> + +<p>Thomery did not reply to this: he looked puzzled, annoyed....</p> + +<p>The Baroness continued:</p> + +<p>"They even say that handsome bachelor, Monsieur Thomery, is not +indifferent to her fascinations!... That, for the first time in his +life, he is ready to link ..."</p> + +<p>"Oh, as for that!..." Thomery was protesting, when the door opened, and +the Princess Sonia Danidoff rustled into the room, a superbly—a +dazzlingly beautiful vision, all audacity and charm.</p> + +<p>"Accept all my apologies, dear Baroness," she cried, "for arriving so +late; but the streets are so crowded!"</p> + +<p>"... And I live such a long way out!" added Madame de Vibray.</p> + +<p>"You live in a charming part," amended the Princess. Then, catching +sight of Thomery:</p> + +<p>"Why, you!" she cried. And, with a gracious and dignified gesture, the +Princess extended her hand, which the wealthy sugar refiner hastened to +kiss.</p> + +<p>At this moment the double doors were flung wide, and Antoine, with his +most solemn air, his most stiff-starched manner, announced:</p> + +<p>"Dinner is served!"</p> + +<p>"... No," cried she, smiling, whilst she refused the arm offered by her +old friend; "take in the Princess, dear friend; I will follow ... by +myself!"</p> + +<p>Thomery obeyed. He passed slowly along the gallery into the dining-room +with the Princess. Behind them came the Baroness, who watched them as +they went: Thomery, big, muscular, broad-shouldered: Sonia Danidoff, +slim, pliant, refined, dainty!</p> + +<p>Checking a deep sigh, the Baroness could not help thinking, and her +heart ached at the thought:</p> + +<p>"What a fine couple they would make!... What a fine couple they will +make!"</p> + +<p>But, as she seated herself opposite her guests, she said to herself:</p> + +<p>"Bah!... I must send sad thoughts flying!... It is high time!"</p> + +<p>"My dear Thomery!" she cried playfully: "I wish—I expect you to show +yourself the most charming of men to your delicious neighbour!"</p> + +<p>Ten o'clock had struck before Madame de Vibray and her guests left the +dinner-table and proceeded to the small drawing-room. Thomery was +allowed to smoke in their presence; besides, the Princess had accepted a +Turkish cigarette, and the Baroness had allowed herself a liqueur. A +most excellent dinner and choice wines had loosened tongues, and, in +accordance with a prearranged plan, Madame de Vibray had directed the +conversation imperceptibly into the channels she wished it to follow. +Thus she learned what she had feared to know, namely, that a very +serious flirtation had been going on for some time between Thomery and +the Princess; that between this beautiful and wealthy young widow and +the millionaire sugar refiner, the flirtation was rapidly developing +into something much warmer and more lasting. So far, the final stage +had evidently not been reached; nevertheless, Thomery had suggested, +tentatively, that he would like to give a grand ball when he took +possession of the new house which he was having built for himself in the +park Monceau!... And had he not been so extremely anxious to secure a +partner for the cotillion which he meant to lead!... Then Madame de +Vibray had suggested that the person obviously fitted to play this +important part was the Princess Sonia Danidoff! Who better!</p> + +<p>The suggestion was welcomed by both: it was settled there and then.</p> + +<p>"Yes," thought the Baroness, "Thomery's marriage is practically +arranged, that is evident!... Well, I must resign myself to the +inevitable!"</p> + +<p>It was about half-past eleven when Sonia Danidoff rose to take leave of +her hostess. Thomery, hesitating, looked first at his old friend, then +at the Princess, asking himself what he ought to do. Madame de Vibray +felt secretly grateful to him for this momentary hesitation. As a woman +whose mourning for a dead love is over, she spoke out bravely:</p> + +<p>"Dear friend," said she, "surely you are not going to let the Princess +return alone?... I hope she will allow you to see her safely home?"</p> + +<p>The Princess pressed the hands of her generous hostess: she was radiant:</p> + +<p>"What a good kind friend you are!" she cried in an outburst of sincere +affection. Then, with a questioning glance, in which there was a touch +of uneasiness, a slight hesitation, she said:</p> + +<p>"Ah, do let me kiss you!"</p> + +<p>For all reply Madame de Vibray opened her arms; the two women clung +together, sealing with their kiss the treaty of peace both wished to +keep.</p> + +<p>When the humming of the motor-car, which bore off the Princess and +Thomery, had died away in the distance, Madame de Vibray retired to her +room. A tear rolled down her cheek:</p> + +<p>"A little bit of my heart has gone with them," she murmured. The poor +woman sighed deeply: "Ah, it is my whole heart that has gone!"</p> + +<p>There was a discreet knock at the door. She mastered her emotion. It was +the dignified mistress of the house who said quietly:</p> + +<p>"Come in!"</p> + +<p>It was Antoine, who presented two letters on a silver salver. He +explained that, believing his mistress to be anxiously awaiting some +news, he had ventured to bring up the last post at this late hour.</p> + +<p>After bidding Antoine good night, she recalled him to say:</p> + +<p>"Please tell the maid not to come up. I shall not require her. I can +manage by myself."</p> + +<p>Madame de Vibray went towards the little writing-table, which stood in +one corner of her room; in leisurely fashion she sat down and proceeded +to open her letters with a wearied air.</p> + +<p>"Why, it's from that nice Jacques Dollon!" she exclaimed, as she read +the first letter she opened: "I was thinking of him at this very +minute!" ... "Yes," she went on, as she read, "I shall certainly pay him +a visit soon!"</p> + +<p>Madame de Vibray put Jacques Dollon's letter in her handbag, recognising +on the back of the second letter the initials B. N., which she knew to +be the discreet superscription on the business paper of her bankers, +Messieurs Barbey-Nanteuil. It was long and closely written, in a fine, +regular hand. When she began to read it her attention was wandering, for +her mind was full of Sonia Danidoff and Thomery, and what she had +ascertained regarding their relation to each other; but little by little +she became absorbed in what she was reading, till her whole attention +was taken captive. As she read on, however, her eyes opened more and +more widely, there was a look of keenest anguish in them, her features +contracted as if in pain, her bosom heaved, her fingers were trembling +under the stress of some intense emotion:</p> + +<p>"Oh, my God! Ah! My God!" she gasped out several times in a half-choked +voice.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Silence had reigned for a long while in the smart town house of the +Baroness de Vibray in the Avenue Henri-Martin....</p> + +<p>From without came no sound; the avenue was quiet, deserted; the night +was dark. But when three o'clock struck, the bedroom of Madame de Vibray +was still flooded with light. She had not left her writing-table since +she had read the letter of her bankers, Messieurs Barbey-Nanteuil. She +wrote on, and on, without intermission.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="III" id="III"></a>III</h2> + +<h3>UNEXPECTED COMPLICATIONS</h3> + + +<p>At nine o'clock in the morning, the staff of that great evening paper, +<i>La Capitale</i>, were assembled in the vast editorial room, writing out +their copy, in the midst of a perfect hubbub of continual comings and +goings, of regular shindies, of perpetual discussions.</p> + +<p>A stranger entering this room, which among its frequenters went by the +name of "The Wild Beasts' Cage," might easily have thought he was +witnessing some thirty schoolboys at play in recreation time, instead of +being in the presence of famous journalists celebrated for their reports +and articles.</p> + +<p>Jérôme Fandor had no sooner appeared on the threshold than he was +accorded a variety of greetings—ironical, cordial, fault-finding, +sympathetic. But he ignored them all; for, like most of those who came +into the editorial room at this hour, he was preoccupied with one thing +only—where the caprice of his editorial secretary would send him flying +for news, in the course of a few minutes? On what difficult and delicate +quest would he be despatched? It depended on the exigencies of passing +events, on how questions of the hour struck the editorial secretary, in +relation to Fandor.</p> + +<p>Just as he had expected, the editorial secretary called him.</p> + +<p>"Hey! Fandor, come here a minute! I am on the make-up: what have you got +for to-day?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know. Who has charge of the landing of the King of Spain?"</p> + +<p>"Maray. He has just left. Have you seen the last issue of <i>l'Havas</i>?"</p> + +<p>"Here it is...."</p> + +<p>The two men ran rapidly through the night's telegrams.</p> + +<p>"Deplorably empty!" remarked the editorial secretary. "But where am I to +send you?... Ah, now I have it! That article of yours on the rue Norvins +affair, yesterday evening, was interesting—it made the others squirm, I +know! Isn't there anything more to be got out of that story?"</p> + +<p>"What do you want?"</p> + +<p>"Can't you stick in something just a little bit scandalous about the +Baroness de Vibray? Or about Dollon? About no matter whom, in fact? +After all, it's our one and only crime to-day, and you must put in +something under that head!..."</p> + +<p>Jérôme Fandor seemed to hesitate.</p> + +<p>"Would you like me to rake up the past—refer to what happened before?"</p> + +<p>"What past?"</p> + +<p>"Come now, you must have an inkling of what I refer to!"</p> + +<p>"Not I!"</p> + +<p>"Ah, my dear fellow, it will not be the first time we have had to +mention these personages in our columns!... Just cast your mind back to +the Gurn affair!..."</p> + +<p>"Ah, the drama in which a great lady was implicated ... to her +detriment! Lady ... Lady Beltham?"</p> + +<p>"You have got it! These Dollons—Jacques and Elizabeth—did you know +it?—happen to be the children of old Dollon, who was murdered in the +train—an extraordinary murder!—when on his way to Paris, to give +evidence in the Gurn case?"</p> + +<p>"Why, of course! I remember perfectly!" declared the editorial +secretary: "Dollon, the father, was the Marquise de Langrune's +steward!... The old lady who was murdered!... Isn't that so?"</p> + +<p>"That's it!... But, after the death of his mistress, he entered the +service of the Baroness de Vibray, she who was assassinated yesterday!"</p> + +<p>"Well, I must say they have not been favoured by fortune," said the +secretary jokingly. "But, look here, Fandor—like father, like son, +eh?... If this young Dollon has murdered Madame de Vibray, doesn't that +make you think that his father was the murderer of the Marquise de +Langrune?"</p> + +<p>Jérôme Fandor shook his head:</p> + +<p>"No, old boy, yesterday's crime was ordinary, even common-place, but the +assassination of the Marquise de Langrune, on the contrary, gave the +police no end of bother."</p> + +<p>"They did not find out anything, did they?"</p> + +<p>"Why, yes!... Don't you remember?... Naturally enough, it must all seem +rather remote to you, but I have all the details as clearly in mind as +if they had happened only yesterday.... The Gurn affair was one of the +first I had a hand in, with Juve ... it was in connection with that very +affair I made my start here on <i>La Capitale</i>."<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a></p> + +<p>Fandor grew pale:</p> + +<p>"And you were jolly proud of it, eh, Fandor?... Good Heavens, how you +did hold forth about this Juve! And you regularly fed us up with this +villain, so mysterious, so extraordinary, who was never run to earth, +could not be captured, was capable of the most inhuman cruelties, +capable of devising the most unimaginable tricks and stratagems—this +Fantômas!"</p> + +<p>Fandor grew pale:</p> + +<p>"My dear fellow," said he, "never speak sneeringly or jokingly of +Fantômas!... No doubt it is taken for granted, by the public at any +rate, that Fantômas is an invention of Juve and myself: that Fantômas +never existed!... And that because this monster, who is a man of genius, +has never been identified; because not a soul has been able to lay hands +on him ...; and because, as you know, this fruitless pursuit has cost +poor Juve his life...."</p> + +<p>"The truth is, this famous detective died a foul death!"</p> + +<p>"No! You are mistaken! Juve died on the field of honour! When, after a +terribly difficult and dangerous investigation, he succeeded (by this +time it was no longer the Gurn-Fantômas affair, but that of the +boulevard Inkermann at Neuilly) in cornering Fantômas, he was well aware +that he risked his life in entering the bandit's abode. What happened +was that the villain found means to blow up the house, and to bury Juve +underneath the ruins.<a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> Fantômas has proved the stronger; but, +according to my ideas, Juve has had, none the less, the finest death he +could desire—death in the midst of the fight—a useful death!"</p> + +<p>"Useful? In what way?..."</p> + +<p>"My dear fellow," cried Fandor, in a tone of vigorous denial, "in the +opinion of all unprejudiced minds, the death of Juve has proved, proved +up to the hilt, the existence of Fantômas.... More, it has forced this +villain to disappear; it has restored peace, tranquillity to +society.... At the cost of his life, Juve has scored a final triumph, +he has deprived Fantômas of the power to do harm—pared his claws in +fact."</p> + +<p>"The truth is he is never mentioned now by a soul ... for all that, +Fandor, only to see you smile! Why—," and the editorial secretary shook +a threatening finger at his colleague: "I'll wager you still believe in +Fantômas!... That one fine day you will write us a rattling good +article, announcing some fresh Fantômas crime!"</p> + +<p>Jérôme Fandor made no direct reply to this—it was useless to try and +convince those who had not closely followed the records of crimes +perpetrated during recent years: you could not make them believe in the +existence of Fantômas. Fandor <i>knew</i>; but, Juve dead, was there another +soul who could know the true facts?</p> + +<p>All he said was:</p> + +<p>"Well, my dear fellow, this does not tell us what we are to fill up the +paper with now!... If the doings connected with Fantômas are frightful, +rousing our feelings in the highest degree, I repeat that yesterday's +crime bears no resemblance to them: we can put in a paragraph or +so—that is all!"</p> + +<p>"No way, is there, of compromising anyone with our Baroness de Vibray?"</p> + +<p>"I don't think so! It's a perfectly common-place affair. An elderly +woman patronises a young painter, whose mistress she may or may not be, +and she ends up by getting herself assassinated when the young man +imagines he is mentioned in her will."</p> + +<p>"Ah! good! Well, I think you will have to fall back on the opening of +the artesian well. That suit you?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, quite all right!... If you like I can give you my copy in half an +hour. I know who are going to speak at the inauguration ceremony, and I +can add names this evening! You know I am a bit of a specialist as +regards reports written beforehand!"</p> + +<p>Fandor had got well on with his article: at the rate he was going he +would have finished that morning, he thought with pleasure, and would +have a free afternoon. Just then an office boy appeared:</p> + +<p>"Monsieur Fandor, you are being asked for at the telephone."</p> + +<p>Like most journalists, Fandor was accustomed to reply in nine cases out +of ten, in similar cases, that he was not to be found. On this occasion, +however, some interior prompting made him say:</p> + +<p>"I will come."</p> + +<p>A few minutes later Fandor went up to the editorial secretary:</p> + +<p>"Look here, old fellow, something unexpected has happened.... I must go +to the Palais de Justice ... you don't want me for anything else this +morning, do you?"</p> + +<p>"No, go along! But what's up?"</p> + +<p>"Oh ... this Jacques Dollon, you know, the assassin of the rue Norvins? +Well, this imbecile has gone and hanged himself in his cell!"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>At the exit door of <i>La Capitale</i>, in the noisy rue Montmartre, crowded +with costermongers' barrows, Jérôme Fandor hailed a taxi.</p> + +<p>"To the Palais!"</p> + +<p>Some minutes later he was crossing the hall of the Wandering Footsteps +(as it is called), giving rapid, cordial greetings to all the barristers +of his acquaintance—one never knew when they might impart a special +piece of information which let an enterprising journalist into the know, +or put him early on to a good thing—and finally reached the lobbies of +the Law Courts proper. He was saying to himself as he went along:</p> + +<p>"He is a good fellow, Jouet! The news is not known yet! He telephoned me +first!"</p> + +<p>His friend Jouet met him, with a warm handshake:</p> + +<p>"You did not seem to be in a good temper at the telephone just now, +although I was giving you a nice bit of information!"</p> + +<p>"Yes," retorted Fandor, "but information which simply proved how much +the administrators of justice, to which you have the misfortune to +belong, can make egregious mistakes! When, for once, you succeed in +immediately arresting the assassin of someone well known, and are in a +position to bring into play all the power and rigour of the law, you are +clumsy enough to give the fellow a chance of punishing himself, you let +him commit suicide on the very first night of his arrest!"</p> + +<p>Fandor had been speaking in a fairly loud voice, as usual, but, at +imperative signs made by his friend, he lowered his tones:</p> + +<p>"What is it?" he murmured.</p> + +<p>His friend rose:</p> + +<p>"What we are going to do, old boy, is to take a turn in the galleries! +I have something to say to you, and, joking apart, you are not to +breathe a word of it to a soul—sh?"</p> + +<p>"Count on me!"</p> + +<p>Presently the two friends found themselves in one of the corridors of +the Palais, known only to barristers and those accused of law-breaking.</p> + +<p>"Come now!" cried Fandor, "your assassin has hanged himself, hasn't he?"</p> + +<p>"My assassin!" expostulated the junior barrister: "My assassin! Allow me +to inform you that Jacques Dollon is innocent!"</p> + +<p>"Innocent?" Jérôme Fandor shrugged a disbelieving shoulder: "Innocent! +It is the fashion of the day to transform all murderers into +innocents!... What ground have you for making such a declaration of +innocence?"</p> + +<p>"Here is my ground! I have just copied it out for you! Read!..."</p> + +<p>Fandor hastened to read the paper handed to him by his friend. It was +headed thus:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"<i>Copy of a letter brought by Maître Gérin to the Public +Prosecutor, a letter addressed to Maître Gérin by the Baroness de +Vibray.</i>"</p></div> + +<p>"Oh, it's a plant!" cried Fandor.</p> + +<p>"Go on reading, you will see...."</p> + +<p>Fandor continued:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"<i>My dear Maître</i>,—</p> + +<p><i>You will forgive me, I am certain of that, for all the +inconvenience I am going to cause you; I turn to you because you +are the only friend in whom I have confidence.</i></p> + +<p><i>I have just received a letter from my bankers, Messieurs +Barbey-Nanteuil, of whom I have often spoken to you, who you know +manage all my money affairs for me.</i></p> + +<p><i>This letter informs me that I am ruined. You quite +understand—absolutely, completely ruined.</i></p> + +<p><i>The house I am living in, my carriage, the luxurious surroundings +so necessary to me, I shall have to give it all up, so they tell +me.</i></p> + +<p><i>These people have dealt me a terrible blow, struck me +brutally....</i></p> + +<p><i>My dear maître, I learned this only two hours ago, and I am still +stunned by it. I do not wish to wait for the inevitable moment when +I shall begin to console myself, because I shall begin to hope that +the disaster is exaggerated. I have no family, I am already old; +apart from the satisfaction it gives me to use my influence on +behalf of youthful talent, and to help forward its development, my +life has no sense in it, it is without aim or object. My dear +maître, there are not two ways of announcing to one's friends +resolutions analogous to that I now take: when you receive this +letter I shall be dead.</i></p> + +<p><i>I have in front of me, on my writing-table, a tiny phial of poison +which I am going to drink to the last drop, without any weakening +of will, almost without fear, as soon as I have posted this letter +to you myself.</i></p> + +<p><i>I must confess that I have an instinctive horror of being dragged +to the Morgue, as happens whenever there is some doubt about a +suicide. It is on account of this I now write to you, so that, +thanks to your intervention, all the mistakes justice is liable to +make may be avoided.</i></p> + +<p><i>I kill myself, I only; that is certain.</i></p> + +<p><i>No one must be incriminated in connection with my death, if it be +not Fatality, which has caused my ruin. I once more apologise, my +dear maître, for all the measures you will be forced to take owing +to my death, and I beg you to believe that my friendship for you +was very sincere:</i></p> + +<p><i>Signed:</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Baroness de Vibray</span>."</p></div> + +<p>"Good for you!" cried Fandor. "Here's a go! What a pretty petard in +prospect!... Jacques Dollon was innocent; you arrest him; he is so +terrified that he hangs himself! Well, old boy, I must say you make some +fine blunders on Clock Quay!"</p> + +<p>"It is nobody's fault!" protested the young barrister.</p> + +<p>"That is to say," retorted Fandor, "it is everybody's fault! By Jove! If +you let innocent prisoners hang themselves in their cells, I am no +longer surprised that you leave the guilty at liberty to walk the +streets at their sweet will!"</p> + +<p>"Don't make a joke of it, old boy!... You understand, of course, that so +far no one in the Palais has seen the letter! It has just been brought +to the Public Prosecutor's office by Madame de Vibray's solicitor, +Maître Gérin. You came on the scene only a few minutes after I had sent +up the original to the examining magistrate. The case is in Fuselier's +hands."</p> + +<p>"Is he in his office?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly! He should proceed with the examination relative to poor +Dollon this morning."</p> + +<p>"Very well then, I will go up. I shall jolly soon get out of this booby +of a Fuselier the information I need to make one of the best reports I +have ever written. And you know, I am ever so obliged to you for the +matter you've given me! But, mind you, I am going to put together a bit +of copy that will not deal tenderly with our gentlemen of the robe—the +lot of you! No, it is a bad, unlucky business enough, but it is even +more funny—it is tragi-comedy!"</p> + +<p>"For my part ..." began Fandor's barrister friend.</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes! Good day, Pontius Pilate!" cried Fandor. "I am going up to +Fuselier.... We must meet to-morrow!"</p> + +<p>Hastening along the corridors, Fandor gained the office of the examining +magistrate.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Fandor had known the magistrate a long while. Was not Fuselier the +justice who, with Detective Juve, had had everything to do with the +strangely mysterious cases associated with the name of Fantômas? In the +course of his various judicial examinations he had often been able to +give Fandor information and help. At first hostile to the constant +preoccupation of Juve and Fandor—for long the arrest of Fantômas was +their one aim—the young magistrate had gradually come to believe in +what had seemed to him nothing but the detective's hypothesis. +Open-minded, gifted with an alert intelligence, Fuselier had carefully +followed the investigations of Juve and Fandor. He knew every detail, +every vicissitude connected with the tracking of this elusive bandit. +Since then the magistrate had taken the deepest interest in the pursuit +of the criminal. Thanks to his support, Juve had been enabled to take +various measures, otherwise almost impossible, avoid the many obstacles +offered by legal procedure, risk the striking of many a blow he could +not otherwise have ventured on.</p> + +<p>Fuselier had a high opinion of Juve, and his attitude to Fandor was +sympathetic.</p> + +<p>Our journalist was going over the past as he hastened along:</p> + +<p>Ah, if only Juve were here! If only this loyal servant of Justice, this +sincerest of friends, this bravest of the brave, had not been struck +down, Fandor would have been full of enthusiasm for the Dollon affair; +for its interest was increasing, its mystery deepening! But Fandor was +single-handed now! He had had a miraculous escape from the bomb which +had blown up Lady Beltham's house on that tragic day when Juve had all +but laid hands on Fantômas!</p> + +<p>But Fandor would not allow himself to become disheartened—never that! +In the school of his vanished friend he had learned to give himself up +with single-minded devotion to any task he took up; his sole +satisfaction being duty well fulfilled.... Well, the Dollon case should +be cleared up!... To do so was to render a service to humanity! Having +come to this conclusion he hastened to interview Monsieur Fuselier.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"Monsieur Fuselier," cried Fandor as he shook hands with the magistrate, +"you must know quite well why I have come to see you!"</p> + +<p>"About the rue Norvins affair?"</p> + +<p>"Say rather about the Dépôt affair! It is there the affair became +tragic."</p> + +<p>Monsieur Fuselier smiled:</p> + +<p>"You know then?"</p> + +<p>"That Jacques Dollon has hanged himself? Yes. That he was innocent? +Again, yes!" confessed Fandor, smiling in his turn: "You know that at +<i>La Capitale</i> we get all the information going, and are the first to get +it!"</p> + +<p>"Evidently," conceded the magistrate. "But if you know all about it, why +put my professional discretion to the torture by asking absurd +questions?"</p> + +<p>"Now, what the deuce are they about on Clock Quay? Don't they supervise +the accused in their cells?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly they do! When this Dollon arrived at the Dépôt he was +immediately conducted to Monsieur Bertillon: there he was measured and +tested, finger marks taken, and so on."</p> + +<p>"Just so," said Fandor. "I saw Bertillon before coming on to you. He +told me Dollon seemed crushed: he submitted to all the tests without +making the slightest objection; but he never spoke of suicide, never +said anything which could lead one to imagine such a fatal termination."</p> + +<p>"Well, he would not cry it aloud on the housetops!... When he left +Monsieur Bertillon, what then?"</p> + +<p>"After!... Oh, the police took him to a cell, and left him there. At +midnight the chief warder made his rounds and saw nothing abnormal. It +was in the morning they found this unfortunate Dollon had hanged +himself."</p> + +<p>"What did he hang himself with?"</p> + +<p>"With strips of his shirt twisted into a rope.... Oh, my dear fellow, I +see what you are thinking! You fancy that there has been a want of +common prudence—that the warders were lax—that they had let him retain +his braces, his cravat or his shoe laces!... Well, it was not +so—precautions were taken."</p> + +<p>"And this suicide remains incomprehensible!"</p> + +<p>"Well!... This wretched youth must have been ferociously energetic, +because he had fastened these shirt ropes of his to the iron bars of his +bed, and strangled himself by lying on his back. Death must have been +long in coming to release him from his agony."</p> + +<p>"Can I not see him?" asked Fandor.</p> + +<p>"Why not photograph him?" asked the magistrate in a bantering tone.</p> + +<p>"Oh, if it were possible!..." Fandor stopped short. A youth knocked and +entered:</p> + +<p>"A lady, who wishes to see you, monsieur."</p> + +<p>"Tell her I am too busy."</p> + +<p>"She asked me to say that it is urgent."</p> + +<p>"Ask her name."</p> + +<p>"Here is her card, monsieur."</p> + +<p>Monsieur Fuselier looked at the card: he started!</p> + +<p>"Elizabeth Dollon!... Ah ... Good Heavens, what am I to say to this poor +girl? How am I to tell her?"</p> + +<p>Just then the door was pushed violently open, and a girl, in tears, +rushed towards him:</p> + +<p>"Monsieur, where is my brother?"</p> + +<p>"But, mademoiselle!..."</p> + +<p>Whilst the magistrate mechanically asked his distracted visitor to sit +down, Jérôme Fandor discreetly withdrew to the further side of the room; +he was anxious that the magistrate should forget his presence, so that +he might be a witness of what promised to be a most exciting interview.</p> + +<p>"Pray control yourself, mademoiselle," begged the magistrate. "Your +brother has perhaps been arrested through a mistake...."</p> + +<p>"Oh, monsieur, I am sure of it, but it is frightful!"</p> + +<p>"Mademoiselle, the dreadful thing would be that he was guilty."</p> + +<p>"But they have not set him at liberty yet? He has not been able to clear +himself?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, mademoiselle, he has vindicated himself, I even ..." Monsieur +Fuselier stopped short, intensely pained, not knowing how to tell +Elizabeth Dollon the terrible news.</p> + +<p>At once she cried: "Ah, monsieur, you hesitate! You have learned +something fresh? You are on the track of the assassins?"</p> + +<p>"It is certain ... your brother is not guilty!"</p> + +<p>The poor girl's countenance suddenly brightened. She had passed a +horrible night after her return to Paris, and the receipt of the wire +from Police Headquarters.</p> + +<p>"What a nightmare!" she cried. "But the telegram said he was +injured—nothing serious, is it?... Where is he now? Can I see him?"</p> + +<p>"Mademoiselle," said the magistrate, "your brother has had a terrible +shock!... It would be better!... I fear that!..."</p> + +<p>Suddenly Elizabeth Dollon cried:</p> + +<p>"Oh, monsieur, how you said that! How can seeing me do him harm?"</p> + +<p>As Monsieur Fuselier did not reply, she burst into tears:</p> + +<p>"You are hiding something from me! The papers said this morning that he +also was a victim! Swear to me that he is not?"</p> + +<p>"But ..."</p> + +<p>"You <i>are</i> hiding something from me!" The poor girl was frantic with +terror: she wrung her hands in a state of despair: "Where is he? I must +see him! Oh, take pity on me!"</p> + +<p>As she watched the magistrate's downcast look, his air of discomfiture, +the horrid truth flashed on Elizabeth Dollon:</p> + +<p>"Dead!" she cried. She was shaken with sobs.</p> + +<p>"Mademoiselle!... Oh, mademoiselle!" implored the magistrate, filled +with pity. He tried to find some words of consolation, and this +confirmed her worst fears:</p> + +<p>"I swear to you!... It is certain your brother was not guilty!"</p> + +<p>The distracted girl was beyond listening to the magistrate's words! +Huddled up in an arm-chair, she lay inert, collapsed. Presently she rose +like a person moving in some mad dream, her eyes wild:</p> + +<p>"Take me to him!... I want to see him! They have killed him for me!... I +must see him!"</p> + +<p>Such was her insistence, the violence with which she claimed the right +to go to her brother, to kneel beside him, that Monsieur Fuselier dared +not refuse her this consolation.</p> + +<p>"Control yourself, I beg of you! I am going to take you to him; but, for +Heaven's sake, be reasonable! Control yourself!"</p> + +<p>With his eyes he sought for the moral support of Fandor, whose presence +he suddenly remembered. But our journalist, taking advantage of the +momentary confusion, had quietly slipped from the room.</p> + +<p>Evidently some unpleasant occurrence had upset the routine existence of +the functionaries at the Dépôt. The warders were coming and going, +talking among themselves, leaning against the doors of the numerous +cells. The chief warder called one of his men:</p> + +<p>"There must be no more of this disorder, Nibet!"</p> + +<p>The chief warder was furious: he was about to hold forth to his +subordinate, when an inspector approached.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Sergeant, it is Monsieur Jouet. He has a gentleman with him. He has a +permit. Should I allow him to enter?"</p> + +<p>"Who? Monsieur Jouet?"</p> + +<p>"No, the gentleman accompanying him!"</p> + +<p>"Hang it all! Why, yes—if he has a permit!"</p> + +<p>The sergeant moved away shrugging his shoulders disgustedly.</p> + +<p>"Not pleased with things this morning, the chief isn't," one of the +warders remarked.</p> + +<p>"Not likely, after last night's performance!"</p> + +<p>"It's he who will catch it hot over this business!" The warder rubbed +his hands, laughing.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, Fandor had appeared at the entrance of the corridor, under +the guidance of a warder. He was thinking of the splendid copy he had +secured: he was hoping that when Fuselier learned that a journalist had +obtained admittance to the Dépôt, and had seen the corpse of Jacques +Dollon in his cell, that he would not turn vicious: "But after all," +said he to himself, "Fuselier is not the man to give me the go-by out of +spite."</p> + +<p>Fandor walked up and down the hall of the prison. He had informed the +warders that he was waiting for the magistrate. "How strange life is!" +thought he. "To think that once again I should be brought into close +contact with Elizabeth Dollon, and that there is no likelihood of her +recognising me—we were such children when we parted—she especially! +Had she any recollection of the little rascal I was at the time of poor +Madame de Langrune's assassination?" And, closing his eyes, Fandor tried +to call to mind the features of the Jacques Dollon he used to know: it +was useless! The body of Jacques Dollon he would be gazing at in a few +minutes would be that of an unknown person, whose name alone awakened +memories of bygone days....</p> + +<p>So to pass the time Fandor continued his marching up and down.</p> + +<p>Monsieur Fuselier appeared at the entrance to the Dépôt, supporting the +unsteady steps of poor Elizabeth Dollon. Fandor quickly drew back into +an obscure corner:</p> + +<p>"Better not attract attention to myself just at present," thought +Fandor; "I will wait until the cell door is opened. If Fuselier does +not wish to give me permission to remain, I can at any rate cast a rapid +glance round that ill-omened little cell!"</p> + +<p>Fandor followed, at a distance, the wavering steps of the poor girl whom +Monsieur Fuselier was supporting with fatherly care.</p> + +<p>When they paused before one of the cells pointed out by the head warder, +Monsieur Fuselier turned to Elizabeth Dollon:</p> + +<p>"Do you think you are strong enough to bear this trial, mademoiselle?... +You are determined to see your brother?"</p> + +<p>Elizabeth bent her head; the magistrate turned towards the warder:</p> + +<p>"Open," said he. As the key was turned in the lock he said: "According +to instructions from the Head, we have placed him on his bed again.... +There is nothing to frighten you ... he seems to be asleep.... Now +then!"</p> + +<p>But as he opened the door, stretching his arm in the direction of the +bed where the body of Jacques Dollon should be, an oath escaped him:</p> + +<p>"Great Heavens! The dead man is gone!"</p> + +<p>In this cell with its bare walls, its sole furniture an iron bedstead +and a stool riveted to the floor, in this little cell which the eye +could glance round in a second, there was no vestige of a corpse: +Jacques Dollon's body was not there!</p> + +<p>"You have mistaken the cell," said the magistrate sharply.</p> + +<p>"No, no!" cried the astounded warder.</p> + +<p>"You can see, can't you, that Jacques Dollon is not there?"</p> + +<p>"He was there a few minutes ago!"</p> + +<p>"Then they must have taken him somewhere else!"</p> + +<p>"The keys have never left me!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, come now!"</p> + +<p>"No, sir. He was there ... now he isn't there! That's all I know!... +Hey! You down there!" yelled the warder: "Who knows what has become of +the corpse of cell 12?... The corpse we laid out just now?"</p> + +<p>One after the other the warders came running. All confirmed what their +chief had said: the dead body of Jacques Dollon had been left there, +lying on the bed: not a soul had entered the cell: not a soul had +touched the corpse!... Yet it was no longer there! Jérôme Fandor, well +in the background, followed the scene with an ironical smile. The +frantic warders, the growing stupefaction of Monsieur Fuselier, amused +him prodigiously. The magistrate was trying to understand the how, why, +and wherefore of this incredible disappearance:</p> + +<p>"As this man is not here, he cannot have been dead ... he has escaped +... but if he wanted to escape he must have been guilty!... Oh, I cannot +make head or tail of it!"</p> + +<p>Seizing the head warder by the shoulders, almost roughly, Monsieur +Fuselier asked:</p> + +<p>"Look here, chief, was this man dead, or was he not?"</p> + +<p>Elizabeth Dollon was repeating:</p> + +<p>"He lives! He lives!" and laughing wildly.</p> + +<p>The warder raised his hand as though taking a solemn oath:</p> + +<p>"As to being dead, he was dead right enough!... The doctor will tell you +so, too: also my colleague, Favril, who helped me to lay out the body on +the bed."</p> + +<p>"But how can a dead body get away from here? If he <i>was</i> dead, he could +not have escaped!" said the magistrate.</p> + +<p>"It is witchcraft!" declared the warder, with a shrug.</p> + +<p>Fuselier flew into a rage:</p> + +<p>"Had you not better confess that you and your colleagues did not keep +proper watch and ward!... The investigation will show on whose shoulders +the responsibility rests."</p> + +<p>"But, sakes alive, monsieur!" expostulated the warder: "There aren't +only two of us who have seen him dead!... There are all the hospital +attendants of the Dépôt as well!... There is the doctor, and there are +my colleagues to be counted in: the truth is, monsieur, some fifty +persons have seen him dead!"</p> + +<p>"So you say!" cried the impatient magistrate: "I am going to inform the +Public Prosecutor of what has happened, and at once!"</p> + +<p>As he was hurrying away, he spied Jérôme Fandor, who had not missed a +single detail of the scene.</p> + +<p>"You again!" exclaimed the irate magistrate: "How did you get in here?"</p> + +<p>"By permit," replied our journalist.</p> + +<p>"Well, you have learned what there is to know, haven't you? Be off, +then! You are one too many here!... Frankly, there is no need for you to +augment the scandal!... Will you, therefore, be kind enough to take +yourself off?" And Fuselier, almost beside himself with rage, raced off +to the Public Prosecutor's office.</p> + +<p>After the magistrate's furious attack, Fandor could not possibly linger +in the corridors of the Dépôt. The warders, too, were pressing their +attentions on him and on Elizabeth Dollon:</p> + +<p>"This way, monsieur!... Madame, this way!... Ah, it's a wretched +business!... Here, this way! This way!... Be off, as fast as you can!"</p> + +<p>Presently Fandor was descending the grand staircase of the Palais, +steadying the uncertain steps of poor Elizabeth Dollon.</p> + +<p>"I implore you to help me!" she cried: "Help me: help us! My brother is +guiltless—I could swear to that!... He must—must be found!... This +hideous nightmare must end!"</p> + +<p>"Mademoiselle, I ask nothing better, only ... where to find him?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, I have no idea, none!... I implore you, you who must know +influential people in high places, do not leave any stone unturned, do +all that is humanly possible to save him—to save us!"</p> + +<p>Intensely moved by the poor girl's anguish of mind, Fandor could not +trust himself to speak. He bent his head in the affirmative merely. +Hailing a cab, he put her into it, gave the address to the driver, and +as he was closing the door Elizabeth cried:</p> + +<p>"Do all that is humanly possible—do everything in the world!"</p> + +<p>"I swear to you I will get at the truth," was Fandor's parting promise. +The cab had disappeared, but our journalist stood motionless, absorbed +in his reflections. At last, uttering his thoughts aloud, he said:</p> + +<p>"If the Baroness de Vibray has written that she has killed herself, then +she has killed herself, and Dollon is innocent. It's true the letter may +be fictitious ... therefore we must put it aside—we have no guarantee +as to its genuineness.... Here is the problem: Jacques Dollon is dead, +and yet has left the Dépôt! Yes, but how?"</p> + +<p>Jérôme Fandor went off in the direction of the offices of <i>La Capitale</i> +so absorbed in thought that he jostled the passers-by, without noticing +the angry glances bestowed on him:</p> + +<p>"Jacques Dollon, dead, has left the Dépôt!" He repeated this improbable +statement, so absurd, of necessity incorrect; repeated it to the point +of satiety:</p> + +<p>"Jacques Dollon is dead, and he has got away from the Dépôt!"</p> + +<p>Then, in an illuminating flash, he perceived the solution of this +apparently insoluble problem:</p> + +<p>"A mystery such as this is incomprehensible, inexplicable, impossible, +except in connection with one man! There is only one individual in the +world capable of making a dead man seem to be alive after his death—and +this individual is—Fantômas!"</p> + +<p>To formulate this conclusion was to give himself a thrilling shock.... +Since the disappearance of Juve, he had never had occasion to suspect +the presence, the intervention of Fantômas in connection with any of +the crimes he had investigated as reporter and student of human nature.</p> + +<p>Fantômas! The sound of that name evoked the worst horrors! Fantômas! +This bandit, this criminal who has not shrunk from any cruelty, any +horror—Fantômas is crime personified!</p> + +<p>Fantômas! He sticks at nothing!</p> + +<p>Pronouncing these syllables of evil omen, Fandor lived over again all +the extraordinary, improbable, impossible things that had really +happened, and had put him on the watch for this terrifying assassin.</p> + +<p>Fantômas!</p> + +<p>It was certain that to whatever degree he had participated in the +assassination of the Baroness de Vibray, one must not be astonished at +anything; neither at anything inconceivable, nor at any mysterious +details connected with the murder.</p> + +<p>Fantômas!</p> + +<p>He was the daring criminal—daring beyond all bounds of credibility. And +whatever might be the dexterity, the ingenuity, the ability, the +devotion of those who were pursuing him, such were his tricks, such his +craft and cunning, such the fertility of his invention, so well +conceived his devices, so great his audacity, that there were grounds +for fearing he would never be brought to justice, and punished for his +abominable crimes!</p> + +<p>Fantômas!</p> + +<p>Ah, if life ever brought Jérôme Fandor and this bandit face to face, +there would ensue a struggle of every hour, day, and moment—a struggle +of the most terrible nature, a struggle in which man was pitted against +man, a struggle without pity, without mercy—a fight to the death! +Fantômas would assuredly defend himself with all the immense elusive +powers at his command: Jérôme Fandor would pursue him with heart and +soul, with his very life itself! It was not only to satisfy his sense of +duty at the promptings of honour that the journalist would take action: +he would have as guide for his acts, and to animate his will, the +passion of hate, and the hope of avenging his friend Juve, fallen a +victim to the mysterious blows of Fantômas.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>In his article for <i>La Capitale</i> Fandor did not directly mention the +possible participation of Fantômas in the crime of the rue Norvins. When +it was finished he returned to his modest little flat on the fifth floor +in the rue Bergere. He was about to enter the vestibule, when he noticed +a piece of paper, which must have been slipped under his door. He +stooped and picked up an envelope:</p> + +<p>"Why, it is a letter—and there is no name and no stamp on it!"</p> + +<p>Entering his study, he seated himself at his table and prepared to begin +work. Then he bethought him of the letter, which he had carelessly +thrown on the mantelpiece. He tore it open, and drew out a sheet of +letter paper.</p> + +<p>"Whatever is this?" he cried. His astonishment was natural enough, for +the message was oddly put together. To prevent his handwriting being +recognised, Fandor's correspondent had cut letters out of a newspaper, +and had stuck them together in the desired order. The two or three lines +of printed matter were as follows:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Jérôme Fandor, pay attention, great attention! The affair on which +you are concentrating all your powers is worthy of all possible +interest, but may have terribly dangerous consequences."</p></div> + +<p>Of course there was no signature.</p> + +<p>Evidently the warning referred to the Dollon case.</p> + +<p>"Why," exclaimed Fandor, "this is simply an invitation not to busy +myself hunting for the guilty persons!... Who has sent this invitation +and warning? Surely the sender is the assassin, to whose interest it is +that the inquiry into the rue Norvins murder should be dropped!... It +must be Jacques Dollon!... But how could Dollon know my address? How +could he have found time between his flight from the Dépôt and the +present minute, to put this message of printed letters together, and +take it to the rue Bergere?... And that at the risk of encountering +someone who could recognise him, and might have him arrested afresh? Had +he accomplices?"</p> + +<p>Fandor was puzzled, agitated:</p> + +<p>"But I am mad!... mad! It cannot be Dollon!... Dollon is dead—dead as a +door nail—dead beyond dispute, because fifty men have seen him dead; +dead, because the Dépôt doctors have certified his death!"</p> + +<p>Daylight was fading; evening was coming on; Fandor was still turning the +whole affair over in his mind. Every now and again he murmured:</p> + +<p>"Fantômas! Fantômas has to do with this extraordinary, this mysterious +affair! Fantômas is in it!... Fantômas!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="IV" id="IV"></a>IV</h2> + +<h3>A SURPRISING ITINERARY</h3> + + +<p>Jérôme Fandor had passed a bad night!</p> + +<p>Visions of horror had continually arisen in his troubled mind. Between +nightmare after nightmare he had heard all the horrors of the night +sound out in the darkness and the glimmering dawn. Then he had fallen +into a heavy sleep, which had left him on awaking broken with fatigue. +He had given himself a cold douche, and this had calmed his nerves; then +he had dressed quickly. When eight o'clock struck he was at his +writing-table, thinking things over:</p> + +<p>"It's no laughing matter. I thought at first that the Dollon affair was +quite ordinary; but I am mistaken. The warning I received last night +leaves me no doubts on that head. Since the guilty person thinks it +necessary to ask me to keep quiet, it is evident he fears my +intervention; if he is afraid of that it is because it must be hurtful +to him; if disastrous to him, a criminal, it is evident that it must be +useful to honest folk. My duty, then, is to go straight ahead at all +costs...."</p> + +<p>There was another motive besides this of duty which incited him to +follow more closely the vicissitudes of the rue Norvins drama, a motive +still indefinite, vague, but nevertheless terribly strong....</p> + +<p>Jérôme Fandor had sworn to Elizabeth Dollon that he would get at the +truth.</p> + +<p>He recalled the girl's entreaty, her emotion; and when he closed his +eyes, now and again, he seemed to see before him the tall, graceful, +fair and fascinating sister of the vanished artist.... All Fandor would +admit to himself was a chivalrous feeling towards her—Elizabeth Dollon +was worth putting himself out for—that was all!</p> + +<p>Our journalist spent the entire morning seated at his writing-table, his +head between his hands, smoking cigarette after cigarette, arranging his +plans for investigating the Dollon case:</p> + +<p>"What I have to find out is how the dead man left the Dépôt. It is the +first discovery to be made, the first impossibility to be +explained—yes, and how am I to set about it?"</p> + +<p>Suddenly Fandor jumped up, marched rapidly up and down his room, +whistled a few bars of a popular melody, and in his exuberant gaiety +attempted an operatic air in a voice deplorably out of tune.</p> + +<p>"There are eighty chances out of a hundred that I shall not succeed," +cried he; "but that still leaves me twenty chances of arriving at a +satisfactory result—let us make the attempt!"</p> + +<p>As Fandor was hurrying off, he called to the portress in passing:</p> + +<p>"Madame Oudry, I don't know whether I shall be back this evening or no. +Perhaps I may have to leave Paris for awhile, so would you be kind +enough to pay particular attention to any letters that may come for +me—be very particular about them, please!"</p> + +<p>Fandor went off. A thought struck him. He turned back. He had something +more to say to the good woman:</p> + +<p>"I forgot to ask you whether anyone called to see me yesterday +afternoon!"</p> + +<p>"No, Monsieur Fandor, no one!"</p> + +<p>"Good! If by any chance a messenger should bring a letter for me, look +very carefully at him, Madame Oudry. I have a colleague or two who are +playing a joke on me, and I should not be sorry to get even with them!"</p> + +<p>This time Fandor really went off, having set his portress on the alert. +In the rue Montmartre he hailed a cab:</p> + +<p>"To the National Library! And as quick as you can!"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"By Jove! It's three o'clock! I've not a minute to lose!" cried Fandor +as he got back his stick from the cloak-room of the National Library: he +had handed it in there some hours ago. He entered the rue Richelieu. Now +for an ironmonger's shop! He caught sight of one and went in:</p> + +<p>"I should like fifty yards of fine cord, please; very strong and very +pliable," said Fandor.</p> + +<p>The shopkeeper stared at the smart young man:</p> + +<p>"What do you want it for, sir?... I have various qualities."</p> + +<p>Without the trace of a smile, and as if it were the most natural thing +in the world, he replied:</p> + +<p>"It is for one of my friends: he wants to hang himself!"</p> + +<p>A shout of laughter was the response to this witticism, and the amused +shopkeeper forthwith displayed various samples of cords. Fandor promptly +made his choice and left the shop.</p> + +<p>"Now for a watchmaker's!" said our journalist. He entered a jeweller's +close by:</p> + +<p>"I want an alarum clock—a small one—the cheapest you have!"</p> + +<p>Provided with his alarum, Fandor looked at his watch again:</p> + +<p>"Confound it all! It's half-past three!" he cried. He signalled to a +closed cab:</p> + +<p>"To the Palais de Justice! As hard as you can lick!"</p> + +<p>Directly Fandor was well inside the vehicle, he drew down the blinds; +took off his coat; unbuttoned his waistcoat!...</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The great clock of the Palais de Justice had just struck four, and its +silvery tones were echoing harmoniously along the corridors when Jérôme +Fandor entered the tradesman's gallery. He turned to the right, and +gained the little lobby in which the cloak-room is. He quietly entered +it. Barristers were coming and going, full of business, throwing off +their gowns, inspecting the letters put aside during the sittings of the +Courts. Fandor made his way among the groups with the ease of custom. He +seemed to be looking for someone, and finished by questioning one of the +women employed in the cloak-room:</p> + +<p>"Is Madame Marguerite not here?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, monsieur, she is down below."</p> + +<p>Madame Marguerite was an old friend of Fandor's. She was head of the +cloak-room staff, and by her kind offices she had often obtained an +interview for our journalist with one or other of the big-wigs of the +bar, who generally object strongly to being questioned by journalists. +When she appeared, Fandor told her he only wanted a little bit of +information from her.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, I know all about that! There is someone you wish to see, and +you want me to manage it for you!"</p> + +<p>"No! Not a bit of it! What I want to know is, where these gentlemen of +the Court of Justice robe and unrobe? I mean the Justices of the Assize +Courts!"</p> + +<p>This seemed to astonish Madame Marguerite considerably:</p> + +<p>"But, Monsieur Fandor, if you wish to interview one of the puisne +judges, it would be ten times quicker for you to go and see him at his +own home: here, at the Palais, it's almost certain he will refuse to +answer you...."</p> + +<p>"Don't bother about that, Madame Marguerite! Just tell me where these +worthy guardians of order, defenders of right and justice, divest +themselves of their red robes?"</p> + +<p>Madame Marguerite was too much accustomed to our young journalist's +ridiculous questions and absurd requests and remarks to argue with him +any longer.</p> + +<p>"The robing-room of these gentlemen," said she, "is in one of the outer +offices of the court, near the Council Chamber."</p> + +<p>"There is an assistant in that room, isn't there?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Monsieur Fandor."</p> + +<p>"Ah! That is just what I wanted to know! Many thanks, madame," and +Fandor, grinning with satisfaction, made off in the direction of the +Court of Assizes. He ran up the steps leading to the Council Chamber, +and spying the messenger asked:</p> + +<p>"Can President Guéchand see me, do you think?"</p> + +<p>"Monsieur le President has gone."</p> + +<p>Fandor seemed to be reflecting. He gazed searchingly round the room. As +a matter of fact, he was verifying the correctness of Madame +Marguerite's information. All round the room Fandor saw the little +presses where the men of law kept their red robes. Yes, it was the +robing and unrobing room of the puisne judges, the magistrates, right +enough!</p> + +<p>"So the President has gone? Ah, well ..." Fandor hesitated: he must +think of some other name. He noticed the visiting cards nailed to each +press, indicating the owner. He read one of the names and repeated it:</p> + +<p>"Well, then, could Justice Hubert see me—could he possibly? Will you +ask him to let me see him for five minutes?"</p> + +<p>"What name shall I say?"</p> + +<p>"My name will not tell him anything. Please say it is with reference to +the—er—Peyru case—and I come from Maître Tissot."</p> + +<p>"I will go and see," said the messenger, moving off.</p> + +<p>Whilst he was in sight Fandor walked up and down in the regulation way, +murmuring:</p> + +<p>"Maître Tissot!... The Peyru case!... Go ahead, my good fellow! You will +have a nice kind of reception down below there—with those made-up +names."</p> + +<p>Some minutes later, the messenger returned to his post, prepared to +inform the importunate young man that he could not possibly be received +by Justice Hubert. He stopped short on the threshold: not a soul was to +be seen!</p> + +<p>"Wherever has that young man got to? Taken himself off, most likely!... +I expect he was one of those lawyer's clerks—confound them! A nice fool +I should have looked if his Honour, Justice Hubert, had said he would +receive him!"</p> + +<p>With this reflection the messenger went back to his newspaper, not +without having ascertained that it was four o'clock, and therefore he +had still an hour to wait before he could have his coffee and cigar at +the "Men of the Robe."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Through the great windows of the Court of Assizes, carefully closed as +they were, not a ray of moonlight filtered into the court room. And this +obscurity lent an added terror to a silence as profound as the grave, a +silence which, with the falling shades of night, assumed possession of +the vast hall, where so many criminals had listened to the fatal +sentence—the sentence of death.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>When the Court had risen, the assistants had, as usual, proceeded to put +the place in order; then the police sergeant had made his rounds, and +had gone away, double locking the doors behind him. After this the +chamber had gradually sunk into complete repose: a repose which would be +broken the following morning when the bustling routine of the legal day +commenced once more.</p> + +<p>Little by little, too, the many and varied noises, which had echoed and +re-echoed the whole day through in the galleries of the Palais de +Justice, had died down, and sunk into silence.</p> + +<p>The custodians had made their last round; the barristers had quitted the +robing-room; the poor wretches who had slunk in to warm themselves at +the heating apparatus in the halls had shuffled back to the cold +street, and the whistling blasts of the north wind. The immense pile was +entirely deserted.</p> + +<p>A clock began to strike.</p> + +<p>Then, hardly had the last stroke of eleven sounded, awakening the echoes +of the empty galleries, than in the Court of Assizes itself, under the +monumental desk, before which the justices sat in state by day, a noise +made itself heard, long, strident, nerve-racking—the noise of an alarum +clock!</p> + +<p>Just as the alarum ceased its raucous call, a loud yawn resounded +through the empty spaces of the chamber. The sleeper, who had selected +this spot that he might indulge, all undisturbed, in a revivifying +sleep, evidently took no pains to smother the sound of his voice, for, +after yawning enough to dislocate his jaws, he uttered a loud: "Ah!" He +accompanied his yawns with exclamations:</p> + +<p>"It's a fact, the Republic doesn't do things up to the scratch! The rugs +here are of poor quality!... I'm aching all over!... The floor is strewn +with peach kernels—surely?... At any rate, it's a quiet hotel, and one +is not disturbed—a truly delectable refuge to have a jolly good snore +in!"</p> + +<p>The sleeper sat up:</p> + +<p>"What's the time exactly? Let us have a light on it!" A match was +struck, and a tiny flare of light shone from under the desk of the +presiding judge:</p> + +<p>"Ten past eleven! I've still five minutes to be lazy in—and I shall +need all of it, for I've a rough night before me! I can rest awhile, and +think things over!"</p> + +<p>The speaker calmly lay down again, trying to find a comfortable position +on what he christened mentally: "The administrative peach kernels":</p> + +<p>"Let me see, now!" he went on aloud. "At five in the afternoon it was +known that Jacques Dollon had committed suicide; was probably innocent, +and that his corpse had disappeared. Yesterday, at half-past five, <i>La +Capitale</i> announced that he had a very pretty sister.... To-night at +ten past eleven behold me, shut up quite alone in the Palais de Justice, +free to proceed to the little investigation I think of making.... Jérôme +Fandor, my dear friend, I congratulate you! You have not managed +badly!...</p> + +<p>"Yes," went on our journalist, "what a joke it is! Here have I got +myself shut up in the Palais without the slightest difficulty! It is +true, that if the assistant had been obliged to open, and verify, the +contents of all the robing-rooms of all the judges, he would never have +finished. As for me, in my cupboard, I followed all the good fellow's +movements, and he never suspected my presence. If I am to be +congratulated, he cannot be blamed for it! There I was, there I +remained, and now I must be off!"</p> + +<p>Fandor drew a small wax taper from his pocket and lighted it with a +match.</p> + +<p>"What's to be done with the alarum?" he went on. "To leave it will be to +betray my having passed this way—what of it?... In any case, even if +this reporting job fails, I shall make a story out of it ... and how can +they accuse me of stealing if I leave my cloak as a gift for his +judgeship!"</p> + +<p>Laughing, Fandor piled up the law books lying on the desk, and placed +the alarum on the top; that done, he went to the principal entrance, the +only one with double doors. He seized the heavy iron bar placed across +the door and worked it loose. He drew the two leaves of the door towards +him; and, although it had been locked as usual, he effected his escape, +after a considerable trial of strength.</p> + +<p>Out on the stairs, lighted taper in hand, the laughing Fandor closed the +two leaves of the door with the utmost care, and went forward whistling +a marching tune. His objective was a certain little staircase leading to +the top story of the Palais, and this he mounted with vigorous +determination. There was no likelihood of chance encounters, for there +was not a soul in the vast building: the police were making their rounds +outside it. Our adventurous journalist did not make his way upwards with +stealthy tread—there was no need for that. Having gained the top floor, +he went straight to a corner where an ebony ladder was ensconced, a +ladder which had long been the joy and pride of the grand master of this +part of the Palais, the amiable Monsieur Peter.</p> + +<p>"Pretty heavy!" grumbled Fandor, as he carried it upwards. Under the +roof he caught sight of a skylight, rested his ebony ladder against it, +and climbed briskly on to the roof.</p> + +<p>From thence Fandor had a view that was fairy-like. Spread out in the +distance were the sparkling lights of Paris. He was divided from them by +the vast mass of roofs about him, by a gulf of empty space, and beyond, +by a dark blur—the two arms of the Seine flowing on either side of the +Palais de Justice.... The mysterious darkness! The fascination of the +sparkling points of light!... Fandor gave himself a mental shake.... +This was no moment for dreaming under the stars!</p> + +<p>From his pocket he took a tiny, folding dark lantern; from his +pocket-book he drew a paper, which he spread out and proceeded to study. +As he bent over it, he murmured:</p> + +<p>"A bit of good luck that I was able to get hold of a complete and +detailed plan of the Palais de Justice! Without it I never could have +found my way among these roofs!"</p> + +<p>He examined the plan for some minutes; made a note of various landmarks; +then refolding it, he gained one of the sloping roofs facing the quay of +the Leather Dressers:</p> + +<p>"Now," thought Fandor, "I must be just above the Dépôt! And now to find +out how Jacques Dollon, dead or living, has got out of the Dépôt! No use +thinking of a window, for the cell has not got one! Fuselier has reason +on his side when he declares that you do not get out of the cells of the +Dépôt, nor out of the Palais!... Well, now—to carry off Dollon, dead +or living, by way of the Palais Square, or by the boulevard, is out of +the question: there are too many people about!... To carry him off by +one of the exits, on to either of the quays, is equally out of the +question: there are the sentries, in the first place, and then comes the +Seine—then Jacques Dollon has left the Dépôt, or he has not, or, at any +rate, he is still somewhere in the Palais—unless ..."</p> + +<p>Fandor interrupted his cogitations to light a cigarette: smoking helped +him to think things out:</p> + +<p>"It is equally certain that if Dollon is still in the Palais, he cannot +be in the Dépôt, for the Dépôt has been rigorously searched since his +disappearance, and he would most certainly have been found, had he been +anywhere about the Dépôt. It is also certain that he is not inside the +Palais, because the only means of communication between the Dépôt and +the Palais is a single staircase, and it is certain that a corpse could +not have been taken that way unperceived.... Then it follows that +Jacques Dollon must have got out by the only ways which are in +communication with the Dépôt: that is to say, the drains and the +chimneys!"</p> + +<p>"How could he have got out, or been got out by the drains? As far as I +know, there is no system of pipes large enough to allow of the passage +of a man through the pipes which join the main sewers; but, as a set-off +to that, there is a chimney—the ancient chimney of Marie +Antoinette—which communicates with the Dépôt, and the roof I am now on: +it must have been by this chimney that the escape was made! Let us see +whether this is so or not!"</p> + +<p>By the light of his tiny dark lantern Fandor studied afresh the plan of +the Palais, and tried to identify the various chimneys about him. He +soon picked out the orifice of Marie Antoinette's chimney. After a +considering glance at it, he remarked:</p> + +<p>"That's odd! Here is the only chimney whose opening is below the ledge +of the roofs! It is certain that unless one had been warned, and had +examined this roof from some neighbouring building, the orifice of this +chimney would not be noticed. If Jacques Dollon passed out by it, no one +would notice his exit!"</p> + +<p>Our journalist continued his examination, full of excitement. Surely he +was on the right track!</p> + +<p>"Ah! Ah! Here are stones freshly scraped and scratched!" he cried +delightedly. "And this white mark is just the kind of mark which would +be made by a cord scraping against the wall! And look what a size this +chimney is! It's not only one Jacques Dollon who could pass out by it, +but two! But three! A whole army! Ah, ha, I believe I am on the right +track! Now for it!"</p> + +<p>Fandor bent over and looked down the interior of the chimney; and, at +the risk of toppling over, he managed to reach something he saw shining +in the darkness of the opening; he drew himself up, radiant:</p> + +<p>"By Jove! There are irons fixed in the walls of the chimney to climb up +and down by; and, what is more, they bear traces of a recent +passage—the rust has been rubbed off here and there!... Yes, it is by +this way Dollon has come out!... To whom else could it be an advantage +to use this as an exit from the interior of the Palais, on to the +roofs?"</p> + +<p>Fandor was keen on the scent! Here, indeed, was matter for an article +which would bring him into notice—good business for a journalist!</p> + +<p>"If Dollon had been alive," reflected Fandor, "it is evident that, once +on the roofs, he had a choice of three ways to escape: he could do what +I have just done, but the other way about; he could break a skylight, +jump into a garret, and lie hidden under the tiles, awaiting the +propitious moment when he could gain the corridors below and, mingling +with the crowd, slip unobserved into the street; or, he could hide among +the roofs, and stay there; or, he could search for an opening—one of +those air holes which put the cellars and drains in communication with +the exterior.... But I have come to the conclusion that Dollon is dead! +Then his corpse could only remain up here; or, it has been put down into +some place where nobody goes. The garrets of the Palais are so +incessantly visited by the clerks and registrars that no corpse could +remain undiscovered in any of them. Therefore, either Jacques Dollon's +corpse is somewhere on the roofs of the Palais, or there is some sort of +communication between the roofs and the drains—it is obvious!"</p> + +<p>Evidently the next step was to search every hole and corner of these +same roofs. Armed with revolver and lantern, Fandor started on his tour +of investigation; but prudently, for he was now almost certain that +there were a number of accomplices involved in this Dollon affair.</p> + +<p>To go carefully over the enormous roof of the Palais de Justice was no +light task! One has only to consider the immensity of this monumental +pile, its complicated architecture, the numberless little courts +enclosed within its vast confines, to understand the difficulties with +which our intrepid journalist had to contend. But Jérôme Fandor was not +the man to be discouraged in the face of difficulties: he was determined +to brave them—conquer them! He examined, minutely, the entire roofing +of the Palais; he did not leave a corner or a morsel of shadow +unexplored; there was not a gutter which he had not searched from end to +end. When, after two hours of strenuous exertion, he returned to his +starting-point, the chimney of Marie Antoinette, he was fain to confess +that if Jacques Dollon had mounted to the roof of the Palais de Justice +he certainly had not remained there.</p> + +<p>Fandor unfolded his plan once more. It fluttered in the night breeze, as +he carefully numbered all the chimneys opening on to this roof; then, +one by one, he identified them with the real chimneys before his eyes. +He exclaimed joyfully:</p> + +<p>"There, now! It's just what I suspected!"</p> + +<p>He had discovered there was one chimney not down on the plan: "Whither +did it lead?" At all costs he must find out—make sure. He hastened to +this extra chimney. Its orifice was large enough to allow of the passage +of a man; also, here again, stones had been recently loosened, and a +rope had rubbed against them:</p> + +<p>"What the deuce is this chimney?" thought Fandor. "Another mystery! This +chimney is not a chimney; there is not a trace of soot on it, even old +soot!"</p> + +<p>After a moment's reflection, he added:</p> + +<p>"Can it be for ventilation only? But a ventilation hole could only +communicate with one of the apartments in the Palais itself, and how the +deuce could they drop a corpse down there? It would have been in the +highest degree imprudent to attempt it! No, it is not by that road they +have carried off Dollon's body! But then by what way?"</p> + +<p>He glued his ear to the chimney. After a while, Fandor could make out a +vague, intermittent sound—could catch a little, far-away, plashing +sound.</p> + +<p>"Can the chimney communicate with the Seine?" he asked himself. "No, we +are too far off it. Why this opening, then?... Ah, I have it! It is a +drain, a sewer, it communicates with!"</p> + +<p>To verify that, there was nothing for it but to descend this chimney, +which was no chimney! So be it!... Fandor took off his coat, and +uncovered the long, fine cord, rolled round and round his middle. +Weighting the cord with a flint, he let it slide down the chimney, +testing the straightness of the descent by the balanced oscillations of +the stone, and so ascertaining the even size of the opening, as far as +the line would go. This was the work of a few minutes.</p> + +<p>Fandor did not hesitate: he was eager to embark on the descent.</p> + +<p>"After all," he murmured, "though I may find myself face to face with a +band of assassins—what of it? It is all in the night's risks!"</p> + +<p>He fastened the end of the cord to one of the neighbouring +chimneys—fastened it firmly; then, his revolver handily stuck in his +belt, Fandor seized the cord, twisted it round his legs, and let himself +slowly down through the narrow opening.</p> + +<p>It was a perilous descent! Fandor did not know whether his cord was long +enough, and, lost in the darkness, with only the gleam of light from his +lantern to guide him, he was naturally afraid of reaching the end of his +rope unawares, and of falling into the black void beneath. But what he +observed in the course of his descent excited him so much that he almost +forgot the danger he was running. To those at all practised in police +detective work, it was clear as daylight that men had passed this way, +and recently.</p> + +<p>"Here is a dislodged stone," muttered Fandor. "And here are scrapes and +scratches—fresh ... and ... that mark looks like blood!"</p> + +<p>Pushing his knees and his shoulders against the wall to support himself +and stay his movements, he examined the mark. There was no doubt +possible: Fandor's sharp eyes and the lantern's light had picked out a +little red patch, which sullied one of the projecting stones in the +chimney walls:</p> + +<p>"This," reflected our amateur detective, "only confirms Dollon's death: +if the wound which caused this mark had been made by a living body, the +mark would have been larger, and there would have been others, for it +must come from an abrasion of the skin made during the descent. But this +blood mark has resulted from a dead body knocking against the stones of +the wall: it is not a mark make by flowing blood, but by blood crushed +out."</p> + +<p>He descended a few yards further:</p> + +<p>"Here's a find!" he cried. He had just perceived some hairs sticking to +the rough surface of the stones. Again, with arched shoulders and bent +knees, he supported himself against the wall, examined his discovery, +left half the hairs where they were, took the rest, and carefully placed +them in his pocket-book:</p> + +<p>"The police must not be able to say that I have arranged this for their +benefit," Fandor remarked. "Cost what it may, if I do not come across +Dollon's corpse below, I must find out to-morrow whether these hairs +resemble his."</p> + +<p>Fandor went on descending, and first in one place, then in another, he +saw on the walls of this chimney whitish patches such as might have been +caused by the passage of a heavy mass or body, hanging at the end of a +rope, and striking against the walls on its way down. Whilst he still +believed himself to be some distance off the end of his downward +journey, he felt a point of resistance beneath his feet. At first he +mistook it for firm ground, much to his surprise. He was about to leave +go of his cord when a remnant of prudence restrained him:</p> + +<p>"How do I know there is not an abyss depths upon depths below me—down +into the very bowels of the earth! I had better take care!"</p> + +<p>What Fandor had taken for firm ground was nothing but an iron staple +projecting from the wall. Fandor seized it, stopped for a minute or +two's breathing space, ascertained, by drawing it up, that of his cord +there were only a few yards remaining; but he also perceived, and with +what relief, that from where he was resting, downwards the chimney was, +as far as he could see by his lantern's light, marked off into regular +spaces by these iron staples which are sometimes placed there for the +use of chimney cleaners and masons. Fandor found them a most convenient +kind of ladder. The descent now became easy, and in a short time our +adventurous journalist reached the bottom of the chimney. At first he +could not understand where he had got to. In the thick gloom around him +his lantern's gleam of light showed him a kind of vaulted wall of +massive masonry. He advanced a step or two with noiseless tread, +listening, on the alert. Not a sound could he hear: he decided to expose +the full light of his lantern.</p> + +<p>The brighter light showed him that the chimney from which he was now +standing some yards away ended in a kind of sewer, evidently no longer +in use; and the plashing sound he had heard on the far up heights of the +Palais roofs proceeded from a thin and muddy stream of water flowing in +the middle of the sewer channel in the direction of the Seine. Kneeling +at the foot of the chimney Fandor could distinguish marks of steps made +by human feet; much deeper and very different indentations were visible +also:</p> + +<p>"Not only have men passed this way but a short while ago," he murmured, +"but they were carrying a heavy burden: there are two kinds of +footmarks, made by two kinds of shoes, and the heels have made much +deeper marks in the soil than have the tips—yes, these men bore a heavy +burden!"</p> + +<p>Fandor was so pleased that he mentally rubbed his hands over this +discovery. His quest was a success so far: he was on the track of +Dollon's body! And what copy for <i>La Capitale</i>! Then a sad thought came +to dim his delight:</p> + +<p>"Poor, poor Elizabeth Dollon! I swore to her I would get at the +truth—and a lamentable truth it is! Her brother is dead: he died in the +Dépôt: he was done to death—it was no suicide!"</p> + +<p>Whilst talking to himself Fandor was scrutinising every inch of the +ground as he moved forward: there might be fresh clues:</p> + +<p>"It's a queer kind of sewer," he went on. "This streamlet is as much mud +as water, is almost stagnant. Evidently this underground sewer way is no +longer used—has been abandoned!"</p> + +<p>A horrid spectacle struck him motionless. His lantern made visible a +struggling, heaving mass of rats, fighting tooth and claw, enormous rats +devouring some hidden thing!</p> + +<p>Fandor's stomach rose at the sight.</p> + +<p>Oh, horror! Could it be Jacques Dollon's body?</p> + +<p>Fandor snatched up a stone and flung it furiously among the unclean +beasts. They fled. On the ground he could distinguish a mass, a red, +formless mass, saturated with congealed blood:</p> + +<p>"Assuredly, if the corpse has disappeared, it is there the assassins +must have cut it in pieces, that they might carry it more easily, and +those vile creatures are in the thick of feasting on the poor victim's +remains!... Pouah!"</p> + +<p>Fandor moved on, only to discover another pool of blood almost as large, +also besieged by rats:</p> + +<p>"Evidently I shall find nothing else," thought Fandor: "the corpse no +longer exists!"</p> + +<p>He continued his advance, determined to find out what this underground +way ended in. His lantern was flickering to a finish when he arrived at +the end of the sewer and found, as he had foreseen, that its opening had +been cut in the steep bank of the Seine:</p> + +<p>"That's a bit of luck! I can get out this way instead of having to climb +back the way I came, up to the Palais roof and down again!"</p> + +<p>It was still night; darkness reigned save on the far horizon, where a +faint, whitish line indicated the early dawn of an April day.</p> + +<p>Fandor was just asking himself by what gymnastic feat he could regain +the quay, and he was leaning over the opening of the sewer, his body +bending far forward over the inky waters of the Seine. Before he had +time to turn, before he could regain his balance, a brutal blow from +behind half stunned him, and a vigorous thrust precipitated his body +into the Seine.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="V" id="V"></a>V</h2> + +<h3>MOTHER TOULOUCHE AND CRANAJOUR</h3> + + +<p>"Come along, Cranajour! Let's have a sight of what they've given you for +the frock coat and the whole outfit!"</p> + +<p>The person thus challenged rummaged in the pockets of his old, +much-patched and filthy garments, and after interminable fumblings and +huntings, finished by extracting a certain number of silver pieces, +which he counted over with the greatest care, finally he replied:</p> + +<p>"Seventeen francs, Mother Toulouche."</p> + +<p>Mother Toulouche showed her impatience:</p> + +<p>"It's details I want! How much for the coat? How much for the whole +suit? I've got to know, I tell you! I've got to write it all down, and +I've got to see how much I've to hand over to each of the owners of the +duds!... Try to remember, Cranajour!"</p> + +<p>The individual who answered to this odd appellation reflected. After a +silence, shrugging his shoulders, he replied:</p> + +<p>"I don't know. I can't make myself remember—not anyhow!... And it's a +long time since I sold the goods!"</p> + +<p>Mother Toulouche shrugged in turn:</p> + +<p>"A long time!" she grumbled. "What a wretched job! Why, it's only two +hours since—barely that!... It's true," she went on, with a pitying +look at the shabby, down-at-heel fellow, who had spread out his +seventeen francs on the table, "it's true that you're known not to have +two ha'p'orths of memory, and that at the end of an hour you have +forgotten what you've done!"</p> + +<p>"That's right enough," answered Cranajour.</p> + +<p>"Let's have done with it, then," cried Mother Toulouche.</p> + +<p>She held out a repulsive-looking specimen of old clothes:</p> + +<p>"Be off with you! Go and pawn this academician's cast-off! When the +comrades catch a sight of this bit of stuff to the fore, they'll +understand they can come without danger!... No cops about the store on +the lookout, are there?"</p> + +<p>Mother Toulouche took the precaution to advance to the threshold of her +store, cast a rapid glance around—not a suspicious person, nor a sign +of one to be seen:</p> + +<p>"A good thing," muttered she, "but I was sure of it! Those police spies +are going to give us some peace for a bit!... Likely the whole lot of +them are on this Dollon business! Isn't it so, Cranajour?"</p> + +<p>As she retreated into her store again Mother Toulouche knocked against +that individual, who had not budged: he had hung over his arm +respectfully the miserable bit of stuff that had been styled an +academician's robe:</p> + +<p>"Well, what are you waiting for?" asked she sharply.</p> + +<p>"Nothing...."</p> + +<p>"What are you going to do with that?"</p> + +<p>Cranajour seemed to reflect:</p> + +<p>"Haven't I told you," grumbled Mother Toulouche, "to go and stick it up +outside?... Don't say you've gone and forgotten already!"</p> + +<p>"No, no!" protested Cranajour, hastening to obey orders.</p> + +<p>"What a specimen!" thought Mother Toulouche, whilst counting over the +seventeen francs.</p> + +<p>Cranajour was a remarkably queer fish, beyond question. How had he got +into connection with Mother Toulouche and her intimates? That remained a +mystery. One fine day this seedy specimen of humanity was found among +the "comrades" exchanging vague remarks with one and another. He stuck +to them in all their shifting from this place to that: no one had been +able to get out of him what his name was, nor where he came from, for he +was afflicted with a memory like a sieve—he could not remember things +for two hours together. A feeble-minded, poor sort of fellow, with not a +halfpenny's worth of wickedness in him, always ready to do a hand's turn +for anyone: to judge by his looks he might have been any age between +forty and seventy, for there is nothing like privations and misery to +alter the looks of a man! Faced by this queer fish, with a brain like a +sieve, they had christened him "Crâne à jour"—and the nickname had +stuck to this anonymous individual. Besides, was not Cranajour the most +complaisant of fellows, the least exacting of collaborators—always +content with what was given him, always willing to do his best!</p> + +<p>As to Mother Toulouche; she kept a little shop on the quay of the Clock. +The sign over her little store read:</p> + +<h4>"<i>For the Curiosity Lover.</i>"</h4> + +<p>This alluring title was not justified by anything to be found inside +this store, which was nothing but a common pick-up-anything shop: it was +a receptacle for a hideous collection of lumber, for old broken +furniture, for garments past decent wear, for indescribable odds and +ends, where the wreckage of human misery lay huddled cheek by jowl with +the beggarly offscourings of Parisian destitution.</p> + +<p>Behind the store, whose little front faced the edge of the quay and +looked over the Seine, was a sordid back-shop: here the pallet of Mother +Toulouche, a kitchen stove out of order, and the overflow of the goods +which were crowded out of the store were jumbled up in ill-smelling +disorder. This back-shop communicated with the rue de Harlay by a narrow +dark passage; thus the lair of old Mother Toulouche had two outlets, nor +were they superfluous; in fact, they were indispensable for such as +she—ever on the alert to escape the inquisitive attentions of the +police, ever receiving visitors of doubtful morals and thoroughly bad +reputation.</p> + +<p>Mother Toulouche's quarters comprised not only the two stores, but a +cellar both large and deep, to which one obtained access by a staircase +pitch dark, crooked, and everlastingly covered with moisture, owing to +the proximity of the river. The floor of the cellar was a kind of +noisome cesspool: one slipped on the greasy mud—floundered about in it: +for all that, this cellar was almost entirely filled with cases of all +kinds, with queer-looking bundles, with objects of various shapes and +sizes. Evidently the jumble store of Mother Toulouche did not confine +itself to the rough-and-ready shop in the front; and, into the bargain, +this basement might be used as a safe hiding-place in an emergency, a +precious refuge for whoever might feel it necessary to cover his tracks, +and thus escape the investigations of the police, for instance!</p> + +<p>Mother Toulouche, as a matter of fact, needed such premises as hers: if +she took ceaseless precautions it was because she had a reason for her +uneasy watchfulness.</p> + +<p>Mother Toulouche had already come into involuntary contact with the +police; and her last and most serious encounter with them went as far +back as those days of renown when the band of Numbers had as their chief +the mysterious hooligan Loupart, also known under the name of Dr. +Chaleck.<a name="FNanchor_4_4" id="FNanchor_4_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> She had been arrested for complicity in a bank-note robbery, +had been tried, and had been sentenced to twenty-two months' +imprisonment.</p> + +<p>Not turned in the slightest degree from the error of her ways, and +possessing some money, which she had kept carefully hidden, Mother +Toulouche had decided to set up shop close to the Palais de Justice, +that Great House where those gentlemen of the robe judged and condemned +poor folk! She would say:</p> + +<p>"Being so close to the red-robed I shall end by making the acquaintance +of one or two of them, and that may turn out a good job for me one of +these days!"</p> + +<p>But this was merely a blind, for other considerations had led to Mother +Toulouche renting this shop on the Isle of the City, in opening on the +quay of the Clock, a quay but little frequented, her wretched jumble +store of odds and ends. She had kept in touch with the band of Numbers, +which had gradually come together again as soon as the various numbers +of it had finished serving their time.</p> + +<p>For a while they had lived unmolested, but lately misfortunes had laid a +heavy hand on the group. Still, as the band began to break up, other +members came to replace those who had disappeared, either temporarily or +for good and all.</p> + +<p>At any rate, they could safely count on the assistance of an individual +more valuable to them than anyone; this was a man named Nibet, who +although he intervened but seldom, could, thanks to his influence, save +the band many annoyances. This Nibet held an honourable official +position; he was a warder at the Dépôt.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Whilst Mother Toulouche, from the back of her store, was watching with a +derisive air the good-natured Cranajour fasten up the Academician's robe +in a prominent position on the front of her nondescript emporium, +someone stepped inside, and warmly greeted Mother Toulouche with a:</p> + +<p>"Good day, old lady!"</p> + +<p>It was big Ernestine,<a name="FNanchor_5_5" id="FNanchor_5_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> who explained volubly that for a good half hour +she had been prowling about near the statue of Henry IV, keeping the +store well in view, but not daring to approach until the usual signal +had been displayed. Those who frequented the place knew that when the +store was under police observation and Mother Toulouche feared a raid +she took care to hang out any kind of old clothes; but if the way was +clear, if no lurking police were on the lookout, then the rallying flag +would be hoisted, the flag being the old, patched, rusty, musty +Academician's robe.</p> + +<p>Ernestine had arrived looking thoroughly upset:</p> + +<p>"Have you heard the latest?" she cried, "the bad news?"</p> + +<p>"What news? Whose news?" questioned Mother Toulouche.</p> + +<p>"Why, that poor Emilet has come down a regular cropper!"</p> + +<p>"The poor fellow!... He isn't smashed up, is he?" Mother Toulouche +lifted her hands.</p> + +<p>"I haven't heard anything more than what I've told you!"</p> + +<p>Consternation was on the faces of the two women.</p> + +<p>Their good Mimile! He who knew how to take care of himself without +leaving a comrade in the lurch, who stuck to them, working for the +common good.</p> + +<p>A few years previous to this Mimile, having refused to conform to +military law, had been arrested in the tavern of a certain Father Korn +during a particularly drastic police raid, and the defaulting youth had +been straightway put under the penal military discipline administered to +such as he. Instead of making himself notorious by his execrable conduct +as those in his position generally did, he behaved like a little saint. +Having thus made a reputation to trade on, he was twice able to steal +the money from the regimental chest without a shadow of suspicion +falling on him, and, what was worse, two of his innocent comrades had +been accused of the crime, had been condemned and shot in his stead! +Owing to his good conduct Mimile had been transferred to a regiment +stationed in Algiers, and having a considerable amount of spare time on +his hands, he got into close touch with the aeroplane mechanics.</p> + +<p>He was very much at home in this branch of work: could not Mimile +demolish a lock as easily as one rolls a cigarette? He was daring to a +degree, and, as soon as his time in the army was up, he began to earn +his living as an aviator, and rightly, for he had become an able airman. +Nevertheless, Mimile become Emilet, had aspired to greater things: a +humdrum honest livelihood was not to his taste!</p> + +<p>He had come to the conclusion that provided he went warily nothing could +be easier than to carry on a lucrative smuggling trade by aeroplane: he +could fly from country to country under the pretext that he was out to +make records in flying. Custom-house officials and police inspectors in +the interior would never think of examining the tubes of a flying +machine, to see whether or no they were packed with lace; nor would it +occur to them to overhaul certain cells fore and aft to discover whether +things of value had been secreted in them, such as thousands of matches +or false coin.</p> + +<p>So, from time to time, Mimile would announce that he was off on a trial +trip to Brussels from Paris, from London to Calais, and so on.</p> + +<p>For mechanics Mimile had two brokendown sharpers, who served as +connecting links between the aviator and the band of smugglers and false +coiners who gathered at the lair of Mother Toulouche under the seal of +secrecy. This was why big Ernestine was so anxious when she heard of +Mimile's accident. Had the aeroplane been totally wrecked? Would the +very considerable prize of Malines lace they were expecting reach its +destination safe and sound?</p> + +<p>For some time past ill-luck had pursued them, had seemed to pursue +implacably these unfortunates who took such pains and precautions to +carry through their unlawful operations to a successful issue. Already +the Cooper, a member of the confraternity who had had his glorious hour +in the famous days of Chaleck and Loupart, had scarcely left prison +retirement before he had been nabbed again, owing to the far too sharp +eyes of the French custom-house officials on the Belgian frontier. +Others of the band were also under lock and key again: it really seemed +as if Mother Toulouche and her circle were being strictly watched by the +police ... and now here was Emilet who had come a regular cropper in his +aeroplane—no doubt about it!</p> + +<p>Mother Toulouche was set on knowing the rights of it:</p> + +<p>"But what has happened to Emilet exactly?"</p> + +<p>She called Cranajour. The queer fellow came forward from the back store, +where he had been loafing: he had a bewildered air.</p> + +<p>"Cranajour," said Mother Toulouche, putting a sou in his hand, "hurry +off and buy me an evening paper! Now be quick about it!... Don't +forget.... Make a knot in your handkerchief to remind a stupid head!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't be afraid, Mother Toulouche," declared Cranajour, "I shan't +forget!" He nodded to big Ernestine, and vanished as by magic into the +darkness, for night had fallen.</p> + +<p>Scarcely had Cranajour gone, than a surly looking individual slipped +into the store, not by the quay entrance, but through the back store, to +which he had gained access by the dark passage leading to the rue de +Harlay.</p> + +<p>His collar was turned up as though he were cold; his cap was drawn well +over his eyes, thus his face was almost entirely hidden.</p> + +<p>Having barred the door on the quay side of the store, Mother Toulouche +joined big Ernestine and the newcomer:</p> + +<p>"Well, Nibet, anything fresh?" she asked.</p> + +<p>Removing his cap and lowering his collar Nibet's crabbed visage glowered +on the two women: it was the Dépôt warder right enough:</p> + +<p>"Bad," he growled between his teeth: "Things are hot right at the +Palais!"</p> + +<p>"Things to worry about—to do with comrades committed for trial?" +questioned big Ernestine.</p> + +<p>Nibet shrugged and threw a glance of disdain at the girl:</p> + +<p>"You're going silly! It's this Dollon mess-up!"</p> + +<p>The warder gave them an account of what had happened. The two women were +all ears, as they followed Nibet's story of events which had thrown the +whole legal world into a state of commotion: incomprehensible +occurrences, which threatened to turn an ordinary murder case into one +of the most mysterious and most popular of assassination dramas.</p> + +<p>Mother Toulouche and big Ernestine were well aware that Nibet knew much +more than he had told them about the details of the Dollon-Vibray +affair; but they dared not cross-examine the warder who was in a nasty +mood—nor did the announcement of Emilet's accident add to his gaiety!</p> + +<p>"It just wanted that!" he grunted: "And those bundles of lace were to +turn up this evening too!"</p> + +<p>"Who is to bring them?" asked big Ernestine.</p> + +<p>"The Sailor," declared Nibet.</p> + +<p>"And who is to receive them?" demanded Mother Toulouche.</p> + +<p>"I and the Beadle," answered Nibet in a surly tone. "Come to think of +it," went on Nibet, staring hard at big Ernestine, "where <i>is</i> that man +of yours—the Beadle?"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Like someone who had been running at top speed Cranajour, who had been +gone about an hour on his newspaper-buying errand, drew up panting +before the dark little entry leading from the rue de Harlay to the den +of Mother Toulouche. He slipped into the passage; but instead of +rejoining the old storekeeper he began to mount a steep and tortuous +staircase, which led up to the many floors of the house. He climbed up +to the seventh story; turned the key of a shaky door, and entered an +attic whose skylight window opened obliquely in the sloping roof.</p> + +<p>This poverty-stricken chamber was the domicile of the queer fellow who +passed his daylight hours in the company of Mother Toulouche, hobnobbing +with a hole-and-corner crew, cronies of the old receiver of stolen +goods.</p> + +<p>Overheated with running, Cranajour unbuttoned his coat, opened his +shirt, sprinkled his face and the upper part of his body with cold +water, sponged the perspiration from his brow, and brushed the dust off +his big shoes.</p> + +<p>It was a clear starlight night. To freshen himself up still more he put +his head and shoulders out of the half-opened window. He was gazing at +the roofs facing him; suddenly he started, and his eyes gleamed. They +were the roofs, outlined against the night sky, of the Palais de +Justice. There was a shadow on the roof of the great pile, a shadow +which moved to and fro, passing from one roof ridge to another, now +vanishing behind a chimney, now coming into view again. Anxiously +Cranajour followed the odd movements of the mysterious individual who +was making his lofty and lonely promenade up above there.</p> + +<p>"What the devil does it mean?" soliloquised the watcher. Whoever could +have seen Cranajour at this moment would have been struck by the marked +change produced in his physiognomy. This was not the Cranajour of the +wandering eye, the silly smile, the stupid face, known to Mother +Toulouche and her cronies; it was a transformed Cranajour, mobile of +feature, lively of movement, a sharp, keen-witted Cranajour! Veritably +another man!</p> + +<p>Puzzled by the vagaries of the promenader on the Palais roofs, Cranajour +followed his movements intently for a few minutes longer. He would have +remained at the window the whole night long had the unknown persisted in +his peregrinations; but Cranajour saw him climb to the top of a chimney, +a wide one, lower himself slowly into the opening of it, and then vanish +from view!</p> + +<p>Cranajour waited a while in hopes that the unknown would not be long in +coming out of his mysterious hiding-place again. He waited and expected +in vain: the roofs of the Palais resumed their ordinary aspect: solitude +reigned there.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Not long afterwards Cranajour re-entered the back store.</p> + +<p>"What a time you have been!" cried Mother Toulouche: "You've brought the +newspaper, haven't you?"</p> + +<p>Cranajour looked at the little company with his most stupid expression +and then lowered his eyes:</p> + +<p>"My goodness, I've forgotten to buy one!" he cried.</p> + +<p>Nibet, who had paid but scant attention to the new arrival, continued +his conversation with big Ernestine: they were talking about her lover, +nicknamed the Beadle.</p> + +<p>He was a terrible individual this Beadle! Though his nickname suggested +a peaceful occupation, he really owed it to the frightful reputation he +had won as a "<i>bell-ringer</i>"; but the bells big Ernestine's lover was in +the habit of ringing were unfortunate pedestrians whom he would rob and +half murder, beating them unmercifully about the head and body. +Sometimes he would beat them to within an ace of their last gasp: +occasionally he would beat the life out of them altogether if they tried +to resist his brutal attacks. The Beadle was an Apache<a name="FNanchor_6_6" id="FNanchor_6_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a> of the first +order of brutality.</p> + +<p>Big Ernestine finished explaining to Nibet that he must not count on the +Beadle that evening, for things were so queer and uncertain, the outlook +was so gloomy that no one knew what bad business they might be in for.</p> + +<p>Mother Toulouche asked if he had got mixed up in the Dollon affair.</p> + +<p>Cranajour cocked his ear at that, whilst pretending to put a great +bundle of old clothes in order.</p> + +<p>But Nibet replied:</p> + +<p>"The Beadle has nothing whatever to do with that business.... I know +what I know about all that.... He's afraid of getting what the Cooper +got, so he keeps away. He's not far out either—you've got to be careful +these days—queer times!"</p> + +<p>Ernestine and Mother Toulouche bewailed the Cooper's fate:</p> + +<p>"Poor fellow! No sooner out of quod than back—only a fortnight's +liberty! And with a vile accusation fastened to him—smuggling and +coining!"</p> + +<p>Nibet tried to relieve their minds:</p> + +<p>"Haven't I told you," growled he, "that I'm going to get Maître Henri +Robart to defend him? He knows how to get round juries: he'll get the +Cooper off with an easy sentence."</p> + +<p>Nibet looked at his watch:</p> + +<p>"It will soon be half-past two! Got to go down! The boatman will be +there before long, at the mouth of the sewer!"</p> + +<p>Mother Toulouche, who was always in a flurry when smuggled goods were to +be unloaded in her cellars, tried to dissuade Nibet:</p> + +<p>"You'll never be able to manage it by yourself!"</p> + +<p>Nibet glanced at Cranajour. The warder hesitated, then said:</p> + +<p>"Since there's no one else, couldn't I take Cranajour with me?"</p> + +<p>At first objections were raised; there was a low-voiced discussion, so +that the simpleton might not catch what they were saying: Cranajour had +never been up to dodges of this kind: so far he had been kept out of +them; besides, he was such a senseless cove, he might give things away, +make a hash of it!</p> + +<p>Nibet smiled:</p> + +<p>"Why, it's just because he is such a simpleton, and because he hasn't a +mite of memory that we can use him safely!"</p> + +<p>"That's true!" said Mother Toulouche, somewhat reassured.</p> + +<p>She called to Cranajour:</p> + +<p>"Come along, Cranajour, and just tell us where you dined this evening!"</p> + +<p>The simpleton seemed to make a prodigious effort of memory, seized his +head between his hands, closed his eyes, and racked his brains: after +quite a long silence, he declared emphatically and with a distressed +air:</p> + +<p>"Faith, I can't tell you now!"</p> + +<p>Nibet, who had closely watched this performance, nodded:</p> + +<p>"It's quite all right," he said.</p> + +<p>The cellars below Mother Toulouche's store were extensive, dark, and +ill-smelling. The walls glistened with exuding damp, and the ground was +a sticky mass of foul mud, of all sorts of refuse, of putrefying matter.</p> + +<p>Nibet, followed by his companion, made his way down to them: it was no +easy descent, for they had to climb over cases of all kinds, and over +bales and bundles that moved and rolled about. They passed into a +smaller cellar, around which were ranged long boxes of tin with rusty +covers.</p> + +<p>Cranajour, who had been given the lantern to carry, was attracted to +these boxes: he lifted the cover of one of them and drew back +wonderstruck, for the box was full of shining gold pieces! Nibet, with a +jab and thrust in the back, interrupted Cranajour's contemplation of +this fortune:</p> + +<p>"Nothing to faint over!" he growled. "You're not such a simpleton then! +You know the value of yellow boys? All right, then, I'll give you one or +two, if you do your job all right! But," continued the warder, leading +his companion to the further end of the second cellar, "you will have to +look out if you present your banker with one of those pieces, for the +little bits of shiny won't pass everywhere—you've got to keep your eye +open—and jolly wide, too!"</p> + +<p>Cranajour nodded comprehension:</p> + +<p>"False money! False money!" he murmured.</p> + +<p>There was a very strong big door: an iron bar kept it closed. Nibet +raised it with Cranajour's help. Through the door the two men passed +into a long dark passage, swept by a sharp rush of air. The floor of it +was paved, and at the side of it flowed a pestilential stream, carrying +along in its slow-moving water a quantity of miscellaneous filth: it was +thick as soup with impurities.</p> + +<p>"The little collecting sewer of the Cité," whispered Nibet. Pointing to +a grey patch in the distance he put his mouth to Cranajour's ear:</p> + +<p>"See the daylight yonder? That's where the sewer discharges itself into +the Seine: it's there the boatman and his load will be waiting for us +presently."</p> + +<p>Nibet stopped dead; drew Cranajour back by the sleeve, and stepped +stealthily backwards to the massive doors of the cellar. An unaccustomed +noise had alarmed the warder. In profound silence the two men stood +listening intently. There was no mistake! The sound of sharp regular +steps could be clearly heard coming from that part of the sewer opposite +the opening.</p> + +<p>"Someone!" said Cranajour, who was all on the alert, as he had been in +his attic, watching the shadow and its vagaries on the roofs of the +Palais de Justice.</p> + +<p>Nibet nodded.</p> + +<p>The light from a dark lantern gleamed on the damp, slimy walls of the +subterranean passageway.</p> + +<p>"Come inside," murmured Nibet, in an almost inaudible voice; and, with +infinite precaution, he closed the massive portal between the cellar and +the sewer-way.</p> + +<p>In safe hiding the two men could watch the approaching intruder: they +had extinguished their lantern, and were peering through the badly +joined wood of the solid door. Friend or foe? An individual moved into +view. The reflected light of his lantern lit up the vaulting of the +sewer-way, and showed up his face. The man was young, fair, wore a +small moustache!</p> + +<p>Hardly had he passed the cellar door when Nibet gripped Cranajour's arm +and growled—intense rage was expressed in grip and tone—"It's he! +Again! The journalist of the Dollon affair, of the Dépôt +business—Jérôme Fandor! Ah.... This time we'll see!..."</p> + +<p>Nibet's hand plunged into his trouser pocket.</p> + +<p>Cranajour was eagerly watching the warder's every movement: he clearly +heard the sharp snap of a pocket-knife—a long sharp knife—a deadly +weapon!</p> + +<p>Giving prudence the go-by, Nibet had opened the door, and dragging +Cranajour in his wake had rushed into the sewer-way, hard on the heels +of the journalist, who was slowly going in the direction of the Seine. +Nibet ground his teeth.</p> + +<p>"I have had enough of that beast! Always on our track! Too good a chance +to miss! I'm going to make a hole in his skin for him!"</p> + +<p>In the twilight of early dawn, which penetrated the sewer near the +opening, Cranajour shuddered.</p> + +<p>With stealthy step the two men drew near the journalist. Fandor walked +on unsuspicious at a slow regular pace, his head lowered. The two +bandits came up to within a yard of him. Noiselessly, savagely +determined, Nibet lifted his arm for a murderous stroke. At this precise +moment Fandor stopped at the verge of the exit, by which the sewer +discharged its burden steeply into the Seine.</p> + +<p>Yet a moment: Nibet's knife was poised for the rapid and terrible +stroke; it was about to bury itself in the neck of the journalist up to +the hilt, when Cranajour lifted his foot, as if inspired by an idea on +the spur of the moment, gave the journalist a violent kick in the lower +part of the back, and sent him flying into space!</p> + +<p>They heard his body fall heavily into the Seine.... So roughly sudden +had been Cranajour's movement that Nibet stood dumbfounded, arm in air, +and staring at Cranajour:</p> + +<p>Cranajour smiled his most idiotic smile, nodded, but did not utter one +word!...</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>It was formidable, the rage of Nibet! Here had that crass fool, +Cranajour, kicked away the warder's chance of ridding himself of the +journalist for good and all! This hit-and-miss made Nibet foam with +rage. Of all the exasperating simpletons, this fool of a Cranajour took +the cake!</p> + +<p>The two made their way back to the store, where Mother Toulouche and big +Ernestine anxiously awaited results; and now not only had the two men +returned stuttering over their statements and with no news of the +boatman, who was generally up to time, but they had missed a fine +opportunity chance had offered them!</p> + +<p>Nibet hated the journalist like all the poisons. Taunts, jeers, abuse +were heaped on the silly head of Cranajour, who, all in vain, raised his +eyes to heaven, beat his chest, shrugged his shoulders, stammered, +mumbled vague excuses:</p> + +<p>"He didn't know exactly why he had done it! He thought he was helping +Nibet!"</p> + +<p>They disputed and contended for two hours. Suddenly Cranajour broke a +long silence and demanded, looking as stupid as a half-witted owl:</p> + +<p>"What have I done then? What are you scolding me for?"</p> + +<p>Mother Toulouche, big Ernestine, and the wrathful Nibet stared at one +another, taken aback—then they understood: two hours had gone by, and +Cranajour no longer remembered what had happened!</p> + +<p>Decidedly he was more innocent than a new-born babe! There was nothing +whatever to be done with such an idiot, that was certain!</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="VI" id="VI"></a>VI</h2> + +<h3>IN THE OPPOSITE SENSE</h3> + + +<p>When Jérôme Fandor had been precipitated into the Seine so unexpectedly +and with such violence he kept control of his wits: he did not utter a +cry as he fell head foremost into the darkling river. He was an +excellent swimmer: all aching as he was, he let himself go with the +current and presently reached the sheltering arch of the Pont Neuf. +There he took breath for a minute:</p> + +<p>"Queer!" was all he murmured. Then with regular strokes he made for the +steep bank of the Seine opposite. Quitting the river, he secreted +himself behind a heap of stones which lay on the quay. He took off his +soaked garments and wrung the water out of them. This done, and clad in +what looked like dry clothes, Fandor walked along the quay, hailed a +passing cabman half asleep on his seat, jumped inside, and gave his +address to the Jehu.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>When he arrived at <i>La Capitale</i> on the Friday morning a boy approached +him, and whispered mysteriously:</p> + +<p>"Monsieur Fandor, there's a very nice little woman in the sitting-room, +who has been waiting for over an hour. She wishes to see you. She will +not give her name: she declares that you know who she is."</p> + +<p>"What is she like?" Fandor asked. His curiosity was not much aroused.</p> + +<p>"Pretty, fair, all in black," replied the boy.</p> + +<p>"Good. I'll go in," interrupted Fandor.</p> + +<p>He entered the sitting-room and stood face to face with Mademoiselle +Elizabeth Dollon. She came forward, her eyes shining, her face alight +with welcome:</p> + +<p>"Ah, monsieur," she cried, taking his hands in hers, a movement of pure +gratitude: "Ah, monsieur, I knew you would come to my help! I have read +your article of yesterday. Thank you again and again! But, I implore +you, since my brother is alive, tell me where I can see him! For mercy's +sake don't keep me waiting!"</p> + +<p>Surprise kept Fandor silent a moment.</p> + +<p><i>La Capitale</i> had published the evening before a sensational article by +Fandor, in which, under the guise of suppositions and interrogations, he +had narrated the various adventures as they had happened to himself, +concluding with the question—really an ironical one: "If Jacques +Dollon, who had disappeared from his cell, where he had been left for +dead, had escaped from the Dépôt by way of the famous chimney of Marie +Antoinette, had reached the roof of the Palais, had redescended by +another passageway to the sewer opening on to the Seine, did it not seem +possible that Dollon had escaped alive from the Dépôt?"</p> + +<p>Fandor had indulged in a gentle irony, despite the gravity of the +circumstances, in order to complicate the already complicated affair, +and so plunge the police into a confusion worse confounded: this, in +spite of his conviction that Dollon was dead, dead as dead could be!</p> + +<p>Now the cruelty of this professional game was brought home to him. His +article had raised fresh hopes in Dollon's poor sister! At sight of this +charming girl, brightened with hope, Fandor felt all pity and guilt. He +pressed her hands; he hesitated; he was troubled. He did not know how to +explain. At last he murmured:</p> + +<p>"It was wrong of me, mademoiselle, very wrong to write that article in +such a way without warning you beforehand. Alas! You must not cherish +illusions, illusions which this unfortunate article has given rise to, +illusions I cannot believe in myself. I speak with all the sincerity of +which I am capable, with the keenest desire to be of service to you: I +dare not let you buoy yourself up with false hopes.... I assure you +then, that from what I have been able to learn, to see, to know, I am +convinced that your unfortunate brother is no more!... If there have +been moments when I have doubted this, I am now morally certain that he +is dead. Take courage, mademoiselle! Try, try to forget—to—to ..."</p> + +<p>Fandor was trembling with emotion: he could not continue. Elizabeth bent +her head, her eyes full of tears. She could not speak. She was overcome +by this cruel dashing to the ground of her hopes. Never, never, to see +her brother again!</p> + +<p>An agonising silence reigned.</p> + +<p>Fandor was profoundly troubled by this mute grief. He sought in vain for +some word of comfort, of encouragement.</p> + +<p>Elizabeth rose to go. The poor girl realised that nothing could be +gained by prolonging the interview. Her one need now was to be alone, +for then she could weep.</p> + +<p>Fandor was about to accompany her to the door, when a boy entered:</p> + +<p>"Monsieur Fandor, there's a man wishes to speak to you!"</p> + +<p>"Say I am not here," replied our journalist: he had no wish to see +strangers just then.</p> + +<p>"But Monsieur Fandor, he says he is the keeper of the landing stage of +the passenger boat service, and he comes with reference to the Dollon +affair!"</p> + +<p>Both Elizabeth Dollon and Jérôme Fandor started. She was trembling. Our +journalist said at once:</p> + +<p>"Bring him in then!"</p> + +<p>The boy went off, and Fandor turned to the trembling girl.</p> + +<p>"Tell me, Mademoiselle Elizabeth, do you feel equal to hearing what +this man has to tell us? It is not improbable that he has seen +something—something it would be best you should not hear—had you not +better avoid it?"</p> + +<p>Elizabeth shook her head in the negative. She was collecting all her +forces: she would not remain ignorant of any detail of the terrible +tragedy which had cost her brother so dear:</p> + +<p>"I shall be strong enough," she announced firmly.</p> + +<p>The boy ushered in the visitor. He looked a good specimen of his class, +a man about forty. On his cap were the gold anchors of those in the +employ of the Paris boat service.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur!... Madame!... At your service!" The good fellow was very much +embarrassed:</p> + +<p>"Monsieur Fandor," he went on, "you do not know me, but I know you very +well, that I do!... I read your articles every day in <i>La Capitale</i>. +They're jolly good! What I say is ..."</p> + +<p>Fandor cut short his admirer: "Now tell me what brings you here!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, here goes! I was reading your article yesterday, about how +Jacques Dollon, no more dead than you or I, had escaped over the roofs +of the Palais de Justice. That made me laugh, because I am the keeper of +the landing stage at the Pont Neuf Station. This affair is supposed to +have happened in my parts, don't you see?... Well, I had just come to +the bit where you also suppose that the corpse might easily have been +devoured by rats inside the sewer.... Well, Monsieur Fandor, I can +assure you that it was nothing of the sort...."</p> + +<p>The journalist was all eyes and ears. He signed to Elizabeth that she +must keep quiet, so as not to intimidate the good fellow.</p> + +<p>"Come now, what is it you have seen?"</p> + +<p>"What I've seen?... Why, I saw Dollon break bounds!"</p> + +<p>At this statement Elizabeth grew white as a sheet. She jumped up, and +with clasped hands rushed towards the keeper:</p> + +<p>"Speak, speak quickly, I implore you!" she cried.</p> + +<p>Fandor drew Elizabeth back gently, and whispered a few words to her. He +turned to the keeper:</p> + +<p>"Mademoiselle has also come to make a statement regarding this affair," +he explained. "That is why she is so interested in what you have just +told us.... But tell us how you saw Jacques Dollon escape!"</p> + +<p>"Well, I had got up a bit earlier than usual to see that the anchors and +mooring were all right, and I thought I saw what looked like a big +bundle fall into the river from the sewer opening—only I was half +asleep and didn't take much notice; for, what with all the rain we've +been having, there's no end of filthy stuff tumbling out of the mouth of +the sewers. But, a few minutes after that, I noticed that the bundle, +instead of going with the flow of the current, was drifting across the +Seine, plainly making for the bank. There could be no mistake about +that!"</p> + +<p>Elizabeth Dollon cried:</p> + +<p>"And then? And then?"</p> + +<p>"Then, my little lady, what if this surprise packet didn't turn off +behind an arch of the Pont-Neuf! I didn't see what became of it—but no +one will get it out of my head that it isn't some jolly dog who had no +wish to show himself—that's what I think!"</p> + +<p>The keeper paused, then went on:</p> + +<p>"That's all I have to tell you, Monsieur Fandor ... it might serve for +one of your articles some time or other ... only you mustn't say that I +told you. I might get into trouble with my chiefs about it!"</p> + +<p>Elizabeth Dollon was no longer listening. She had turned to Fandor, and +with shining eyes murmured:</p> + +<p>"He lives!... He lives!..."</p> + +<p>Fandor thanked the keeper, and got rid of him. Directly the door closed +on him he darted to Elizabeth:</p> + +<p>"Poor child!" he cried, full of pity for her.</p> + +<p>"Ah! Don't pity me! I don't need your pity now!... My brother is +alive!... That man has seen him!"</p> + +<p>Fandor had to undeceive her:</p> + +<p>"Your brother is certainly dead," he declared. "If he were the +individual in question, it would not have been yesterday morning, +but the morning before that, when the keeper saw him; and I do +assure you ..."</p> + +<p>"But this good fellow is telling the truth then?"</p> + +<p>"I assure you that I have good reasons, the best of reasons, for +believing, for being certain, that the swimmer who crossed the Seine was +not your brother!"</p> + +<p>"Great Heaven! Who was it then?"</p> + +<p>Fandor hesitated a moment.... Should he divulge his secret? All he said +was:</p> + +<p>"It was not your brother—I know that!"</p> + +<p>So decisive was his tone, so great the sympathy vibrating through his +words, that Elizabeth Dollon, once more convinced that Fandor was not +speaking at random, bent her head and shed tears of deepest grief and +bitter disappointment.</p> + +<p>Fandor allowed the sorrow-stricken girl to give way to her grief for a +few minutes; then he gently asked her:</p> + +<p>"Mademoiselle Elizabeth, shall we have a little talk?... You see I +simply cannot tell you everything, yet I would gladly help you!... But +first and foremost, I beg of you to put quite out of your mind this hope +that your brother is still alive!..."</p> + +<p>Sadly Elizabeth wiped away her tears, and in a voice which she tried to +steady, said:</p> + +<p>"Oh, what is to become of me! I thought I had found in you a support, a +help, and now you abandon me! And I had put my faith in your goodness of +heart!... There are your articles on the one hand, and your attitude on +the other—what am I to make of it? It is driving me to despair! And if +you only knew how much I need to be supported, encouraged; I feel as if +I should go out of my senses—out of my mind ... and I am alone, so +terribly alone!"</p> + +<p>The poor girl's voice was broken by sobs, her whole body was shaken by +them. Fandor went up to her, and spoke to her in a low tone +affectionately: he felt great sympathy and an immense pity for this +unhappy young creature, who charmed and attracted him. He tried to +console her, and to change the current of her thoughts:</p> + +<p>"Come now, Mademoiselle, do try to control yourself a little! I have +promised to help you, and I certainly shall—you may be sure of it. But +consider now—if I am to be of real use to you, I must know a little +about you: you, yourself, your family, your brother; who your friends +are, and who are your enemies! I must enter into your existence, not as +a judge, but as a comrade who is interested in all that concerns you. +Will you not confide in me? Once I know what there is to know we might +then unite our efforts to some purpose, and find out what really has +happened, since the mystery remains inexplicable."</p> + +<p>Elizabeth Dollon felt the young man was sincere, and that what he said +in such a gentle voice was true.</p> + +<p>This poor human waif asked no more than to be allowed to cling to +whoever would take pity on her and be kind. She now spoke to Jérôme +Fandor of her childhood without suspecting in the least that the same +Jérôme Fandor—Charles Rambert—used to play with her in those days.<a name="FNanchor_7_7" id="FNanchor_7_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</a></p> + +<p>She mentioned the assassination of the Marquise de Langrune—the first +tragic episode of her life; then had come the horrible death of her +father, old Steward Dollon, who had passed from the service of the +Marquise to that of the Baroness de Vibray, and then perished, the +victim of a criminal.</p> + +<p>She explained how Jacques Dollon and she had come to settle in Paris, +feeling themselves rich on the savings they had inherited from their +parents. Elizabeth had become a dressmaker, and Jacques had become an +artist-craftsman. Gradually the young man's talent and industry had +enabled his sister to leave her workroom and come to live with him. His +reputation was a growing one, and the two young people looked forward to +an existence of honest comfort in the near future. They got to know some +people, one or two of whom were rich, and had shown their interest in +the brother and sister.</p> + +<p>Jérôme Fandor interrupted her:</p> + +<p>"You always remained on good terms with the Baroness de Vibray?"</p> + +<p>At this question the girl's eyes flashed:</p> + +<p>"They have put into print shameful things about this poor dear Baroness, +and about my brother also. The papers have represented her as eccentric, +as mad; they have said worse things than that, you know that, don't +you?... They have declared that there was a very intimate relation +between her and my brother—I cannot say more—it is too hateful! It is +all false—as false as false can be! The Baroness was particularly +interested in Jacques, but assuredly that was owing to the long standing +relations between her family and ours.... The suicide of the Baroness +has been a sad addition to my grief, for I was very fond of her!..."</p> + +<p>Fandor had been listening attentively to Elizabeth's story. He now said:</p> + +<p>"You have used the word 'suicide,' mademoiselle: do you then really +think, as everyone seems to do, that your patroness killed herself of +her own free will?"</p> + +<p>Elizabeth reflected a minute before replying:</p> + +<p>"That was what she wrote—and one must believe that, nevertheless ..."</p> + +<p>"Nevertheless?"</p> + +<p>Elizabeth hesitated, passed her hand over her forehead, then said:</p> + +<p>"Nevertheless, Monsieur Fandor, the more I think over this death, the +more remarkable it seems. The Baroness de Vibray was not the kind of +person to commit suicide, even if she were unhappy, even if she were +ruined. I have often heard her speak of her money affairs; she even used +to joke about the expostulations of her bankers, Messieurs +Barbey-Nanteuil, because she was too fond of gambling. That was our poor +friend's weakness: she was a dreadful gambler: she was always betting on +horses and gambling on the Bourse."<a name="FNanchor_8_8" id="FNanchor_8_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_8" class="fnanchor">[8]</a></p> + +<p>"Do you know the Barbey-Nanteuils at all, mademoiselle?"</p> + +<p>"A little. I have met them once or twice at Madame de Vibray's—when she +had one of her little evenings. Once or twice my brother has asked their +advice about investments—very modest investments I can assure you—and +they got one of their friends, a Monsieur Thomery, to buy some of my +brother's art pottery."</p> + +<p>"Have you many acquaintances in Paris, mademoiselle?"</p> + +<p>"Besides the Baroness we hardly saw anyone except Madame Bourrat, a very +nice, kind woman, widow of an inspector of the City of Paris; she keeps +a boarding-house at Auteuil, rue Raffet. In fact, I am staying with her +now, for I had not the courage to go back to my brother's place: too +many dreadful memories are connected with his studio there. I am lucky +to find such a sympathetic friend in Madame Bourrat, and such a warm +welcome.... I am alone now, and life is sad."</p> + +<p>Fandor went on with his cross-examination:</p> + +<p>"Nevertheless, mademoiselle, I must ask you to return in thought to that +tragic home of yours. Please tell me what people you knew in your +immediate neighbourhood? Acquaintances?"</p> + +<p>Elizabeth considered:</p> + +<p>"Acquaintances is the word, because we were not on really intimate terms +with our neighbours in the Cité; for the most part they are either art +students or work-people. However, we saw fairly often a nice man, a +stranger, a Dutchman I think he was, called Monsieur Van Hoeren; he +manufactures accordions; and lives in a little house opposite ours, with +six children; he has been a widower for years! Also there was a Monsieur +Louis, an engraver, who used to take tea with us in the evening +sometimes, his wife also: he is employed in the Posts and Telegraphs. We +had practically no other acquaintances."</p> + +<p>Elizabeth stopped. There was a silence. Fandor asked another question:</p> + +<p>"Tell me, mademoiselle, when you entered the studio for the first time +after the tragedy, did you notice anything abnormal?"</p> + +<p>The poor girl shuddered at the appalling picture before her mind's eye:</p> + +<p>"Good Heavens, monsieur," she cried, "I did not examine the studio +minutely! I had only one thought—to be with my brother, who had been so +unjustly accused, so ..."</p> + +<p>Fandor interrupted to ask:</p> + +<p>"Do you not know that at his preliminary examination your brother +declared that he had not received a single visitor during the evening +preceding the tragedy? How then do you explain the fact that the +Baroness de Vibray was found dead in his studio, and at his side, when +no one had seen her enter it? Did your brother make a mistake? Please +tell me what you think about it!"</p> + +<p>Elizabeth gazed anxiously at the young journalist, then fixed her eyes +on the floor. Her hands twitched; she began to twist her fingers +feverishly:</p> + +<p>"Do trust me!" begged Jérôme Fandor. "Please tell me what you think!"</p> + +<p>Elizabeth rose, took several steps, and placed herself in front of the +journalist:</p> + +<p>"Ah, monsieur, there is something mysterious, which I cannot explain! As +a matter of fact, someone must have come to see my brother that evening: +I cannot assert it as a fact beyond dispute certainly: but in my own +mind I feel quite sure about it."</p> + +<p>"But you must have more proof of it than that?" cried Fandor.</p> + +<p>"But—there is more!" cried Elizabeth, as if enlightened by a sudden +discovery: "There is a fact!..."</p> + +<p>"Tell me, do!" cried Fandor, intensely interested.</p> + +<p>"Well, just imagine, then! Among the papers scattered over his table, +and close to his book, which was open, I noticed a sort of list of names +and addresses, written on our own note-paper, and in the kind of green +ink we use—so—well ..."</p> + +<p>"So," interrupted the journalist, "you came to the conclusion that this +list had been written at your brother's house?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and it was not my brother's handwriting."</p> + +<p>"Nor that of the Baroness de Vibray?"</p> + +<p>"Nor that of the Baroness de Vibray!"</p> + +<p>"And what did this list contain?"</p> + +<p>"Names, addresses, I tell you, of persons we knew. There were also two +or three dates...."</p> + +<p>"And is that all?"</p> + +<p>"That is all, monsieur: I saw nothing else!"</p> + +<p>"Little enough," murmured Fandor, disappointed. "Still no detail, +however slight, must be ignored!... What have you done with that list, +mademoiselle?"</p> + +<p>"I must have taken it with me when I collected all the papers I could +find the day before yesterday, before going to the boarding-house at +Auteuil."</p> + +<p>"When you have an opportunity, will you bring me that list?" requested +Fandor.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The conversation was interrupted. A boy came to tell Fandor that he was +wanted on the telephone by someone in the Public Prosecutor's Office.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Later on in the day Jérôme Fandor sent the following express message to +Elizabeth Dollon:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><i>"Do not believe a word of the Police Headquarters' version which +you will read in this evening's 'La Capitale.'"</i></p></div> + +<p>This despatched, our journalist commenced his article entitled:</p> + +<h4><span class="smcap">Still the Affair of the Rue Norvins</span></h4> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Police Headquarters takes a view of this affair which is the very +reverse of that taken by our contributor, Jérôme Fandor.</i></p> + +<p><i>By the Seine sewer, the roofs of the Palace, and the chimney of +Marie Antoinette, an inspector has succeeded in reaching the +Dépôt.</i></p> + +<p><i>Police Headquarters is convinced that Jacques Dollon escaped +alive!</i></p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="VII" id="VII"></a>VII</h2> + +<h3>PEARLS AND DIAMONDS</h3> + + +<p>"Nadine!"</p> + +<p>"Princess!"</p> + +<p>"Nadine, what time is it?"</p> + +<p>The young Circassian, with hair as black as ink, souple and slender, +rose from her chair and was hastening from the bedroom to ascertain the +time when her mistress recalled her:</p> + +<p>"Don't go away, Nadine! Stay with me!"</p> + +<p>The dusky Circassian obeyed: she stared with big, astonished eyes into +those of her mistress:</p> + +<p>"But, Princess, why don't you wish me to go?"</p> + +<p>The Princess stammered in a mysterious tone:</p> + +<p>"Don't you know then, Nadine, that to-day is the anniversary?... and I +am frightened!"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Princess Sonia Danidoff was in her bath robe. It must have been a +quarter past eleven, or even nearer midnight than that. Although she had +lived in Paris for years, she had never been able to make up her mind to +settle in a flat of her own. Possessing an immense fortune, she much +preferred the American way of living, and had taken a suite of rooms in +one of those great palace-hotels near the place de l'Etoile. Though a +very smart staff of servants was reserved for her exclusive use, her +favourite attendant was a pretty Circassian, in whom she had absolute +confidence. This Nadine was a native of Southern Russia. The movement of +city life and civilised manners and customs had at first terrified this +little savage; but she had learned to adapt herself to her changed +surroundings, and was now high in the favour of Princess Sonia. She, and +she alone, was authorised to be present when the beautiful great lady +took her daily baths. For some years past the Princess had insisted on +the presence of a maid when she took her baths: without fail they must +either be in the bathroom itself, or in the room next to it, within +reach or call. But on this particular evening Sonia Danidoff, more +nervous and restless than usual, would not allow Nadine to leave her for +a second. As to the time—well, if she did not know the exact time it +could not be helped! Really it did not matter to her whether she were +half an hour or no, for the ball given in her honour by Thomery, the +millionaire sugar refiner: in fact, it would be much better to make her +appearance after all the guests had assembled—her arrival would give +the crowning touch of brilliancy to this society function.</p> + +<p>Sonia Danidoff had pronounced the word "anniversary" in a tone of +anguish so sincere that Nadine was genuinely alarmed. She knew, only too +well, what this fatal word meant to her mistress.</p> + +<p>She had not forgotten that five years ago to the day, just when the +Princess was enjoying her evening bath, a mysterious individual had +appeared before her, who, after frightening her, had robbed her of a +large sum of money. The adventure would have been little out of the +ordinary, for hotel robberies are frequent, had not the audacious bandit +been quickly identified as the enigmatic and elusive Fantômas, whose +prodigious reputation had only increased with the passage of the years.</p> + +<p>Sonia Danidoff, who was not ignorant of the dramatic adventures imputed +to this legendary hero, could not bear to think of the position she had +been placed in that awful night, when, threatened and robbed by +Fantômas, she had escaped death by a series of unknown and unguessable +circumstances: the tormenting mystery of it all had preyed insistently +upon her mind. Since then Sonia Danidoff had never taken a bath without +thinking of Fantômas; and every year when the anniversary of his +aggression came round she suffered cruelly: she was seized with wild, +unreasoning fears at the idea that she might see this terrifying bandit +appear before her again, and that this time he would be merciless.</p> + +<p>Nadine knew all this. She also shuddered at the vision this horrible +anniversary evoked, but controlling herself, she was anxious to change +the current of her dear mistress's thoughts:</p> + +<p>"Forget, try to forget, Sonia Danidoff," she counselled in her melodious +voice: "You are going to a ball—at Monsieur Thomery's—at your fiancé's +house!"</p> + +<p>The Princess shuddered:</p> + +<p>"Ah, Nadine, my Nadine!" she cried, raising herself, and regarding her +maid with a strange look: "I cannot overcome my uneasiness—my +alarms!... This coincidence of date agitates me.... You know how +superstitious we are at home—in our Russia—and the life I lead in +Paris has not destroyed in me the simplicity of soul of a daughter of +the Steppes!"</p> + +<p>Nadine did not know what reply to make to this pathetic outburst. The +Princess went on:</p> + +<p>"And then, do you see, I think it wrong of Monsieur Thomery to even want +to give this ball, only a fortnight after the tragic death of that poor +Baroness de Vibray!... I tried to dissuade him from it.... I think the +Baroness was his most intimate friend once!..."</p> + +<p>"So it is said," murmured Nadine.</p> + +<p>Sonia Danidoff went on, as if speaking to herself:</p> + +<p>"I am not sure of it ... it is precisely to remove this suspicion from +my mind that Thomery was determined to have his ball to-night at all +costs!... The Baroness de Vibray, so he told me, was no more than a good +old friend.... I cannot make her death an excuse for putting off the +announcement of our marriage ... that would be to give colour to +scandal."</p> + +<p>Sonia Danidoff shrugged her beautiful shoulders:</p> + +<p>"Hand me a mirror!"</p> + +<p>Nadine obeyed. The Princess gazed long and complacently at the +marvellously lovely face reflected in the glass.</p> + +<p>"Princess," cried Nadine, "you must leave the bath, you will be late +otherwise!"</p> + +<p>In the adjacent dressing-room, brilliantly illuminated by electric +light, the Princess dressed with the aid of Nadine, proud and happy to +be the sole assistant of her beloved mistress. The toilet was a triumph: +silk of an exquisite blue, draped with silk muslin incrusted with pointe +de Venise and bands of ermine: a costly masterpiece of the dressmaker's +art. It enhanced the brilliant beauty of Sonia Danidoff, and threw +Nadine into raptures.</p> + +<p>The Princess opened her jewel-box:</p> + +<p>"This evening, Nadine, I shall be pearls and diamonds!" cried the lovely +creature, as she fixed two large grey pearls in her ears.</p> + +<p>"Oh, how beautiful you are, Princess! And what a lot they must have +cost!" cried Nadine.</p> + +<p>"Ten thousand francs, my child, on each side of my head!"</p> + +<p>Sonia slipped on her fingers three diamond rings set in platinum:</p> + +<p>"And here are eight or nine thousand francs more," continued she, as +Nadine's eyes grew round with wonder: her mind could hardly grasp all +these thousands of francs-worth of diamonds and pearls. There were still +more to come; for, rejecting a magnificent bracelet, on the plea that +one no longer wore them at balls, the Princess smilingly bade her +Circassian fasten round her neck a superb triple collar of pearls. To +this was added a sparkling cascade of diamonds. Never had Nadine seen +her beautiful mistress so richly dressed. Thus adorned, in Nadine's +eyes, Sonia Danidoff was dazzlingly beautiful, exquisitely lovely.</p> + +<p>"You look like the Holy Virgin on the icons!" stammered Nadine, +kneeling before her mistress, quite overcome by emotion.</p> + +<p>"Good Heavens! That is blasphemy! I am only a humble human creature!" +said the Princess smiling. Then she once more looked at herself in the +mirrors, well satisfied with her appearance, certain of the effect she +would produce on her future husband Thomery. She threw over her +shoulders a superb mantle of zibeline which was quite needed, for, +though it was the middle of April, it was quite cold.</p> + +<p>Then, ready at last, she descended to her motor-car, and was whirled +away to the ball.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"Cranajour!... Cranajour!"</p> + +<p>Mother Toulouche shouted herself breathless: she tried to shout louder +and louder. It was in vain. She might shout herself hoarse—there was no +reply.</p> + +<p>The old termagant, who had left the front of her hovel and had gone to +call her assistant, shouting in the passage at the back of the store, +returned cursing and swearing, and seated herself near the store in the +lean-to which did duty as a kitchen:</p> + +<p>"Where in the devil's name has that imbecile got to?" she grumbled, +whilst sipping with gusts from the bottom of a cup, into which she had +poured a small allowance of coffee and a copious ration of rum. It was +about eleven in the evening. There was not a sound to be heard.</p> + +<p>Having finished her rum and tea the old receiver of stolen goods went to +the entrance of the passage:</p> + +<p>"Cranajour!... Cranajour!" yelled the old termagant.</p> + +<p>There was no answer.</p> + +<p>"He can't possibly be in his canteen," said Mother Toulouche to herself. +"If he was he'd have answered, fool though he is, and would have come +down!... Sure he's gone to drag his old down-at-heels somewhere—but +where?... Oh, well, we can manage to do without him!"</p> + +<p>The old receiver went back to her store, and was starting on a queer +sort of job when the door, which led on to the quay, burst open before a +panting, breathless individual. He ran right up the store and stopped +short. Mother Toulouche had seized the first thing she could find, and +had taken up a defensive attitude. Her weapon was a great ancient +cavalry sabre!</p> + +<p>But the newcomer intended no harm—quite the contrary! After an +instinctive recoil, he leaned against a table and wiped his forehead, +breathing in gasps, incapable of pronouncing a syllable.</p> + +<p>Mother Toulouche had recognised him:</p> + +<p>"Ah! It's you, Redhead!... And not a bit too soon either! I've been +waiting for you this last half-hour! Ernestine will be there in ten +minutes' time! However is it you are so late?"</p> + +<p>Redhead was well named! His bullet-head was covered with russet-red +hair, cut very short; his complexion was a good match; his bloated +cheeks and his potato-shaped nose were covered with red patches; his +shaven chin was a tawny red; round his little gimlet eyes was a fringe +of red lashes: it was a bestial face.</p> + +<p>He was hatless; above his waistcoat with metal buttons he wore a black +coat; his trousers had a yellow line down them: he was evidently a +servant, wearing the livery of some big house. The fellow was slowly +recovering his breath; but he continued to wipe great drops of sweat off +his narrow forehead; he was shaking all over, and his morose countenance +was twitching and contracting nervously.</p> + +<p>"Well, what's your news? Good or bad?" questioned Mother Toulouche in a +brutal tone.</p> + +<p>Redhead replied almost inaudibly:</p> + +<p>"That depends!... It's good on the whole."</p> + +<p>A gleam of cupidity showed in the old receiver's eyes:</p> + +<p>"Got a bit of tin on her back, that woman—eh?"</p> + +<p>Redhead nodded a "yes." Thereupon Mother Toulouche went into her back +store and returned with a claret glass filled to the brim with rum:</p> + +<p>"Shoot that down your throat! That'll put you right!"</p> + +<p>When he had swallowed the bumper he seemed to gain courage, and said:</p> + +<p>"If I didn't get here sooner it's because I had to wait—but I saw the +little thing...."</p> + +<p>"What's her name?"</p> + +<p>"Nadine," replied Redhead, and added: "A pretty little brat, too!... +She's got some fire in her eyes!"</p> + +<p>"What's that to do with it?" interrupted Mother Toulouche.</p> + +<p>"You don't mean to tell me you were able to make her gabble a bit?" she +queried contemptuously.</p> + +<p>Redhead bridled: "Likely, since I know everything now ... and I'm her +sweetheart, let me tell you!"</p> + +<p>Mother Toulouche said in a jeering tone:</p> + +<p>"You don't tell me! You!"</p> + +<p>"Oh," replied Redhead, "it's just a way of speaking. She's a good little +thing—there's nothing to it, you know!"</p> + +<p>"So much the worse!" declared Mother Toulouche. "Virtuous sorts aren't +any use to our lot!... Well—what did she tell you—out with it!"</p> + +<p>"Well," said Redhead, "I waited three-quarters of an hour before Nadine +joined me.... I had no bother in making her talk, I can tell you: +without the asking she told me everything ... she was pretty well +flabbergasted with all the jewels her mistress had stuck on her clothes +and her skin.... Seems there's hundreds of thousands' worth!... All +pearls and diamonds! Nothing but...."</p> + +<p>Mother Toulouche was calculating:</p> + +<p>"Real pearls, real diamonds—it's possible there's all that worth!"</p> + +<p>Steps could be heard on the pavement just outside.</p> + +<p>Redhead began to shake all over:</p> + +<p>"Who is it?" he asked. "Someone coming in?"</p> + +<p>Mother Toulouche grinned:</p> + +<p>"Be easy, then! Haven't I told you there's nothing to fear?"</p> + +<p>Nevertheless he asked anxiously:</p> + +<p>"There's nothing more I'm wanted for here, is there? I've told you all I +know."</p> + +<p>"No, no, it's all right!" replied Mother Toulouche, maternal and +conciliating, "there's nothing more for you to do here.... Still, if you +want to see big Ernestine...."</p> + +<p>Without waiting to hear the end of her sentence Redhead hurried towards +the exit. Mother Toulouche did not try to detain him:</p> + +<p>"After all," she said in a low tone to his back as a kind of farewell, +"cut your sticks, my lad ... since you're funky!"</p> + +<p>When alone she grumbled aloud:</p> + +<p>"What a lot they are!... I never did!... White-livered, and for nothing +at all!"</p> + +<p>Mother Toulouche was still muttering when big Ernestine marched in +through the back way. She had on a large hat and was heavily veiled. She +proceeded to remove both hat and veil:</p> + +<p>"Well?" she queried.</p> + +<p>"They've got on to it all right! Redhead has just gone! He knows through +the little maid that the Princess went off to the ball, dressed up to +the nines—hung with jewels like a shrine!"</p> + +<p>Big Ernestine uttered a deep sigh of satisfaction: her only reply was to +hustle the old receiver:</p> + +<p>"Look alive, Mother Toulouche!... You've got to give me a beggar's +outfit: it's up to you to see I'm disguised properly, and there's not a +minute to lose either!"</p> + +<p>Mother Toulouche was an expert at disguises and make-up of every sort: +this was not to be wondered at, considering the queer company she kept, +and the fraudulent business she carried on, and the smuggling she was +mixed up in!</p> + +<p>Big Ernestine, disguised as a poverty-stricken creature and rendered +unrecognisable, looked exactly like some unfortunate reduced to +soliciting alms. She walked into the back store, and helped Mother +Toulouche to take from a cupboard some bottles, bandages, and medicated +cotton-wool. By the light of a smoky lamp the two women scrutinised the +labels, sniffing the various phials and flasks. Big Ernestine, with the +aid of Mother Toulouche, prepared compresses of pomade and cotton-wool, +on which she sprinkled a few drops of a yellow liquid, giving out a +sickening odour. Besides this big Ernestine put inside her bodice a long +phial, after making certain that the mixture, with which it was full, +contained chloroform....</p> + +<p>Then, under Mother Toulouche's watchful eye, Ernestine prepared what was +called in that world of light-fingered gentry "the mask": a mask of +cotton, which is moulded by force on the face of the victim in order to +plunge him, or her, into a heavy sleep. Whilst making these sinister +preparations the two women talked as they went on with their evil task. +Big Ernestine said, in reply to Mother Toulouche's questionings:</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's simple enough! It's like this:... When the motor-car stops I +shall go to the right-hand door and begin to beg ... likely enough, the +Princess won't want to hear what I have to say, but while I attract her +attention, Mimile, who will be on the other side, will open the door, +and will stick the compress on her mug.... She won't struggle—besides, +Mimile will have hold of her—and then I'll have had time to see where +her jewels are, and how they are fastened, and then I'll soon have them +in my pocket—my deep 'un!"</p> + +<p>Mother Toulouche nodded:</p> + +<p>"It's arranged all right, but how will you arrest the motor?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, that's where the others come in; they'll do it all right.... I +expect they're seeing to it now!..."</p> + +<p>"But, look here," cried Mother Toulouche, "Mimile isn't in bits then? +They said he had fallen from his flier!"</p> + +<p>Big Ernestine gave a laugh:</p> + +<p>"He fell right enough, poor little fellow, and from pretty high too—but +he's not broken a thing ... not this time ... a bit of luck I don't +think—eh?"</p> + +<p>"He's a mascot, I'm certain," declared Mother Toulouche. Then she said: +"You spoke of the others?... Who are they—the others?"</p> + +<p>"But didn't they tell you?" cried the surprised Ernestine, for she +thought old Mother Toulouche was in the know: "Why, there's the +Beadle—and the Beard...."</p> + +<p>"Oh," cried Mother Toulouche, much impressed: "If the Beard's in it, +then it's a serious affair!"</p> + +<p>"Yes," replied big Ernestine, staring hard at the old receiver of stolen +goods: "It's serious all right! If the chloroform doesn't work—oh, well +... they'll bring the knife into play...."</p> + +<p>Big Ernestine looked at her little silver watch to mark the time:</p> + +<p>"Past midnight!" she remarked: "I must hurry off and see what they're up +to!"</p> + +<p>As she was making off Mother Toulouche stopped her:</p> + +<p>"Have a glass of rum to start on—it puts heart into you!"</p> + +<p>The two women were quite ready for a drink together. When they had +swallowed their dose, big Ernestine smacked her tongue:</p> + +<p>"Famous stuff!... It puts a heart into you and no mistake!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, it's the right stuff—the best," agreed Mother Toulouche: "It's +what Nibet prefers!" she added. Then she cried: "But Nibet, how ... +isn't he in it?"</p> + +<p>Big Ernestine put a finger on her lips:</p> + +<p>"Nibet's in it of course—as he always is—you know that, old +Toulouche—but he's content to show the way—you know he seldom does +anything himself ... besides, it seems he's on duty at the dépôt +to-night!"</p> + +<p>Big Ernestine threw an old shawl over her head and went off crying:</p> + +<p>"I'm off, and in for it now!... Soon be back, Mother Toulouche!"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The magnificent mansion of Thomery, the sugar refiner, overlooked the +park Monceau. It was approached by a very quiet little avenue, in which +were a few big houses: it opened on to the boulevard Malesherbes, and +was known as the avenue de Valois. All the dwellings there are +sumptuous, richly inhabited, and if the avenue is peaceful and silent by +day, it is no uncommon thing to see it of an evening crowded with +carriages and luxurious motor-cars, come to fetch the owners away to +dinners and entertainments.</p> + +<p>On this particular evening the approaches to the avenue de Valois were +full of animation. Motors and broughams succeeded one another in a long +file, putting down the guests of Thomery under an immense marquee, +covering the steps leading up to the vestibule.</p> + +<p>All the smart world had been invited to the reception: all Paris swarmed +into the brilliantly illuminated entrance-halls of the mansion.</p> + +<p>Two mounted policemen sat as immovable as bronze caryatides on either +side of the entrance, whilst a swarm of policemen made the carriages +move on, and drove away from the aristocratic avenue de Valois the band +of poverty-stricken and ragged creatures who crowded the pavement with +the hope of securing a handsome tip by opening a carriage door or +picking up some fallen object.</p> + +<p>It was no easy matter to keep order. One of the police sergeants +accustomed to ceremonial functions remarked to one of his younger +colleagues:</p> + +<p>"I have seen balls and receptions enough! Well, my boy, this Thomery +affair is as fine a set out as if it were at the President's!"</p> + +<p>Although it was one o'clock in the morning, both on the boulevard +Malesherbes and at the entrance to the rue de Monceau there was movement +and activity. If, as seemed likely, there was a crush in the great +reception-rooms of the Thomery mansion, it was certain that outside the +crowd had to form up in line to get near the counters, where the wine +sellers were serving their customers without a moment's +intermission—serving them with drinks of every description. Thus there +was a hubbub, there was noise and roystering clamour all around. Most of +the chauffeurs, coachmen, and servants knew one another.</p> + +<p>Mingling with all this aristocracy of the servant class were +pickpockets, mendicants obsequious and wheedling, who offered themselves +as understudies to these of the upper ten of the servant world, and +these aristocrats were ready to seize this chance of a little liberty, +and at the same time play the generous patron to these poor failures in +life's battle. In fact they gave more generous tips than their masters; +for did they not rub shoulders with misery and thus realise, only too +vividly, the measureless horrors of destitution?</p> + +<p>Ernestine and Mimile lost themselves in the noisy crowd. They were all +eyes and ears for everything going on around them, whilst keeping in +view their two accomplices, the Beadle and the Beard. This was more than +usually difficult, because they were disguised almost out of +recognition. The Beard was muffled in a blue blouse and a big soft hat, +which gave him the look of a peasant, who had wandered into a crowd with +which he had nothing in common. The Beadle was capitally disguised as a +coachman in good service who is out of a situation, but who, from vanity +and custom, sports the emblems of office.</p> + +<p>He was continually chewing a quid of tobacco; for such is the habit of +coachmen who cannot smoke on their seats, and thus console themselves +with two sous' worth of roll tobacco.</p> + +<p>The Beadle stopped beside a chauffeur who had just got down from his +car, a magnificent limousine, lined with cream cloth, while its exterior +was a dark maroon in the best taste.</p> + +<p>"Why, it's Casimir!" cried the Beadle, going up to the chauffeur with +hands outstretched and smiling face.</p> + +<p>Mechanically the chauffeur, addressed as Casimir, responded to the +offered handclasp. But, after a short silence, he said in a questioning +tone, quite frankly:</p> + +<p>"I cannot recall you."</p> + +<p>"Can't you remember me!" cried the Beadle. "Why, don't you remember +César—César who was with Rothschild last year?"</p> + +<p>No, Casimir could not remember. But he was quite willing to believe that +he knew César, for he had seen and known so many since he had been in +the service of Princess Sonia Danidoff, that there was nothing +extraordinary about his forgetfulness. Besides, César looked quite a +decent fellow, and had a taking face, and one only had to look at that +beaming countenance of his to be sure that an invitation to take a drink +together would soon be forthcoming!</p> + +<p>The Beadle, satisfied that he had so easily made a friend of the +chauffeur of Sonia Danidoff, whom he had only known by sight for the +last forty-eight hours, did in fact suggest their taking a glass +together. The Beadle had indeed come up to expectations!</p> + +<p>Drink was Casimir's besetting sin. Excellent chauffeur, solid and +serious fellow as he was, he had two defects: he was addicted to +tippling, though he never drank to excess, and never got drunk. Also, he +was fond of a gossip: he could talk for hours without stopping.</p> + +<p>The Beadle had been posted up regarding Casimir's little weaknesses and +tastes. Thus nothing was easier than to set trap after trap, into each +of which the simple fellow fell as they were set—fell fatally.</p> + +<p>The Beadle introduced the Beard to Casimir under the name of Father +India-rubber: an old codger, whose trade was to buy and sell tyres to +chauffeurs, tyres new and also second-hand. At this moment a young +ragamuffin appeared on the scenes: he asked if he might be left in +charge of the car. It was Mimile. The young hooligan, who had followed +the conversation of the three men, and of Casimir in particular, whilst +keeping in the background, now intervened at the right moment. He made +his offer just as the chauffeur was looking about him in hopes of +finding some poverty-stricken creatures into whose charge he could give +his car. Casimir gave him twenty sous as an earnest of what was to +follow in the way of coin, saying:</p> + +<p>"Take great care of my little shanty! Don't let anyone come mouching +around it, and when I return you shall have double what you've just +had!"</p> + +<p>"Thank you, master!" cried Mimile, bowing low before the chauffeur: "You +may rest assured I shall keep a good look out!"</p> + +<p>Mimile exchanged signs of understanding with his two accomplices, whilst +they, talking as they went, drew the innocent Casimir towards the +nearest tavern, which was crowded with wine-bibbers.</p> + +<p>Mimile, as faithful guardian of the limousine, soon got bored, although +big Ernestine was prowling around, and came to have a minute's talk with +him now and again: they dared not be seen together too much for fear of +attracting attention. As time went on, Mimile was surprised that neither +the Beadle nor the Beard came to report progress. But at long last the +majestic outline of the Beard was seen at the corner of the rue Monceau. +The pretended seller of india-rubber was coming out of the tavern.</p> + +<p>He hastened to Mimile and, in a low, distinct voice, he gave him some +hurried instructions, for now there was no time to lose:</p> + +<p>"That idiot would never get done with his stories about motor-cars, and +all that stuff and rubbish—what's that to us? But—keep your ears open +now, Mimile—it seems there are still fifteen litres of petrol in the +tank, and that would take it a long way, for the motor consumes very +little.... But this shanty has got to stop about five hundred yards from +here, at the corner of the rue de Monceau and the rue de Téhéran ... +it's by this way Casimir will take his Baroness back from the ball.... +Well, what you have to do is to take fourteen litres and a half from +that tank and pitch them in the gutter!... When Casimir finds that his +petrol has given out, he will have to go in search of more ... it's +during his absence that we will work the trick on the pretty +Princess—we'll perform an operation on her, and amputate +her—jewellery—the whole lot!"</p> + +<p>The Beard drew from under his blouse an empty bottle, which he had +stolen in the tavern:</p> + +<p>"Here's your measure! Count carefully fourteen litres and a half—that +done, wait quietly till Casimir turns up: your part in the story will be +forty sous, and not to rouse his suspicions; then, while he goes up the +avenue de Valois to take up the Princess, you and Ernestine have to +gallop off to the corner of the rue de Monceau and the rue de Téhéran, +then ... wait!"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Mimile, with the agility of a monkey and the ability of a first-rate +chauffeur—for there was nothing he did not know in the way of applied +mechanics, as became an aviator—executed to the letter his accomplice's +orders.</p> + +<p>The Beard meanwhile had returned to the tavern and Casimir.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Suddenly, all was activity in the world of carriages and coachmen! The +great ball was drawing to its end. Casimir was once more in possession +of his motor, and had generously tipped his understudy: thereupon the +hooligan had made off as fast as his legs could carry him. Ernestine +joined him at the appointed spot: there the two rogues waited. +"Listen!" cried big Ernestine some fifteen minutes later.</p> + +<p>She stared in the direction of the boulevard Malesherbes, with neck +outstretched and straining eyeballs. At last, after an agonising wait, +she and Mimile saw the carriages driving by. "Attention!" cried big +Ernestine in a sharp whisper ... "everybody's on the move at last!"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The Beadle and the Beard, hidden in the crowd which thronged the +approaches to the Thomery mansion, awaited the departure of Princess +Sonia Danidoff: the idea of this rich prey excited them. Then as they +stared at the first outflow of departing guests, the two bandits could +not but notice that far from looking gay and animated as people do who +have danced and supped well, these guests of Thomery showed pale, +dejected faces: in fact, they had all the appearance of people under the +influence of some tragic emotion.</p> + +<p>"They look pretty down in the mouth, don't they?" whispered the Beard in +the Beadle's ear.</p> + +<p>"That's a fact! You'd think they were returning from a funeral!"</p> + +<p>Then a vague rumour began to circulate; confirmation followed, spread +insensibly within the Thomery mansion, was passed on by the lackeys, +spread from the pavements to the avenue. People whispered of +incomprehensible things incredible, but which little by little took +definite shape. It was said that the Thomery ball had just become the +scene of an accident, of a drama, of a robbery, of a crime!... The +police, and of the highest grade, had intervened.... The news spread +like a train of ignited gunpowder.... Nevertheless, if Thomery's guests +were cognisant of the details, they did not take the beggars and +pickpockets into their confidence: among the light-fingered gentry +conjectures were rife.</p> + +<p>The Beadle and the Beard, who tried to catch odds and ends of talk +separately, joined each other again, looking crestfallen, discomfited. +The Beadle broke silence, with an oath, adding:</p> + +<p>"I am certain we have been done ... someone has got in before us—been +too smart for us!"</p> + +<p>Beard nodded: he was of the same opinion.</p> + +<p>But who then could have had the audacity to plan such an attempt and +carry it out, too? Who could have had the same idea as he and his +comrades, and to realise it successfully? Whoever it was had proved +himself the better man. In spite of himself the bandit, in thought, +formulated one word:</p> + +<p>Fantômas!</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="VIII" id="VIII"></a>VIII</h2> + +<h3>END OF THE BALL</h3> + + +<p>When Sonia Danidoff entered Thomery's ball-room she made a sensation. It +was not far off midnight when she appeared in all her brilliant beauty +and dazzling array, leaning on the arm of her host and fiancé, who bore +his honours proudly. Dancers paused to admire this handsome couple; then +the Hungarian band redoubled their efforts, and the whirling, eddying +waltz started afresh, more gay, more inspiriting than before.</p> + +<p>In a corner opposite the musicians a group of persons were in animated +talk: among them Sonia Danidoff, Thomery, and Jérôme Fandor. Music was +their theme, some admired Wagner and the classics, others voted for the +moderns, for the sugariest of waltzes, for the romantic, the bizarre.</p> + +<p>"For the profane like myself," declared Thomery, laughing, "gipsy music +has its charms!"</p> + +<p>"Oh," cried Sonia Danidoff, "you are not going to tell me that such +hackneyed things as <i>The Smile of Spring</i> and <i>The Blush Rose Waltz</i> are +to your taste!"</p> + +<p>Her tone was reproachful, but her smile was charming.</p> + +<p>Nanteuil, the fashionable banker, who was fluttering about the Princess, +hastened to take her side:</p> + +<p>"Come now, Thomery, you would not put your signature to that?"</p> + +<p>Jérôme Fandor, who had just joined the group, declared:</p> + +<p>"For my part, I thoroughly agree with you, my dear Monsieur Thomery!"</p> + +<p>Sonia Danidoff looked her surprise.</p> + +<p>Thomery replied, with a touch of malice:</p> + +<p>"Monsieur Fandor is like myself—the Tonkinoise is more to his taste!"</p> + +<p>"More than Wagner's operatic big guns!" finished Fandor.</p> + +<p>Then turning to the Princess who still wore her air of surprise:</p> + +<p>"Yes, Princess, I confess it—my taste in music is deplorable: it comes +from absolute ignorance. I do not understand these modern +symphonies—the simple romantic suits me best!"</p> + +<p>"And that is?" ... queried Nanteuil:</p> + +<p>"Just some music-hall air or ditty," answered Fandor with a smile as +frank as his confession.</p> + +<p>The Princess was amused at this little pseudo-artistic discussion. She +was about to speak when a couple of waltzers broke into the group and +scattered it.</p> + +<p>Jérôme Fandor slipped away and wandered through the gorgeous reception +rooms. Here and there, when caught up in the throng and forced to halt, +or when pressed against the wall of the ball-room, scraps of +conversation, mingled with the strains of the Hungarian band, fell on +his retentive ears. He took refuge at last in the embrasure of a window; +but his retreat was soon invaded by two young men who, he gathered, had +run across each other in the gallery, and were continuing their talk +about old times and new.</p> + +<p>"Come, tell me, dear Charley, what has been happening to you since we +left the school?"</p> + +<p>"Bah! I go from the Madeleine to the Opera nearly every evening, and +then back again; I go to bed late and get up late; I go out a good deal, +as you see; sometimes I dance, but very rarely; I often play bridge ... +and that is about all! It's not very interesting; but you, old boy ... I +heard you had got a jolly good billet, my dear Andral!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, hardly that, dear fellow; but I am well on the way to one, I +fancy. I had the good luck to be introduced to Thomery, and it so +happened he was wanting a young engineer for one of his sugar +plantations in San Domingo."</p> + +<p>"Good Lord! At San Domingo, among the niggers?"</p> + +<p>"That's right! Not so bad, though it and the boulevards are a few miles +apart! But, on the other hand, I am interested in my work, and I am +married to a charming woman—Spanish."</p> + +<p>"Won't you introduce me to your wife?"</p> + +<p>"When we are nearer to her, old fellow! I came to Paris by myself to +talk big business with Thomery. I am only here for a fortnight.... Now +do point out some of the celebrities—you know everybody!"</p> + +<p>Charley adjusted his eyeglass and looked about the room:</p> + +<p>"Ah, there's an interesting pair! That old fellow and the young one, who +are so extraordinarily alike—the Barbey-Nanteuils, bankers for +generations in the financial swim, and mixed up in all sorts of big +affairs, sugar, among them.... Look here! That's the widow of an iron +master, Allouat—she is passing close to the orchestra—not bad looking +in spite of her mahogany-coloured hair, granddaughter of a famous French +peer, Flavogny de Saint-Ange.... Ah, I breathe again!... It's a detail, +but I am quite delighted! General de Rini's daughters have at last found +partners: they are ugly, poor things, and they've dressed themselves in +rose-pink as though they were schoolgirls: a fine name, a distinguished +position, but no fortune, and no husband!... Ah, now there's someone who +looks as if he were in luck—and he is, too—matrimonial luck. The +affair is settled this evening, it's whispered. It will interest you +particularly, for the lucky fellow is none other than Thomery!"</p> + +<p>"What! Thomery?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Thomery! Although he is well over fifty, he means to commit +matrimony! I quite envy him his future wife, my Andral! There she is! +That stately dame who is going towards the last of the reception rooms +all alone, rather haughty, but a noble creature—it's Princess Sonia +Danidoff, related to the Tzar in some distant way and with an immense +fortune. Just look, dear boy, at those splendid jewels on that beautiful +neck of hers! They say she's got on seven hundred thousand francs' +worth—and the rest to match—millions to swell the sugar refiner's +pouch! She is to lead the cotillion with him, so there's no doubt about +the betrothal. By the by, you are going to stay for the cotillion?"</p> + +<p>"Hum! I..."</p> + +<p>"But you must! You simply must! We must sit together at supper, we have +still so much to say!... Besides, if you hurry off like that, I fancy +Thomery won't be best pleased. Oh, I say, there he is, coming our way! +There's no denying it, he is a fine figure of a man, though he is in the +fifties—but!... but!... but do look! What is the matter with him? He +looks as if he had seen a ghost."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Sonia Danidoff, who had been waltzing with Thomery, was a little out of +breath. A quick glance in a mirror showed the lovely Princess that her +cheeks were rather flushed:</p> + +<p>"I am scarlet," she thought, with that touch of feminine exaggeration +characteristic of her! She was a true daughter of Eve!</p> + +<p>At that exact moment she felt a slight tug at the bottom of her skirt, +and at the same time a black coat was making profuse apologies: it was +Monsieur Nanteuil:</p> + +<p>"I am in despair, Princess!" cried the banker. "But no one is quite +responsible for his movements in such a crush!... I am very much afraid +that I have stepped on the muslin of your ravishing toilette and have +slightly torn it!"</p> + +<p>The Princess protested that it did not matter in the least, and the +banker moved away, bowing low and pouring out apologies and regrets. As +soon as he had left her the Princess showed her annoyance: how could she +lead the cotillion with this tear in her dress, slight though it might +be—and the cotillion would begin in less than half an hour! Then she +remembered that her fiancé had led her, on her arrival, to a little +drawing-room, quite away from the reception rooms at the end of the +gallery, that she might leave her cloak there, saying:</p> + +<p>"Dear Princess, I have prepared this boudoir for you, and <i>you only</i>."</p> + +<p>Sonia decided to retire to this boudoir at once and repair the damage to +her dress. As she passed the cloak-room on her way a maid offered her +services. The Princess refused them. If she could not have Nadine, she +preferred to manage for herself, besides, she saw that two pins, +concealed in the silk muslin, would put her dress to rights; and a touch +of powder to her cheeks would bring her colour down to a becoming tint.</p> + +<p>She was considerably amused at the veritable arsenal of flasks and boxes +of perfumes which Thomery, as became an attentive lover, had placed +there in her honour: the little boudoir had been transformed into a +comfortable ladies' dressing-room. Everything was provided, down to a +glass of sugar and water, down to a little phial of alcohol and mint!</p> + +<p>Sonia opened a powder box; then, like all the women of her race, having +a passion for perfumes, she took up a scent sprayer and lavishly +sprinkled her throat and the lower part of her face with what was +labelled, "essence of violets."</p> + +<p>The Princess may have suffered from the intense heat of the ball-room, +and required rest without realising it, for she felt slightly faint, a +little sick—almost a desire to sleep.... She slipped down on to a low +divan, which occupied a corner of the room: she drew deep breaths, +breaking in the perfume, a sweet rather strange scent, from the +sprayer.</p> + +<p>"This scent is sickly," she thought. "If only I had some +eau-de-Cologne!"</p> + +<p>Without rising, for she felt a real lassitude stealing over her, she +looked round for the eau-de-Cologne she wanted: Thomery's arsenal did +not contain any. There was only one sprayer and that Sonia Danidoff held +in her hand.</p> + +<p>She sprinkled herself a second time, hoping that the perfume would +revive her; but, on the contrary, her fatigue increased: her eyes closed +for a moment.... When she opened them again the room was in darkness.</p> + +<p>Sonia tried to rise from the divan. An overpowering torpor, though not +disagreeable, was benumbing her whole body, and before her eyes bright +lights seemed to float, succeeded by thick darkness. Her head turned +round and round ... she strove to cry out, but her voice stuck in her +throat: her body jerked with a feeble convulsive movement. She heard +indistinctly an unknown voice murmuring:</p> + +<p>"Let yourself go!... Sleep!... Have no fear!"</p> + +<p>Sonia Danidoff essayed a momentary resistance, then she succumbed and +lost all consciousness of her surroundings....</p> + +<p>Absolute silence reigned in the boudoir Thomery had reserved for the +sole use of his beautiful betrothed, when he arrived to lead her to the +cotillion. He found the door shut. He knocked discreetly. There was no +reply. Repeated knocking evoked no audible answer. Thomery opened the +door. The room was in total darkness. He switched on the electric light: +the boudoir was brilliantly illuminated.... The sight that met his +startled eyes was so moving that he grew livid with horror and rushed to +the side of his betrothed.</p> + +<p>Sonia Danidoff was extended on the divan motionless and pale as death. A +hoarse and laboured breath came from her heaving bosom at irregular +intervals: on the exquisite skin of neck and breast were spattered +streaks of blood!</p> + +<p>Beside himself, Thomery rushed away in search of help.</p> + +<p>It was at this terrible crisis that the fiancé of Sonia Danidoff had +attracted the attention of Charley, whose friend, the young engineer +Andral, was the protégé of the man whose awful pallor and distracted air +spelt tragedy.</p> + +<p>Thomery, his countenance ravaged by intense emotion, his hands clenched, +shaken by nervous tremors, hastened, with unsteady steps, in the +direction of the gallery leading to the anteroom.</p> + +<p>Suddenly a woman's shrieks broke in on the charming harmonies of a slow +waltz, which the orchestra was rendering at the moment.... There was an +irresistible rush towards the boudoir, where two half-fainting women had +collapsed on chairs, and the famous surgeon, Dr. Marvier, was doing his +utmost to prevent the crowd from entering the room. The word went round +that a tragedy had taken place—a death! Princess Sonia Danidoff was in +the room lying dead! The words "crime" and "murder" were freely bandied +about: murmurs of "assassin," "robber," "assassination" could be heard.</p> + +<p>Some twenty of the guests who had entered the boudoir could give +details. The dreadful rumours were true. Sonia Danidoff, they declared, +was stretched out on the floor covered with blood, her breast bare, her +pearls had vanished—a horrible sight!</p> + +<p>The uproar died down; an icy silence reigned. The dancers drew together +in groups discussing the terrifying tragedy.... Several women were still +in a fainting condition; pallid men were opening windows that fresh air +might circulate in the overheated rooms; on all sides they were watching +for the return of their host.</p> + +<p>Thomery remained invisible.</p> + +<p>General de Rini called his two daughters to his side and spoke words of +affectionate encouragement, for they were much upset. The old soldier +marched off with them in the direction of the grand staircase and +towards the cloak-room on the landing. As he was preparing to take over +his coat and hat, one of the footmen went up to him and said a few words +in a low voice:</p> + +<p>"What!... What!" cried the General. "What's the meaning of this?... Not +to leave the house!... But, am I under suspicion then?... It is +shameful!... I never heard of such a thing!"</p> + +<p>A butler approached the irate General and said, very respectfully:</p> + +<p>"I beg of you, General, to speak lower! A definite order to that effect +was given us ten minutes ago. Directly Monsieur Thomery was aware of the +... accident he had the entrance doors closed and had the house +surrounded by the detectives who were downstairs on duty. The sergeant +is there to see this order carried out: you cannot leave the +premises!... It is not that you are under suspicion, General—of course +not—but perhaps in this way they may succeed in finding the guilty +person who has certainly not left the house, for no one has gone from +the house for at least an hour...."</p> + +<p>General Rini had calmed down. He understood why his host had issued the +order. He retired to a corner of the gallery with his daughters, Yvonne +and Marthe: the poor things seemed stunned.</p> + +<p>The reception rooms slowly emptied: the guests crowded on to the +verandah and into the smoking-room. There was a buzz of talk—queries, +comments, conjectures: it ceased abruptly.</p> + +<p>Monsieur Thomery had just appeared at the top of the grand staircase, +accompanied by a gentleman, whose simple black coat was in striking +contrast to the light dresses and brilliant uniforms of the guests.</p> + +<p>Someone whispered:</p> + +<p>"Monsieur Havard!"</p> + +<p>It was, in fact, the chief of the detective police force. Within a +couple of minutes of his frightful discovery, Thomery had rushed to the +telephone and had called up Police Headquarters. It was a piece of +unexpected good fortune to find Monsieur Havard there at so advanced an +hour. He had immediately responded to the call in person.</p> + +<p>Whilst crossing the reception rooms Thomery talked to him in a low +voice:</p> + +<p>"Accept my grateful thanks, Monsieur, for having answered my appeal for +help so quickly. No sooner did I discover the body of my Princess than I +lost no time in having all the exits from the premises watched. +Unfortunately I was obliged to leave my reception rooms for quite a +quarter of an hour, so that I cannot tell you what happened there. If +only I had been able to remain with my guests, I might possibly have +surprised some movement, some gesture, some look, which would have put +me on the track of this murderous thief ... unfortunately ..."</p> + +<p>Monsieur Havard interrupted, smiling:</p> + +<p>"That does not matter, Monsieur: if the guilty person is among your +guests and has in some way betrayed himself, I shall hear of it. There +are, at least, four or five plain clothes men among the dancers, I can +assure you of that."</p> + +<p>"I can assure you to the contrary!" replied Thomery—"I know my +guests—know who have been admitted here!"</p> + +<p>"I also am sure of what I say," insisted Monsieur Havard. "There is +scarcely a ball, a reception, however select it may be, where you will +not find a certain number of our men."</p> + +<p>Thomery made no reply to this: they had arrived at the door of the fatal +room. The doctor was standing beside the victim. Dr. Marvier reassured +Monsieur Havard. He announced that the Princess had been almost +literally felled to the ground by a most powerful soporific and was in +no real danger: she would certainly regain consciousness in the course +of an hour or two.... But she must be kept perfectly quiet: that was +absolutely necessary.</p> + +<p>Monsieur Havard did not question the doctor's statement. After a rapid +glance he was able to form his own opinion. There had been no struggle: +the victim's wounds were due to the haste with which the thief had torn +the jewels from Sonia Danidoff's neck. He next considered the two +windows which, with the door opening on to the gallery, were the only +means of entrance and exit the room had. There were strong iron shutters +behind the windows: these could not be very easily opened: in any case, +it was impossible to close them again from the outside. The thief must +have been in the house, probably in the ball-room, and had followed the +Princess into this little retiring-room.... But what had been the +Princess's motive for coming here alone? Monsieur Havard had learned +that the room had not been thrown open to the other guests. Then he +perceived that the lace at the bottom of her dress was undone. He bent +down and examined it carefully: two pins, hastily stuck in, kept +together a piece of this lace.... The conclusion Monsieur Havard came to +was, that the Princess having a rent in her dress had wished to be alone +for a minute or two in order to repair the damage, and that while she +was stooping towards the bottom of her skirt the assassin had thrown her +to the ground and despoiled her of her jewels.</p> + +<p>The chief of the detective force turned to Thomery abruptly:</p> + +<p>"I shall be obliged to follow a course of action which may rather annoy +your guests; but they must excuse me. Everything leads me to think that +the guilty person is on the premises, since no one has gone away.... I +must hold an investigation at once. I am going to cross-examine your +guests—probe them thoroughly—and I wish to put them through their +paces in your office, Monsieur Thomery, one by one.... I will begin ... +with you ... so that your guests take my questioning with a good grace +... it is only a mere matter of form—a pure formality!..."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The investigations were lengthy and trying and led to no result +whatever.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Fandor, who was preoccupied by this fresh drama in which he had taken +some part—far too slight to please him—was putting on his overcoat +when he stopped dead.</p> + +<p>A voice—an unrecognisable voice—had murmured in his ear:</p> + +<p>"Attention! Fandor!... It is serious!..."</p> + +<p>Our journalist turned round in a flash. Ah, this time he would find out +who the mysterious unknown was—the unknown, who wished to influence by +word written and word spoken, the course of these investigations he had +taken in hand:</p> + +<p>Anonymous friend?</p> + +<p>Concealed adversary?</p> + +<p>He must, at all costs, clear up the mystery.</p> + +<p>A dozen people were crowding round Fandor, insisting on being attended +to in the cloak-room.</p> + +<p>No one noticed the journalist....</p> + +<p>No one seemed interested in what he was doing....</p> + +<p>Fandor examined every one of Thomery's guests who were standing about +him. He knew some of them by name, some he knew by sight. He searched +their faces with penetrating eyes; but, in vain.... Some were +common-place looking, others calm, others impenetrable:</p> + +<p>"Hang it all," he grumbled. He went off furious and upset.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="IX" id="IX"></a>IX</h2> + +<h3>FINGER PRINTS</h3> + + +<p>After having interrogated all the witnesses of last night's tragedy he +could get into touch with, Jérôme Fandor returned to the Palais de +Justice.</p> + +<p>"All the same," he confessed to himself, "I must admit that, up to the +present, I do not know anything very definite about it. This Princess +Sonia Danidoff has managed to get robbed in a most extraordinary way. At +one o'clock in the morning, Havard declares that the thief can be none +other than one of the guests, and thereupon every person present has to +submit to being searched—an exhaustive search! Nothing comes of it. +Then Bertillon arrives on the scene, and it seems he has obtained very +distinct imprints of finger marks. If they are as distinct as all that, +the task of the police will be simplified; but, on the other hand, is it +likely the guilty person will be so simple as to respond to the summons +issued by the Public Prosecutor, a general summons issued to all +Thomery's guests to parade in Bertillon's office for the finger-mark +test?... Not he! Why the moment he heard of it he would make for the +train and pass the frontier!"</p> + +<p>When his cab arrived at the Palais, Fandor uttered a big sigh of +satisfaction:</p> + +<p>"There are a good many things I am not clear about: let us hope +Bertillon will give me some information."</p> + +<p>The entrance to the anthropometric department was under the discreet +observation of two detectives:</p> + +<p>"Oh," thought Fandor. "They think it probable there will be an immediate +arrest, do they? We are going to have some complications, I foresee, in +connection with the finger-mark ceremony!"</p> + +<p>He sent in his card and a few minutes after he found himself in the +presence of Monsieur Bertillon.</p> + +<p>"Well, what is it you want me to tell you?" asked this famous man of +science.</p> + +<p>"Why, dear master, everything that took place last night! Is it true +that you have summoned here all Thomery's guests?... Have you obtained +such perfect reprints that, in your hasty examination, you can be +certain of identifying them with those of the persons who will pass +through your office to undergo the test?"</p> + +<p>Bertillon smiled:</p> + +<p>"Oh, my dear fellow, you are of those who do not put much faith in the +results of my tests for police purposes! That, let me tell you, is +because you are not acquainted with our procedure. The impressions I +obtained are distinct—precise as can be; if an arrest is made before +long it will be made on sure grounds."</p> + +<p>Fandor bowed:</p> + +<p>"I accept your statement, dear master!... But, do be kind enough to tell +me what happened after my departure?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, nothing very extraordinary.... Of course you know about the +affair—how the Princess Sonia Danidoff was discovered?..."</p> + +<p>"What I know is that Thomery found one of his guests, Princess Sonia +Danidoff, in a dead faint in a small drawing-room; that Dr. Du Marvier +declared she had been rendered unconscious; that the theft of a pearl +necklace worn by the victim had been the motive of this criminal +attempt; that Monsieur Havard, called in at once, first made sure that +no one had left the house, and then had everyone on the premises +searched ... and that is really all I know about it!"</p> + +<p>"Well, Havard did not find anything!"</p> + +<p>"No one was caught with compromising jewels in their possession. The +last guest gone, the house searched from top to bottom, not a single +pearl had been found.... I arrived just when the investigations had +terminated: at the moment when they were about to take the Princess +home. She had regained consciousness by this time and declared she knew +nothing except that she had fallen asleep after using a perfume sprayer. +This has been seized and chloroform has been found in it; but no one +seems to know who filled the sprayer with this stupefying perfume."</p> + +<p>"Did Monsieur Havard send for you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, he telephoned. You know, of course, that I am always asked to +intervene now in any ticklish affair!... Well Dr. Du Marvier, an expert +in his way, noticed that the Princess had been half strangled by the +thief in his haste to secure the pearl collar, and he wished me to +search for finger prints on the nape of the victim's neck—to discover +the assassin's signature in fact."</p> + +<p>"And there were some?"</p> + +<p>"A quantity. The Princess had been slightly wounded in the nape of the +neck ... blood had been pressed on to the skin of her neck, and it was +easy to take a cast of one of the fingers."</p> + +<p>"Was that sufficient?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and no; such an impression is something; but there is better than +that! The thief must have given the neck a violent squeeze with his +hands, consequently there is a complete impression of the hand ... that +I had to get...."</p> + +<p>Fandor instinctively put his hand to his neck as if he were squeezing +it. He said:</p> + +<p>"Are such impressions imperceptible?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; to the eye, but not to the photographing apparatus. It is +thoroughly established that the pattern formed by the innumerable lines +which furrow the fleshy part of our fingers is as peculiarly +characteristic of each individual as the form of his nose, of his ears, +or the colour of his eyes. The curves or rings, the various forms taken +by these lines already exist in the newly born and never change to the +day of his death. Even in case of a burn, if the skin grows again, the +ridges reappear exactly as they were before the accident. Look you, one +can obtain by this method—this test—such results as you would never +dream of. For example, by taking these imprints I obtained in the early +hours of to-day, as a basis, I can tell you, with almost absolute +accuracy, the height of the individual...."</p> + +<p>"This is marvellous!" cried Fandor. "The service your department renders +then is to abolish legal blunders?"</p> + +<p>"That is so. Every individual identified, is identified plainly, +irrefutably. Unfortunately, we cannot always obtain perfect imprints on +the spot where the crime is committed."</p> + +<p>"But this night?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, as I told you, the impressions were most satisfactory. I have the +thief's hand—the whole of it! I will even go so far as to declare that +the fellow who committed the crime has already been through my hands. I +recognise that hand! You shall see, whether or no I have made a +mistake!"...</p> + +<p>Bertillon pressed a bell, and asked the official who answered it:</p> + +<p>"Have you identified the imprints I sent you just now?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir. This man has already been measured here. It is register +9200."</p> + +<p>Bertillon turned to Fandor:</p> + +<p>"You see, I was not mistaken! All I have to do is to turn up my +alphabetical index, and for this very month, for the number is a recent +one, and I shall know the name of the old offender—he must be one, as +he is catalogued here—who has committed this assault."</p> + +<p>Whilst speaking, Monsieur Bertillon was turning over the leaves of an +enormous register:</p> + +<p>"Ah! Here is the 9200 series!..."</p> + +<p>Suddenly the book slipped from his hands, and he exclaimed: "The guilty +man is ..."</p> + +<p>"Is who?" questioned Fandor.</p> + +<p>"Is Jacques Dollon!... The hand that has robbed Princess Sonia Danidoff +is the hand of Jacques Dollon!"</p> + +<p>"But it is impossible!"</p> + +<p>Bertillon shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"Impossible?... Why, since the proof of it is there?"</p> + +<p>"But Jacques Dollon is dead!"</p> + +<p>"He was the thief of yesterday's crime."</p> + +<p>"You are making a mistake!..."</p> + +<p>"I am not making a mistake!... Jacques Dollon is the thief I tell you!"</p> + +<p>This was too much for Jérôme Fandor: he could not contain himself.</p> + +<p>"And I tell you, Monsieur Bertillon, that I know that I am +certain—positively certain, that Jacques Dollon is dead!... Now, +then!..."</p> + +<p>The man of science shook his head.</p> + +<p>"I, in my turn, say, you are making a mistake! Look at the two imprints +I have here! That of Jacques Dollon taken a few days ago, and this made +from the impressions obtained this very night, or, to be exact, in the +early morning hours of to-day! They are identical—one can be exactly +superposed on the other!..."</p> + +<p>"Coincidence!"</p> + +<p>"There is no such coincidence possible—besides"—Monsieur Bertillon +took up a powerful magnifying glass—"look at these characteristic +details!... Just look at the lines of the thumb, all out of shape!... +The presentment of the thumb itself is not normal either; it denotes +habitual movement in a certain direction: it is the thumb of a painter, +of a potter!... Oh, it is all as clear as daylight—believe me—there is +no doubt about it! Jacques Dollon is the guilty person!"</p> + +<p>"But," repeated Fandor obstinately: "Jacques Dollon is dead! I swear to +you he is dead!..."</p> + +<p>This assertion made no impression on the man of science.</p> + +<p>"As to whether Jacques Dollon is alive or dead—that is for the police +to decide!... For my part, I can declare that the man who committed the +theft yesterday evening is the identical man who passed through my hands +some days ago—and that man is certainly Jacques Dollon!"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Jérôme Fandor left Monsieur Bertillon. The young journalist was +perplexed.... If the finger-prints on the neck of Princess Sonia +Danidoff were, beyond dispute, those of Jacques Dollon—then the mystery +surrounding this affair, and not this affair only, but a series of +incidents, so far from being cleared up, was more impenetrable than +ever!</p> + +<p>But Fandor was obsessed by the idea of Fantômas, of Fantômas in the +depths of mystery, presiding over this series of dramatic occurrences.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Fantômas is certainly in this!" he cried.... But Dollon has left +traces of himself here—has, as it were, put his signature, his +identification mark to this crime!... But Dollon is not Fantômas ... +besides Dollon is dead!... I have proofs of it—yes, he is dead!... Well +then?...</p> + +<p>What to make of it?</p> + +<p>Fandor could not make anything of it!</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="X" id="X"></a>X</h2> + +<h3>IDENTITY OF A NAVVY</h3> + + +<p>"The Barbey-Nanteuil bank is certainly gorgeous!" thought Jérôme Fandor +as he traversed the hall on the ground floor, where the massive mahogany +furniture, the thick carpets, the deep, comfortable chairs, the sober +elegance of the window curtains breathed an atmosphere of luxury and +good taste. "And decidedly banking is the best of businesses!" added our +young journalist.</p> + +<p>An attendant advanced to meet him.</p> + +<p>"What do you want, monsieur?"</p> + +<p>"Will you take in my card to Monsieur Nanteuil? I should be glad to have +a few minutes' talk with him."</p> + +<p>The attendant bowed.</p> + +<p>"On a personal matter, monsieur?"</p> + +<p>"A personal matter?... Yes."</p> + +<p>Jérôme Fandor wanted to interview the Barbey-Nanteuils on the subject of +the recent occurrences, which had roused Paris opinion to the highest +degree—mysterious occurrences on which no light seemed to have been +thrown so far.... Not only were the Barbey-Nanteuils the bankers of the +Baroness de Vibray, but they had been present at Thomery's ball, when +the attack on Princess Sonia Danidoff had taken place.... Would they +allow themselves to be interviewed? Fandor decided that they certainly +would, for they were business men, and was he not going to give them a +free advertisement?</p> + +<p>The attendant—a stately individual—returned.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur Nanteuil is sorry he cannot see you, he is taking the chair +at an important committee meeting; but Monsieur Barbey will see you for +a few minutes, that is to say, if he will do instead of Monsieur +Nanteuil."</p> + +<p>"In that case, I will see Monsieur Barbey," said Fandor, rising.</p> + +<p>Following the attendant, Fandor traversed the whole length of the bank, +and passing the half-open door of Monsieur Nanteuil's office—the name +on the door told him this—he noticed that it was empty.</p> + +<p>Monsieur Barbey received him coldly and with a solemn bow. Fandor's +reply was a pleasant smile.</p> + +<p>"I know," said he, "that your time is precious, Monsieur Barbey, so I +will come straight to the object of my call.... You must be aware of the +profound impression caused by the double crimes recently committed on +the persons of Madame de Vibray and the Princess Sonia Danidoff?"</p> + +<p>"It is true, monsieur, that I have followed, in the papers, the account +of the investigations regarding them: but, in what way?..."</p> + +<p>"Does it concern you?" finished Fandor. "Good heavens, monsieur, is it +not a fact that the Baroness de Vibray was your client? And were you not +present at Monsieur Thomery's ball?"</p> + +<p>"That is so, monsieur; but if you are hoping that I can supply you with +further details than those already published, you will be disappointed. +I myself have learned a good deal about these crimes only from reading +your articles, monsieur."</p> + +<p>"Can you confirm the statement that Madame de Vibray was ruined?"</p> + +<p>"I do not think I am betraying a professional secret if I say that +Madame de Vibray had had very heavy losses quite recently."</p> + +<p>"And Princess Sonia Danidoff?"</p> + +<p>"I do not think she is one of our clients."</p> + +<p>"You do not think so?"</p> + +<p>"But, monsieur, you cannot suppose that we know all our clients? Our +business is a very extensive one, and neither Nanteuil, nor I, could +possibly know the names of all those who do business with us."</p> + +<p>"You know the name of Jacques Dollon?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. I knew young Dollon. He was introduced to me by Madame de Vibray, +who asked me to give him a helping hand, and I willingly did so. I can +only regret now that my confidence was so ill placed."</p> + +<p>"Do you believe him guilty then?... Not really?"</p> + +<p>"I certainly do!... So do all your readers, monsieur. Is that not so?"</p> + +<p>But, whilst Monsieur Barbey was regarding Fandor with some astonishment +because of his half-avowal, that he himself was not sure of Dollon's +guilt, the door was flung open with violence, and Monsieur Nanteuil, out +of breath, looking thoroughly upset, rushed into the room, followed by +five or six men unknown to Jérôme Fandor, and showing traces of fatigue +and emotion also.</p> + +<p>"Good Heavens! What is it?" cried Monsieur Barbey, rising to meet his +partner....</p> + +<p>"The matter is," cried Monsieur Nanteuil, "that an abominable robbery +has just been committed...."</p> + +<p>"Where?"</p> + +<p>"Rue du Quatre Septembre!..." Still panting, he began to give +details....</p> + +<p>Fandor did not wait to hear more. He rushed from the Barbey-Nanteuil +bank and made for the place de l'Opéra at top speed.</p> + +<p>In consequence of the extraordinary occurrence which Monsieur Nanteuil +had hastened to report to his partner, a considerable crowd had flocked +to the scene of the accident; but barriers had been quickly erected, and +the crowd, directed by the police, were able to circulate in orderly +fashion when Fandor arrived on the scene.</p> + +<p>The agile young journalist had made his way to the front row of the +curious, and was bent on entering the stone and wood yards of the works +forbidden to the public; the usual palisade no longer existed owing to +the landslip.</p> + +<p>Just as he was searching in his pocket for the precious identification +card, which the police grant to the reporters connected with the big +newspapers, Fandor was jostled by an individual coming out of the yards. +It was a navvy all covered with mortar, white dust, and mud; he was +without a hat and held his right hand pressed against his cheek; between +his fingers there filtered a few drops of blood.</p> + +<p>The glances of the man and the journalist met, and Fandor felt as though +someone had struck him a blow on the heart! The navvy had given him so +strange a look. Fandor thought he had read in his eyes a threat and an +invitation.</p> + +<p>Whilst our journalist hesitated, troubled by this sudden encounter, the +man moved off, forcing his way through the crowd. Then Fandor caught +sight of some of his colleagues, stumbling about amidst the ruins and +rubble in the stone-yard. This reassured him; if he followed the navvy, +and he had the strongest inclination to do so, he could telephone to +some reporter friend who would supply him with the necessary details for +his article on the accident. He had got some facts already: a sudden +collapse of stones and mortar had buried a hand-cart, in which were +large bars of gold belonging to the Barbey-Nanteuil bank. But the +precious vehicle had soon been rescued, and they were taking it to the +bank under escort.</p> + +<p>Satisfied as to this, Fandor followed with his eyes this strange navvy +who was going further and further away.</p> + +<p>Fandor had an intuition—a very strong feeling—that he must follow the +trail of this man and make him talk. It was of the utmost +importance—something told him this was so.</p> + +<p>The navvy was not simply going away, he had the air of a man in flight.</p> + +<p>Fandor, who was following now and keenly observant, noticed the +hesitating movements of the man—then there was an astonishing move on +the navvy's part: he hailed a taxi and got in. Fandor had the good luck +to find another taxi at once; jumping in, he said to the driver:</p> + +<p>"Follow the 4227 G.H. which is in front of you: don't let it outdistance +you ... you shall have a good tip!"</p> + +<p>The chauffeur, a young alert fellow, understood there was a chase in +question, and amused at the idea of pursuing a comrade through the +crowded streets of Paris, he set off. He adroitly cut through a file of +carriages and caught up taxi 4227 G.H. He then proceeded to follow +closely in its track.</p> + +<p>Fandor, keen as a bloodhound on the scent, kept watch over their +progress to an unknown destination.</p> + +<p>They rolled along the avenue de l'Opéra: they cut across the rue de +Rivoli. Then, when they were going at a good pace through the place du +Carrousel, Fandor felt much moved by memories of past times, those days +of great and wonderful adventures, when he would follow this very route +to keep some exciting appointment with his good friend, Juve. How +frequent those appointments used to be, when the famous detective was +alive and so actively at work—the work of unearthing criminals—those +pests of society! Off Fandor used to set when the longed for summons +came, and would meet Juve in his little flat on the left side of the +Seine. Ah, those were times, indeed!</p> + +<p>When a lad, Fandor had been practically adopted by the famous detective. +Young Jérôme Fandor had served a kind of apprenticeship with Juve, and +this had brought him into close touch with the ups and downs of a number +of crime dramas: he and Juve together had even been the voluntary, or +involuntary, heroes of some of them! Then the tragic disappearance of +Juve had occurred, when Fandor had escaped death by a kind of miracle!</p> + +<p>After that dreadful date, our journalist had found himself alone, +isolated, with not a soul to whom he cared to confide his perplexities, +his anxieties, his hopes! Fandor shuddered at the thought of this.</p> + +<p>The taxi had just crossed the bridge des Sainte Pères, had followed the +quay for a few minutes, then rounding the Fine Arts School they entered +the old and narrow rue Bonaparte....</p> + +<p>What was this? Of course, it could only be a coincidence ... but still +... rue Bonaparte—why that only brought the memory of Juve more vividly +to mind! For Juve had lived in this street; and now, a few yards further +on, they would pass before the modest dwelling where, for years, the +detective had made his home, keeping jealously hidden, from all and +sundry, this asylum, this secret retreat.</p> + +<p>Ah, what happy hours, what jolly times, what tragic moments, too, had +Fandor not passed in that little flat on the fourth floor! How they had +chatted away in the detective's comfortable study! Then Fandor, full of +spirit, would come and go from room to room, unable to sit still, all +fire and activity; and Juve would remain in one place, calm, full of +thought, sometimes sunk in a reverie, often silent for hours at a time, +his eyes obstinately fixed on the ceiling, smoking methodically, +mechanically even, his eternal cigarette. Oh, those good, good days gone +for ever!</p> + +<p>After the disastrous disappearance of Juve, Fandor had not gone near the +rue Bonaparte for six months. It was all too painful, to find again the +familiar rooms and no Juve! It was too painful.</p> + +<p>However, one fine day, he determined to go and see what had happened to +his friend's old home.... Alas, in Paris, the lapse of half a year +suffices to alter the most familiar scene! In rue Bonaparte, the former +house porters had left; their place had been taken by a stout, sulky +woman who gave evasive replies to Fandor's questions. He extracted from +her the information that the tenant of the fourth floor flat had died, +that his furniture had been cleared out very soon after his death, and +the flat had been let to an insurance inspector....</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Fandor was roused from this retrospect: he grew pale, his heart seemed +to stop its beating: the taxi he was pursuing had slowed down—had drawn +up beside the pavement—had stopped in front of Juve's old home!</p> + +<p>Fandor saw the navvy descend from the taxi, pay his fare, and enter the +house, still keeping his right hand pressed to his cheek. Without a +moment's reflection, Fandor leapt from his taxi, flung a five-franc +piece to his driver, and without waiting for the change he rushed into +the house, whose passages and stairs were so familiar.</p> + +<p>The navvy was swiftly mounting the stairs in front of our excited young +journalist, who was close on his quarry's heels: the two men were +panting as they went up that dark staircase.</p> + +<p>At the fourth floor, Fandor was nearly overcome by emotion, for the man +entered Juve's old flat as if he had a right to do so.</p> + +<p>He was on the point of shutting the door in the face of his pursuer, but +Fandor had foreseen this. He slipped through with a forceful push and +caught the navvy by his jacket.</p> + +<p>Quick as lightning the navvy turned, and the two men stood face to +face.... The result was startling!</p> + +<p>Speechless they stared at each other for what seemed an interminable +moment; then, with a strangled cry, Fandor fell into the man's arms, and +was crushed in a strong embrace. Two cries escaped from their lips at +the same moment:</p> + +<p>"Juve!"</p> + +<p>"Fandor!"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>When he came to himself again, Fandor found he was lying in one of the +comfortable leather arm-chairs in Juve's study. His temples and the +lobes of his ears were being bathed with some refreshing liquid: the +commingled scent of ether and eau-de-Cologne was in the air.</p> + +<p>When he opened his eyes, it was with difficulty that he could credit the +sight that met them!</p> + +<p>Juve, his dear Juve, was bending over him, gazing at him tenderly, +watching his return to consciousness with some anxiety.</p> + +<p>Fandor vainly strove to rise: he felt dazed.</p> + +<p>"Fandor!" murmured Juve, in a voice trembling with emotion. "Fandor, my +little Fandor. My lad, my own dear lad!"</p> + +<p>Oh, yes, this was Juve, his own Juve, whom Fandor saw before him!... He +had aged a little, this dear Juve of his—had gone slightly grey at the +temples: there were some fresh lines on his forehead, at the corners of +his mouth, too; but it was the Juve of old times, for all that!... Juve, +alert, souple, robust, Juve in his full vigour, in the prime of life! +Oh, a living, breathing, fatherly Juve: his respected master and most +intimate friend—restored to him, after mourning the irreparable loss of +him and his incomprehensible disappearance!</p> + +<p>While Fandor slowly came to himself, Juve had lessened the disordered +state of his appearance; he had taken off his workman's clothes, and +also the red beard which he had worn, when he ran up against the +journalist in the place de l'Opéra.</p> + +<p>As soon as Fandor was himself again, not only did he feel intense joy, a +quite wild joy, but he also knew the good of a keen curiosity. Now he +would know why the detective had felt obliged to disappear, officially +at any rate, from Paris life for so long a period.</p> + +<p>Protestations of faithful attachment, or unalterable affection poured +from Fandor's excited lips, intermingled with questions: he wanted to +know everything at once.</p> + +<p>Juve smiled in silence, and gazed most affectionately at his dear lad.</p> + +<p>At last he said:</p> + +<p>"I am not going to ask you for your news, Fandor, for I have seen you +repeatedly, and I know you are quite all right.... Why, I do believe you +have put on flesh a little!"</p> + +<p>Juve was smiling that enigmatic smile of his.</p> + +<p>Fandor grew impatient, on fire with curiosity. Ah, this was indeed the +Juve of bygone days, imperturbable, ironical, rather exasperating also!</p> + +<p>However, Juve took pity on Fandor, who was still under the influence of +the shock he had received.</p> + +<p>"Well, now, dear lad, did you recognise me, a while ago?"</p> + +<p>Fandor pulled himself together.</p> + +<p>"To tell you the truth, Juve, I did not ... but, when our glances met, I +had an intuition, a kind of interior revelation of what I had to do, and +without any beating about the bush—I knew I had to follow you, follow +you wherever you went."</p> + +<p>Juve nodded his approval.</p> + +<p>"Very good, dear fellow; your reply gives me infinite pleasure, and on +two counts: in the first place, I perceive that your remarkable instinct +for getting on to the right scent, strengthened by my teaching, has +improved immensely since we parted; and, in the second place, I am +delighted to know that I made my head and face so unrecognisable that +even my old familiar friend, Fandor, did not know me when we were +brought face to face!"</p> + +<p>"Why this disguise, Juve?" demanded Fandor, his countenance alight with +curiosity. "How was it I came across you at the very spot where the +Barbey-Nanteuil load of gold had been submerged, for the moment, under +bricks and mortar? And, with regard to that, Juve, how comes it ..."</p> + +<p>Juve cut Fandor short.</p> + +<p>"Gently! Fandor! Gently! You are putting the cart before the horse, old +fellow; and if we continue to talk by fits and starts, never shall we +come to the end of all we have to say to each other, and must say. Are +you aware, Fandor, that we have been drawn into a succession of +incomprehensible occurrences—a mysterious network of them?... But I +have good hopes that now we shall be able to work together again; and I +like to think that if we follow the different trails we have each +started on, we shall end up by..."</p> + +<p>It was Fandor's turn to interrupt:</p> + +<p>"Hang it all, Juve! I partly understand you, of course; but there's a +lot I don't know yet.... What are you after, dear Juve? Are you, as I +am, on the track of Jacques Dollon?"</p> + +<p>There was a pause, then Juve said:</p> + +<p>"I shall reserve the details for our leisure. What matters now is, that +I should make clear to you the principal lines my existence has followed +during the past three years or so. A few minutes will suffice to put you +in possession of the main facts. Now, listen."</p> + +<p>The narrative went back to the time when Juve, aided by Fandor, was +close on the heels of their mortal enemy, the mysterious and elusive +Fantômas. The detective and the journalist had succeeded in cooping up +the formidable bandit in a house at Neuilly, belonging to a great +English lady, known under the name of Lady Beltham. This Englishwoman +was the mistress and accomplice of the notorious Fantômas.<a name="FNanchor_9_9" id="FNanchor_9_9"></a><a href="#Footnote_9_9" class="fnanchor">[9]</a> But at the +precise moment when Juve was about to arrest him, a frightful explosion +occurred, and the building, blown up by dynamite, collapsed in ruins, +burying the two friends and some fifteen policemen and detectives.</p> + +<p>Rescuers were on the spot in a very short time, and uninterruptedly, for +forty-eight hours, they searched among the ruins for the victims of the +disaster, dead or alive.</p> + +<p>By a miraculous piece of good fortune, Fandor had been but slightly +hurt, and at the end of a few days he was as well as ever. But the poor +fellow had lost his best friend—Juve!</p> + +<p>The search for Juve had been a useless one. Several corpses could not be +identified owing to the injuries they had sustained; and, as it seemed +incredible that the detective could have escaped, they had concluded +that one of the unrecognisable bodies must be his.</p> + +<p>Juve, however, was not one of the dead!</p> + +<p>Saved in as miraculous a fashion as Fandor had been, less injured even, +a few seconds after the frightful crash, he had been able to rise and +make his escape. The distracted detective had raced away from the scene +of disaster in search of Fandor, and also in pursuit of Fantômas, for he +believed that both had made their escape.</p> + +<p>After wandering about for some hours, he had returned to mingle with the +crowd of rescuers, and had learned that Fandor had been found, and was +not dangerously hurt: on the other hand, there were those present who +declared that he, Juve, was killed!</p> + +<p>This unexpected announcement gave him an idea: for an indefinite period +he would accept this version! For, more than ever set upon catching his +enemy, the detective said to himself, that if Fantômas could feel +certain that Juve no longer existed, the pretended dead would have a far +better chance of catching the living bandit!</p> + +<p>Thereupon, Juve had submitted his project to his chief, Monsieur Havard; +and the head of the police secret service had consented to ignore Juve's +presence among the living.</p> + +<p>Juve knew that Lady Beltham had escaped to England.</p> + +<p>Supposing that Fantômas would rejoin her without delay, the detective +left Paris, crossed the Channel. He then went to America. For scarcely +had he arrived in London when he learned that the bandits had gone off +to the United States.</p> + +<p>Juve travelled from place to place for some months. It was a vain quest: +Fantômas had vanished, leaving not a trace behind, and the disgusted +detective, now convinced that he had followed a false trail, returned to +France.</p> + +<p>He determined to set himself to study anew the prison world; he was all +the more interested in it because, before his supposed death, Juve had +effected the arrest of several members of a band of which Fantômas was +the leader. Among these were the Cooper, the Beard, and old Mother +Toulouche.</p> + +<p>Then, at the prison connected with the asylum, Juve had come across a +warder, who, some years previous to this, had been the warder in charge +of a man condemned to death, one Gurn, who had not been guillotined +because a substituted person had been executed in his stead. Juve was +convinced that the condemned criminal was none other than Fantômas. Juve +strongly suspected that this warder, Nibet by name, knew a great deal +about this old affair. But soon Nibet passed to the Dépôt. The +accomplices of Fantômas, having served the time of their respective +sentences, some at Melun, others at Clermont, all this nice collection +of criminals would meet once more on the pavements of Paris. Juve, +therefore, had imperious reasons for mingling with this charming +crowd!...</p> + +<p>Fandor had followed Juve's rapid narrative with the most intense +interest.</p> + +<p>"And then, Juve, what then?" insisted Fandor.</p> + +<p>"And then," said the detective, "to make an end of it—for we must not +be forever going over the past adventures—let me tell you, that after +many and diverse happenings, a band of smugglers and false coiners, +among whom are to be found individuals already known to you, notably the +Beard, the Cooper, and also that wretch of a Mother Toulouche, one fine +day made the acquaintance of a poor sort of creature, simple-minded, and +anything but sharp-witted—an individual who goes by the name of +Cranajour!"</p> + +<p>"Cranajour?" queried Fandor, "I don't in the least understand."</p> + +<p>"Yes, Cranajour," repeated Juve. "Here is how it came about. You +remember when Fantômas got an unfortunate actor named Valgrand executed +in his stead? Well, our mysterious Fantômas, the better to mislead and +bamboozle those who might suspect this atrocious jugglery, our bandit of +genius—for Fantômas has genius—took the personality of Valgrand for +several hours, and dared to go to the theatre where the real Valgrand +was playing. However, as Fantômas was not capable of playing the part to +a finish, he conceived the idea of making those about Valgrand believe +that he had been suddenly afflicted with loss of memory, and from that +moment could not remember anything whatever: Fantômas, the false +Valgrand, could thus pass for the true Valgrand, and be taken as such by +the true Valgrand's intimates!... I humbly confess, Fandor, that I +copied Fantômas by creating Cranajour...."</p> + +<p>Juve, then rapidly explained to the journalist the origin of this +nickname, and also told him how the bandits treated him as one of +themselves; how, as soon as they were convinced that he could not +remember anything he had seen or heard for two hours together, they +talked freely before him of their plans and doings!</p> + +<p>The detective went on:</p> + +<p>"I must add, my dear Fandor, that no very sensational revelations have +come to me, so far, through my intimacy with this set of criminals. It +seemed to me I was in the midst of common thieves, who smuggled and +circulated false coin; but one thing did puzzle me—puzzles me still: +these folk succeed in selling a considerable number of pounds sterling, +false coin, of course, and that without my being able to discover, so +far, where they sell them—who makes their market. They also sell lace +smuggled from Belgium; that, however, interests me but little, and I was +prepared to leave to the lower ranks of the service the duty of +clearing Paris of this common-place brood of criminals; already, indeed, +the regular police had arrested one of the smugglers, the Cooper, and +two of his subordinate confederates; I was about to turn my back on this +crew in order to give all my attention to a new trail which might put me +on the track of Fantômas once more, when the Dollon affair blazed forth; +and then suddenly, I meet again my Fandor, braver than ever, more +perspicacious also, adroitly taking the affair in hand, bravely +thrusting himself into the breach!</p> + +<p>"Is there any connection between the Dollon affair and my band of +smugglers?"</p> + +<p>"You will appreciate the importance of this question and the reply to it +in a minute, my Fandor, when you learn that the Dépôt warder, Nibet, is +one of the most valuable confederates of the coiners, of Mother +Toulouche, of that hooligan, the Beard...."</p> + +<p>"Is it possible!" cried Fandor. "Ah, Juve, all this is so strange that I +believe you are really on Fantômas' track, once more!"</p> + +<p>Juve shook his head; then he continued:</p> + +<p>"I have still a great deal to tell you, but I must pause a moment to +say, that I ought to apologise to you for a fairly brutal act I +committed on your behalf—in your best interests, as you will see...."</p> + +<p>And to Fandor, who opened his eyes in astonishment, the detective +related, in humorous fashion, the history of the famous kick he had +administered—a kick wherewith Juve had removed his friend from the +immediate and certain danger of assassination, at the hand and by the +knife of Nibet.</p> + +<p>Fandor could not get over it! He grasped Juve's hands and pressed them +warmly.</p> + +<p>"My friend! My good friend!" murmured he, moved almost to tears. "If I +had had the least suspicion!..."</p> + +<p>Juve interrupted him.</p> + +<p>"There are many more things, Fandor, you never suspected, things you +ought to know.... And what is more, you seem to me to be neglecting your +work badly at this very moment, Mr. Reporter! It is already one o'clock +in the afternoon; and if they are counting on you to supply them with +information about this affair of the place de l'Opéra...."</p> + +<p>Fandor leapt to his feet.</p> + +<p>"It's true!" he cried. "I had quite forgotten it!... But it is of no +importance by the side of ..."</p> + +<p>Juve interrupted.</p> + +<p>"<i>The affair is serious, Fandor, attention!...</i> Do you remember? It is +the formula I employed on two or three occasions, when warning you, +after the assassination of Jacques Dollon, after the attack on Sonia +Danidoff at Thomery's house...."</p> + +<p>"What! It was you, Juve!" cried Fandor.</p> + +<p>"Yes, it was ... but let us pass on! Time presses. I am going to +disappear anew; but you now know where to find me, in future, and under +what form, should occasion require it. Cranajour I am; Cranajour I +remain—for the time being, at any rate. As to you, Fandor, be off with +you at once ... and go and hatch out that article of yours!"</p> + +<p>Our journalist rose mechanically; but Juve, thinking better of it, +caught him by the arm, drew him back and pointed out the writing-table.</p> + +<p>"Come to think of it, you know nothing about the affair, and I do: there +are things which should be said, above all things, to be hinted at ... +do you wish me to give you information?... Sit yourself there, my lad: I +am going to dictate your article to you!"</p> + +<p>Our journalist, understanding the gravity of the situation, and well +knowing that if Juve took this course, he had important reasons for so +doing, did not say one word. He simply brought out his fountain pen, +screwed it ready for action, and, with his hand resting on a pile of +white paper, he waited.</p> + +<p>Juve dictated.</p> + +<p>"First of all, put this as your title:</p> + +<h4><i>An Audacious Theft</i></h4> + +<p>"That does not tell the reader anything, but it awakens his +curiosity.... Let us continue!</p> + +<p>"Write."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XI" id="XI"></a>XI</h2> + +<h3>AN AUDACIOUS THEFT</h3> + + +<p>Two hours after Juve had dictated his article to Fandor, our journalist +was reading it, in proof, in the offices of <i>La Capitale</i>. His article +ran thus:</p> + +<p>"By a fortunate coincidence we found ourselves, this very morning, in +the directorial office of the Barbey-Nanteuil bank, chatting with +Monsieur Barbey himself, when Monsieur Nanteuil arrived, breathless, and +announced to his partner that a sensational robbery had just been +committed in the rue du Quatre Septembre, a robbery involving a sum of +twenty millions representing a clearance recently effected by the +Federated Republic.</p> + +<p>"It seems that at ten o'clock this morning, Monsieur Nanteuil +accompanied the little hand-cart used for transferring the bullion and +paper money to the station, from whence it was to be despatched. +According to custom, six of the bank clerks and three plain clothes men +went with Monsieur Nanteuil. But, at the very moment when the hand-cart +passed out of the place de l'Opéra and turned the corner of the rue du +Quatre Septembre, that is to say, at the precise moment when it was +passing the palisade, surrounding the works on the Auteuil-Opéra +Metropolitan line, a formidable explosion was heard, and the hand-cart, +as well as the men who were drawing it, and escorting it, including +Monsieur Nanteuil himself, disappeared in a deep excavation caused by +the explosion, whilst a water pipe which had burst at the same moment, +poured out torrents of water, flooding the surrounding pavement and +roadway.</p> + +<p>"It was then about eleven o'clock in the morning, and the rue du Quatre +Septembre presented a very animated appearance. At the noise of the +explosion, the passers-by were glued to the spot, dazed, stupefied. Then +exclamations broke out on all sides.</p> + +<p>"'An accident?'</p> + +<p>"'A bomb?'</p> + +<p>"The explosion had created a veritable chasm. The first moment of +stupefaction past, policeman 326 quickly organised the rescuers, and +sent notice to the nearest police station. Some minutes later, the +firemen arrived on the scene armed with ladders and ropes. Meanwhile, +the crowd of curious onlookers was increasing with amazing rapidity.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur Nanteuil was the first to be drawn up from the pit; by a +miracle he had escaped injury; unfortunately, the clerks of the +Barbey-Nanteuil bank had not got off so well; bruises, contusions, cases +of severe shock, more or less serious, had to be attended to by +neighbouring chemists.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur Nanteuil, reassured as to the fate of his clerks, turned his +attention to the hand-cart and its millions of bullion, and the police +in charge were given to understand that it must be drawn up without +delay.</p> + +<p>"Into the pit the firemen once more descended; at first they were +surprised not to find the hand-cart and its millions! No doubt, it had +been covered by the mass of fallen bricks and mortar! But fireman Le +Goffic, who had advanced some yards along the railway line, caught sight +of it. The cart was lying upside down; but, except for a few scratches, +it was found to be unbroken.</p> + +<p>"It was immediately hauled up to the roadway. Monsieur Nanteuil at once +ascertained that the seals were intact. He then gave orders that it was +to be taken back to the Barbey-Nanteuil bank without delay. As the +train, which was to have borne away the bullion, had left the station +hours ago, Monsieur Nanteuil decided to break the seals, and place the +bullion in one of the bank's safes for the night.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur Nanteuil's stupefaction can be imagined when, having unsealed +and opened the hand-cart, he realised that the sacks of gold had been +replaced by sacks of lead!</p> + +<p>"It was at this moment that Monsieur Barbey was informed of the fact by +his half-frantic partner. We were witnesses of this dramatic scene.</p> + +<p>"Every second was of value: instant action was the thing! Police +headquarters was warned at once; and, but a few minutes had elapsed, +when Monsieur Havard arrived in a taxicab to take charge of the +investigations.</p> + +<p>"Thanks to the courtesy of Monsieur Havard, we were allowed to accompany +him to the stone-yards of the Metropolitan: the police were convinced +that it was hereabouts that the robbery had been accomplished. We +reached the spot about an hour after the explosion. The first +investigations produced no result; but Monsieur Havard pursued his +solitary search up one of the sidings, and had his reward. His +exclamation was heard, and we hastened to the spot.... He had just found +a second hand-cart, in all points similar to that he had recently +examined in the courtyard of the Barbey-Nanteuil bank!</p> + +<p>"Monsieur Havard at once realised that he had before his eyes the +original hand-cart, and that the hand-cart he had seen in the bank +courtyard was a clever substitute! It need scarcely be said that there +is no trace of the stolen millions to be found in the original +hand-cart, cast away in a siding of the Metropolitan....</p> + +<p>"Our readers know something of the appearance presented by these lines, +in course of construction on the Metropolitan railway. We have +repeatedly published in <i>La Capitale</i> details regarding the way in which +the engineers and workmen supervise and execute the cutting of the +passageway on the underground. The operations in the place de l'Opéra +are on an enormous scale, for there is a junction here, and the soil is +more undermined than elsewhere on the railway.</p> + +<p>"At the precise spot where the explosion occurred, there are four +galleries in course of construction: one is the future Auteuil-Opéra +line, the others either lead to existing lines, or are galleries made +for the convenience of the workmen. Hand-cart number one, that is to +say, the substituted hand-cart filled with sacks of lead, was found in +the passageway of the Auteuil-Opéra line, which is perfectly accessible, +and would naturally be visited by the rescuers.</p> + +<p>"The original hand-cart was hidden away in one of the lateral galleries, +which are small and narrow, and not likely to be visited and examined, +except as a last resource. It is, therefore, clear that the affair has +been carefully arranged: a premeditated robbery. The presence of the two +hand-carts would establish this—the hand-carts used by the bank for the +transport of bullion and other forms of money are of a particular +make—unique, in fact. Their respective positions show that the robbers +had carefully prepared their drama, and it was skilfully arranged.</p> + +<p>"Thanks to Monsieur Havard's kindness, we were permitted to approach the +original hand-cart. It was in a lamentable condition: the body of it was +nearly smashed to pieces! Of course, no traces of the seals were to be +found. The only remark we see fit to make in this connection is, that +Monsieur Nanteuil, his clerks, and those who witnessed the accident, +must have been greatly excited and upset, otherwise they would naturally +have been much astonished at finding the substituted hand-cart +practically uninjured after an accident of so crushing a nature.</p> + +<p>"We have carefully examined the soil round the original hand-cart, in +the hope of finding some clear footprints of the thieves, or their +accomplices; but it was impossible to draw any conclusion from this +examination—the footmarks are intermingled, superimposed, +undistinguishable. It must be admitted the soil of the Metropolitan, +hereabouts, has been very much trampled over and beaten down so that it +is difficult to believe that researches, with the object of discovering +the robbers' footmarks, are likely to have any clear result.</p> + +<p>"At the moment these lines have been written, the investigation in the +Metropolitan passageways still continues, and will, in all probability, +be continued late into the night. So far, the police admit that results +are meagre. Monsieur Havard considers it certain that the deed is a +premeditated one, carefully prepared, and that, consequently, the +explosion which caused the catastrophe was a deliberate act of violence. +On the other hand, Monsieur Nanteuil declares that outside the parties +interested, that is to say, the Barbey-Nanteuil bank and the Comptoir +d'Escomptes, who were to receive the bullion, not a soul could know of +the transfer on that particular morning. But the staffs of the bank and +of the Comptoir National d'Escomptes are absolutely trustworthy: their +honour has never been questioned.</p> + +<p>"It is evident that such a daring and desperate deed, carried through so +successfully in the galleries of the Metropolitan, in the sight of all +Paris, at eleven o'clock in the morning, could only be the work of a +band of criminals, numerous and perfectly organised.</p> + +<p>"'Are we returning to the days of—Fantômas?'</p> + +<p>"Let us add, that owing to the number of individuals probably involved, +and the daring nature of the crime, Monsieur Havard considers that it +will be extremely difficult for the guilty persons to escape from the +police."</p> + +<p>Jérôme Fandor had just finished correcting this sensational article, +when slips from the Havas Agency arrived at <i>La Capitale</i>.</p> + +<p>Our journalist cast his eyes over them, thinking he might find some +piece of news which had come to hand at the last minute. As he read he +grew pale. He struck his writing-table a violent blow with his fist.</p> + +<p>"For all that, I am not mad!" he cried.</p> + +<p>And, holding his head between his hands, spelling out each word, he +reread the following telegram from the Havas Agency:</p> + + +<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Affair of the rue du Quatre Septembre</i></p> + +<p>"<i>At the last moment of going to press, a bloody imprint has been +discovered on hand-cart number 2. Monsieur Bertillon immediately +identified this imprint: it was made by the hand of Jacques Dollon, +the criminal who is already wanted by the police for the murder of +the Baroness de Vibray, and the robbery committed on the Princess +Sonia Danidoff.</i>"</p></div> + +<p>"But I am not mad!" cried Fandor, when he had read these lines. "I +declare I am not mad! By all that's holy, Jacques Dollon is dead!... +Fifty persons have seen him dead! But, for all that, Bertillon cannot be +mistaken!"</p> + +<p>After a minute or two, Fandor took up his pen again, and added a note to +his article, entitled:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Sensational development. The police say: "It is the late Jacques +Dollon who has stolen the millions!"</i></p></div> + +<p>This note showed clearly that Jérôme Fandor did not believe that Jacques +Dollon could possibly be involved in this affair, or in either of the +other crimes in connection with which his name had been mentioned.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XII" id="XII"></a>XII</h2> + +<h3>INVESTIGATIONS</h3> + + +<p>A man jumped quickly out of the Auteuil-Madeleine tram.</p> + +<p>It would have been difficult to guess his age, or see his face. He wore +a large soft hat—a Brazilian sombrero—whose edges he had turned down. +The collar of his overcoat was turned up, so that the lower part of his +face was so far buried in it that his features were almost hidden. Then, +during the entire journey, seated at the end of the tramcar he had kept +his back turned on the other passenger: he seemed to be absorbed in +watching the movements of the driver. At the end of the rue Mozart, +where the rues La Fontaine, Poussin, des Perchamps meet, he had quitted +the tram with real satisfaction.</p> + +<p>Then, in the silence of the evening, the clock of Auteuil church had +slowly struck eight silvery strokes.</p> + +<p>The listening man murmured:</p> + +<p>"Oh, there's no hurry after all. I've a two good hours' wait in front of +me!"</p> + +<p>Leaving the frequented ways, he plunged into the little by-streets, +newly made and not yet named, which join the end of the rue Mozart with +the boulevard Montmorency. He walked fast, at the same time taking his +bearings.</p> + +<p>"Rue Raffet?... If I don't deceive myself, it lies in this direction!"</p> + +<p>He reached the hilly and lonely road bearing that name, which, on both +sides of its entire length, is bordered by attractive private +residences.</p> + +<p>Swiftly, silently, stealthily, this individual approached one of these +houses. He glanced through the garden railing, scrutinising the windows +which were lighted up.</p> + +<p>"Good! Good! Decidedly good!" he said, in a low tone of satisfaction.... +"But there's two hours to wait ... they are still in the dining-room, if +I am to go by the lighted windows."</p> + +<p>The watcher now inspected the rue Raffet. The house which interested him +so much, was situated just where the rue du Docteur Blanche opens into +the street at right angles. Auteuil is certainly not a frequented part, +but, as a rule, the rue Raffet is generally more lonely than any of the +streets in Auteuil: no carriages, no pedestrians.</p> + +<p>From an early hour in the evening, that hilly road was, more often than +not, quite deserted, so was the rue du Docteur Blanche, still surrounded +by waste land, and more especially at the rue Raffet end.</p> + +<p>A glance or two sufficed to show the man the lie of the land. He noted +the feeble glimmer of the street lamps; he made certain that not one of +the neighbouring houses could perceive his actions, mark his movements. +He repeated in a theatrical tone of voice with a note of amusement in +it.</p> + +<p>"Not a soul! Not a solitary soul! Well, it is no joke to wait here; but, +after all, it is a quiet spot, and I can count on not being disturbed in +the job I have in hand to-night...."</p> + +<p>This individual traversed the rue Raffet, gained the rue du Docteur +Blanche, and, wrapping himself up in his voluminous black cloak, +ensconced himself in a break in the palisades bordering the pavement. He +stood there motionless; anyone might have passed within a few yards of +him without suspecting his presence, so still was he, so imperceptibly +did his dark figure blend with the blackness of the night.</p> + +<p>He started slightly. The church clock struck nine, its notes sounding +silvery clear through the tranquil night ... in the distance some +convent clock chimed an evening prayer, then a deeper silence fell on +the darkness of night....</p> + +<p>Suddenly, the front door of the house, which the stranger had watched +with scrutinising intentness, was thrown wide open, showing a large, +luminous square in the darkness. Two women were speaking.</p> + +<p>"Are you going out, my darling?" asked the elder.</p> + +<p>"Don't be anxious, madame," replied a girlish voice. "There is no need +to wait for me. I am only going to the post...."</p> + +<p>"Why not give Jules your letter?"</p> + +<p>"No, I prefer to post it myself."</p> + +<p>"You would not like someone to go with you? There are not many people +about at this hour...."</p> + +<p>The same fresh, young voice replied:</p> + +<p>"Oh, I am not frightened ... besides it's only rue Raffet which is +deserted; as soon as I reach rue Mozart there will be nothing more to +fear!"</p> + +<p>The luminous square, drawn on the obscurity of the garden, disappeared.</p> + +<p>The mysterious stranger, who had not lost a word of this conversation, +heard the door of the vestibule close, then the gravel of the garden +crunch under the feet of the girl coming down the path. Very soon the +gate of the garden grated on its badly oiled hinges, and then the +elegant outline of a young girl was visible on the badly lighted +pavement. She was walking fast....</p> + +<p>The stranger remained stationary until the girl had gone some way; then +pressing against the wall, concealing his movements with practised +ability, he followed her at a discreet distance....</p> + +<p>"There can be no doubt about it," he murmured. "I recognised her voice +directly!... It's the very deuce!... It's going to complicate +matters!... A lover's meeting? Not likely!... She must be going to the +post, as she said.... She will return in about a quarter of an hour, and +then ... then!..."</p> + +<p>The girl was far from suspecting that she was being followed. She had +walked down rue Mozart, turned into rue Poussin, posted her letter, and +then walked quietly back to the house.</p> + +<p>The stranger had not followed her into the more frequented streets: he +awaited her return in a dark and deserted side street. When she came +into view again, he sighed a sigh of great satisfaction.</p> + +<p>"Ah, there is the dear child!... That's all right.... Now we shall have +some fun!... or, rather, I shall!"</p> + +<p>Anyone seeing his face, whilst making these significant exclamations, +would have been frightened by his sneering chuckle, his hideous grin.</p> + +<p>A few minutes later, the girl re-entered the little garden of the house +in the rue Raffet. A stout woman opened to her ring.</p> + +<p>"Ah, there you are, darling." There was relief in her tone.</p> + +<p>"Yes, here I am, safe and sound, madame!"</p> + +<p>"Nothing unpleasant—no one molested you, Elizabeth?"</p> + +<p>Elizabeth Dollon, for she it was, shook her head and smiled a smile both +sad and sweet.</p> + +<p>"Ah, no, madame!... I was sure you would be waiting for me—I am so +sorry!"</p> + +<p>"No, not at all!... Tell me, Elizabeth.... Jules has told me that you +would not be going out to-morrow. The poor fellow is so stupid that I +ask myself if he has not made a mistake?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Elizabeth. "It is quite true.... I do not think I shall go +out, either in the morning or the afternoon."</p> + +<p>"You expect a caller?"</p> + +<p>"It is possible someone may come to see me.... If by any chance I have +to go out for a few minutes, to get something or other, I must warn +Jules: he must make the visitor wait: I shall not go far in case..."</p> + +<p>"All right! That's settled then, darling. Now, good night, I am going to +my room."</p> + +<p>"Good evening, madame, and good night!"</p> + +<p>Leaving stout and kindly Madame Bourrat, owner of this private +boarding-house where Elizabeth Dollon had found a refuge, the poor girl, +still with a smile on her pale lips, made her way upstairs, entered her +bedroom, and carefully locked the door. She lit the lamp. Her face now +wore a tragic look: its expression was wild and desperate....</p> + +<p>"If only he would come!" she sighed.... "Ah, I am afraid! I am +afraid!... I am terribly afraid!"</p> + +<p>Elizabeth stood motionless—a frozen image of fear—all but her eyes: +they were casting terrified glances about her....</p> + +<p>And no wonder! Elizabeth was neatness personified, and her room was kept +with exquisite care—but now, everything was in the greatest +disorder.... The drawers of her chest of drawers were piled one on top +of the other in a corner of the room; their contents were thrown down in +heaps a little way off; books had been cast pell-mell on a sofa; a great +wicker trunk, wherein Elizabeth had packed numerous papers belonging to +her brother, was overturned on the floor, the lid open.</p> + +<p>Its contents were scattered near—a confused mass of documents and +crumpled papers.</p> + +<p>Elizabeth stared about her for a long minute, and again she cried:</p> + +<p>"Oh, if only he would come! What is the meaning of all this?..."</p> + +<p>She regained her self-control. Her usual expression of serene gravity +returned.</p> + +<p>"To go to sleep," she murmured. "That is the best thing—to-morrow will +come more quickly so—and, oh, I am so sleepy, so very, very tired!"</p> + +<p>Soon Elizabeth blew out her lamp—darkness reigned in her room.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>It was about half-past ten o'clock, and the light in Elizabeth Dollon's +room had been extinguished for some little while, when the front door +of the little house was opened again....</p> + +<p>Noiselessly, with infinite precautions, with searching and suspicious +glances, taking care to keep off the gravel of the paths, tip-toeing on +the grass edging the flower beds, where his steps made no sound, a man +left the house and went towards the garden gate.</p> + +<p>He quickly reached it; and there he commenced to whistle a soft, slow, +monotonous, and continuous whistle.</p> + +<p>Second succeeded second; then another whistle, identical in rhythm, +replied: soon a voice asked:</p> + +<p>"It's you, Jules?"</p> + +<p>"It is I, master!"</p> + +<p>The man whom Jules named "master," was the stranger, who, for two weary +hours, had kept strict watch over the goings and comings of the +house....</p> + +<p>"All well, Jules?"</p> + +<p>"All well, master!"</p> + +<p>"And nothing new?..."</p> + +<p>"I don't know about that, master: she has written a letter...."</p> + +<p>"To whom?..."</p> + +<p>"I couldn't say.... I could not see the address, master...."</p> + +<p>"You red-headed idiot!"</p> + +<p>The servant protested.</p> + +<p>"No, it was not my fault!... She did not write in the drawing-room, but +in her own room.... I couldn't get a squint at her paper...."</p> + +<p>"Did she not say anything?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing."</p> + +<p>"Did she look upset?"</p> + +<p>"A little."</p> + +<p>"No one suspects anything?"</p> + +<p>"I hope not, master!... Gods and little fishes, if anyone suspected!"</p> + +<p>The visitor's voice grew harsh, imperious.</p> + +<p>"Enough," said he. "We have no time to lose!"</p> + +<p>"How? No time...."</p> + +<p>"That's it! We must set to work...."</p> + +<p>"Work?... Now?... This very night?... Oh, master, surely not!"</p> + +<p>"Don't I? Do you imagine that I arranged a meeting only for the pleasure +of talking to you?... Come on, now!... March!"</p> + +<p>"What are we to do?"</p> + +<p>A moment's silence.</p> + +<p>"I cannot see the house very well, because of the branches: +listen—look!... Isn't there a light?... Someone still up?"</p> + +<p>"No. They've all gone to bed."</p> + +<p>"Good. And she?"</p> + +<p>"She, too."</p> + +<p>"You did what I told you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, master."</p> + +<p>"You were able to pour out the narcotic?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, master."</p> + +<p>"And then?"</p> + +<p>"What do you mean by then?"</p> + +<p>"Have you carried out all my orders ... the last?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, it is all right!... I went into her room and blew out the lamp."</p> + +<p>"Good! Now for it!..."</p> + +<p>A slight brushing sound, along the low stone wall of the garden, was +barely perceptible to a listening ear. The wall was topped by railings, +and the gate had sheets of iron fastened to it. In a twinkling, the +stranger leaped down beside Jules.</p> + +<p>"It's child's play to vault that gate," he said.</p> + +<p>By the uncertain light of the stars, Jules could see the individual who +had just joined him. His appearance was fantastic, and the wretched +Jules started and trembled in every limb. The stranger, who had thus +invaded Madame Bourrat's domain, who a short while before had been +wearing a long cloak and immense sombrero, wore them no longer. Probably +he had rid himself of them by casting them among the bramble bushes on +the waste ground around rue Docteur Blanche.... Now he was clad in a +long black knitted garment moulded tightly to his figure, a sinister +garment, by means of which the wearer can blend with the darkness so as +to be almost indistinguishable. His face was entirely concealed by a +long black hood, a movable mask, which prevented his features being +seen: through two slits gleamed two eyeballs: they might have burned a +way through like glowing coals.</p> + +<p>"Master!... Master!" murmured Jules. "What are you going to do now?"</p> + +<p>This spectral figure replied in a low tone:</p> + +<p>"Fool!... go on in front—or no—better follow me! And not a sound—it's +as much as your skin is worth!... Take care—great care!"</p> + +<p>The two men advanced in silence. But, while Jules seemed to take +exaggerated precautions to prevent being heard, his companion seemed +naturally shod with silence.</p> + +<p>He advanced noiselessly, almost invisible in his black garment.</p> + +<p>The two accomplices were soon at the front-door steps of the house.</p> + +<p>"Open," commanded the master.</p> + +<p>Jules slipped a key into the lock: noiselessly the door turned on its +hinges.</p> + +<p>"Listen," whispered the cloaked man. "Half-way up the stairs, you must +stop: I do not wish you to go right up...."</p> + +<p>"But..."</p> + +<p>"Do as I say! You must keep watch.... If, by chance, you should hear a +noise, if I were to be taken by surprise, you must go downstairs, making +a great noise and shouting at the top of your voice: 'Stop him!... Stop +him!...' Thus, in the first moment of confusion, everyone will rush +after you, and that will give me time to choose my way of escape."</p> + +<p>Jules, whatever his fears, did not dare to question his instructions.</p> + +<p>"Very good, master," he breathed. "I'll do as you say."</p> + +<p>"I should think you would," scoffed his master, almost inaudibly.</p> + +<p>Leaving his accomplice on the stairs, the masked man went forward. He +seemed to know the ins and outs of the house, for he turned into the +corridor and, without a moment's hesitation, walked towards the door of +Elizabeth Dollon's room. He put his ear against it.</p> + +<p>"She sleeps," he murmured.</p> + +<p>He had inserted a key in the lock: there was an obstacle to its easy +entrance.</p> + +<p>"Confound it! The girl has left her own key in the lock!" he said +softly.... "What the deuce am I to do now? What did Jules do when he got +in and put out the lamp?... Why, of course, he took off the screw that +fixes the staple—a simple push will suffice." With a push of his +shoulder the door yielded. The stranger entered and carefully closed the +door. He walked to the window and drew the curtains, muttering:</p> + +<p>"That fool should have thought of this just now."</p> + +<p>Taking a small electric torch from his pocket he turned on the light. +Calmly, collectedly, he approached a couch at one side of the room.... +On it lay Elizabeth Dollon in a deep sleep. She looked white as death.</p> + +<p>"An excellent narcotic," he muttered, bending over the unconscious girl. +"When one thinks that she took it at dinner, then went out, and that +then it produced its effect!..."</p> + +<p>Moving away from Elizabeth, he crossed the room to where the contents of +the overturned trunk lay.</p> + +<p>"Damnable papers!" he growled low. "To think!... It is too late now to +continue the search.... Bah! By shutting the mouth of an informant ... +that's the way to settle it ... the best way too!... Now for it!..."</p> + +<p>Without apparent effort, the man in the hooded mask seized Elizabeth +Dollon in his muscular arms.</p> + +<p>"Come, mademoiselle," he said in a jeering tone. "Come to bye-bye! Sleep +better than on this sofa! You will sleep a longer sleep, that's +certain!" An evil smile punctuated these sinister remarks.</p> + +<p>He laid the poor girl's body on the floor in the middle of the room; +then, approaching a little gas stove, he detached the india-rubber tube +and slipped the end of it between his victim's teeth.</p> + +<p>He turned the gas tap....</p> + +<p>"Perfect!" he said, as he straightened himself.</p> + +<p>"To-morrow morning, early, at eight o'clock, or at nine, the excellent +Madame Bourrat will open the meter. The narcotic this child has taken +will prevent her from waking, so that, without suffering, without cries, +quite gently—pfuit!... sweet Elizabeth will pass from life to death!... +But it will not do to linger here ... let us find Jules and give him the +necessary instructions!"</p> + +<p>The stranger went out into the corridor closing the door. The thing had +been well managed; the screws keeping the bolt case in position were put +back in their holes—the key remained inside—no one would suspect that +only a slight push was necessary to get into the room.</p> + +<p>With a chuckle, the stranger bent down and pushed a tassel under the +door.</p> + +<p>The servant must not discover the trick when she is sweeping the +passage: now with this wedge, the door cannot be opened without a +violent push.</p> + +<p>With a last glance up and down the passage, illuminated for a moment by +his electric torch, the stranger made sure that there was no one about +to see him; then, with silent tread, he began to go downstairs....</p> + +<p>Half-way down, his accomplice awaited him.</p> + +<p>"Well, master?" questioned Jules in a low, trembling voice.</p> + +<p>In a calm, quiet voice, the man in the hood mask replied:</p> + +<p>"It is done—is successful.... I have wedged the door to. You will be +careful when you are sweeping to-morrow."</p> + +<p>Jules lowered his head.</p> + +<p>"Yes ... yes.... Have you?..."</p> + +<p>The stranger put his hand on the servant's shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Listen," whispered the stranger, "I do not repeat my orders twenty +times over,... have I not already told you that I do not allow myself to +be questioned?... try to remember that!... You wish to know whether I +have killed her?... Well, I will tell you this: I have not killed her. +But I have so managed things that she will kill herself!... A suicide, +you understand.... One piece of advice: to-morrow, keep anyone from +going to her room as long as you can ... if Madame Bourrat, or anyone +else asks for her, you must say that you saw her leave the house—that +she has gone out...."</p> + +<p>"But," protested Jules, "it is impossible, what you tell me to say, +master! It just happens that she is expecting visitors to-morrow!... She +told me that, on this account, she meant to stay indoors all day!"</p> + +<p>The man with the hood mask ground his teeth.</p> + +<p>"You idiot! What does that matter?... You are to say: Mademoiselle +Elizabeth has just gone out, but she told me that she was not going far, +and that she would return in about twenty minutes.... If anyone should +ask for her again, you are to answer that she has not come in yet!..."</p> + +<p>"But ... master ... when they find out what's happened really?..."</p> + +<p>"Ho! When it is discovered, it will seem quite natural that a person who +means to commit suicide—for she will have committed suicide, you +understand—should have taken precautions not to be disturbed ... you +grasp this?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, master ... yes!..."</p> + +<p>They had returned to the garden: the man in the hooded mask was +preparing to get over the gate....</p> + +<p>"Farewell! Be faithful! Be intelligent!... You know what you have to +gain?... You also know what risks you run?... Eh!... Now go!"</p> + +<p>"You will return to-morrow, master?"</p> + +<p>The man with the hooded mask looked his accomplice up and down.</p> + +<p>"I shall return when it pleases me to do so."</p> + +<p>Then, with marvellous agility, without making a spring for it, with a +quite extraordinary muscular flexibility and power, the stranger leaped +on to the little wall, cleared the gate, and disappeared into the +night....</p> + +<p>Jules, with bent head, much moved, terribly anxious, slowly walked back +to the house....</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XIII" id="XIII"></a>XIII</h2> + +<h3>RUE RAFFET</h3> + + +<p>Maray, second reporter of <i>La Capitale</i>, shook hands with Fandor.</p> + +<p>"Are you in a good humour, dear boy?"</p> + +<p>"So—so...."</p> + +<p>"Ah! Well, here is something which will cheer you up, I'm sure!... +Here's a letter from a lady for you.... I found it in my pigeon-hole by +mistake!"</p> + +<p>Fandor smiled.</p> + +<p>"From a lady?... You must be mistaken!... How do you know it is?"</p> + +<p>"By the handwriting, the paper, and so on—I'm not mistaken—am I +ever?..." Laughing, Maray threw down on Fandor's table a small envelope +with a deep black border.</p> + +<p>"Yes, it is a letter from a woman," said Fandor, as he picked it up: +"from whom?... Ah,... why yes!..."</p> + +<p>With a hasty finger, he tore open the envelope whilst his colleague +withdrew making a joking remark.</p> + +<p>"Dear boy, I leave you to this tender missive: I should be annoyed with +myself were I to interrupt your reflections!"</p> + +<p>Fandor's friend would have been surprised, if he could have seen the +gloomy expression which the perusal of this so-called love-letter +produced. Jérôme had turned to the signature—<i>Elizabeth Dollon</i>.</p> + +<p>"What does she want with me?" he asked himself. "After the extraordinary +affair of rue du Quatre Septembre, one must suppose that she has arrived +at some conclusion regarding the possible guilt of her brother ... so +long as she does not let her imagination run away with her, and, like +the police, fancy that Jacques Dollon is still in the land of the +living? The position the poor thing is in is a very cruel one!"</p> + +<p>Fandor had met Jacques Dollon's young sister repeatedly; and, every +time, he had been more and more troubled by the poor girl's touching +grief, as well as by her pathetic beauty, which had made a great +impression on him.... He began to read her letter.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><i>"Dear Sir,</i></p> + +<p><i>You have been so good to me in all my troubles, you have shown me +such true sympathy, that I do not hesitate to ask your help once +more.</i></p> + +<p><i>Such an extraordinary thing has happened to me which I cannot +account for at all, which, nevertheless, makes me think, more than +ever, that my poor brother is living, innocent, and kept prisoner, +perhaps by those who compel him to accept the responsibility for +all those horrible crimes you know about.</i></p> + +<p><i>To-day, whilst I was in Paris on business, some people, of whom I +know nothing, I need hardly say, whom not a soul in the private +boarding-house where I am saw, these persons entered my room!</i></p> + +<p><i>I found all my belongings turned upside down; my papers scattered +over the floor, every drawer and trunk and box ransacked from top +to bottom!</i></p> + +<p><i>You can guess how frightened I was....</i></p> + +<p><i>I do not think they had come to do me any personal harm, not even +to rob me, for I had left my modest jewellery on the mantelpiece +and found them still there: those who entered my room did not covet +valuables.</i></p> + +<p><i>Then, why did they come?</i></p> + +<p><i>You are perhaps going to say that my imagination is playing me +tricks!... Nevertheless, I assure you that I try to keep calm, but +I cannot keep control of myself, and I am terribly afraid!</i></p> + +<p><i>I have just said that nothing was stolen from me; I think, +however, it right to mention one strange coincidence.</i></p> + +<p><i>I was convinced that I had left, in a little red pocket-book, the +list I spoke to you of, which had been retrieved at my brother's +house on the day of Madame de Vibray's death. It was, as I have +told you, written in green ink by a person whose handwriting I do +not know. I can hardly tell why, but amidst all the disorders in my +room I immediately searched for this list. The little pocket-book +was on the floor amongst other papers, but the list was not to be +found in it.</i></p> + +<p><i>Am I mistaken? Have I packed it in somewhere else, or, allowing +for the fact that everything had been turned upside down, has this +paper slipped among other papers, which would explain why I had not +come across it again?</i></p> + +<p><i>In spite of myself, I must confess to you that the thieves, I +fancy, had only one aim in view when they entered my room, and that +was to get hold of this list.</i></p> + +<p><i>What is your opinion?</i></p> + +<p><i>I feel that perhaps I am about to show myself both inconsiderate +and injudicious, but you know how miserable I am, and you will +understand how the position I am in gives me grounds for being +distracted. I am bent on talking this over with you, on knowing +what you think of it. Perhaps even, knowing how clever you are, you +might be able to find something, an indication, some detail, in my +room? I have not touched anything.</i></p> + +<p><i>I shall stay indoors all to-morrow in the hope of seeing you; do +come if you possibly can. It seems to me that I am forsaken by +everyone, and I trust only you...."</i></p></div> + +<p>Jérôme Fandor read and reread this letter, which had been written with a +trembling hand.</p> + +<p>"Poor little soul!" he murmured. "Here is something more to add to her +troubles! It is really terrible! It seems to me as if we should never +come to the end of it; and I ask myself, whether the police will ever +find the key to all these mysteries!...</p> + +<p>"Did someone really break into Elizabeth Dollon's room to steal this +paper? It is rather improbable. Judging from what she told me, there is +nothing compromising in it. But then, why this search?... She is right +so far: if the intruders had been merely thieves, they would have +carried off her jewellery!... Then it is for that paper they came? +Besides, ordinary burglars would have had considerable difficulty in +getting into her room, where she is remarkably well guarded, by the very +fact of there being other boarders in the house....</p> + +<p>"No, the very audacity of this attempted theft seems to prove, that it +is connected with the other affairs which have brought the name of +Jacques Dollon into such prominence!</p> + +<p>"I see in this the same extraordinary audacity, the same certainty of +escape, the same long and careful preparation, for it is a by no means +convenient place for a burglary in open day: comings and goings are +perpetual, and the guilty persons ran a hundred risks of being +caught...."</p> + +<p>Fandor interrupted his reflections to read Elizabeth's letter once more.</p> + +<p>"She is dying of fright! That is evident!... In any case she calls to me +for help. Her letter was posted yesterday evening.... I will go and see +her—and at once.... Who knows but I might find some clue which would +put me on the right track?"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Jérôme Fandor did not feel very hopeful.</p> + +<p>After having gone carefully over every point connected with, and +pertaining to, the affair of rue du Quatre Septembre, he had almost come +to the conclusion, optimistic as he was regarding the police, that +chance alone would bring about the arrest of the guilty parties.</p> + +<p>"To lay these criminals by the heels," he had frankly declared, +"requires the aid of very favourable circumstances, and without them, +neither I nor the police will get at the truth of it all."</p> + +<p>Fandor made a definite distinction between the opinion of the police and +his own, because two different theories now obtained with regard to the +two affairs: that of the attack on the Princess Sonia Danidoff, and that +of the robbery of rue du Quatre Septembre, where the imprints of Jacques +Dollon's fingers had been found.</p> + +<p>The police and Fandor coupled Monsieur Havard with Monsieur Bertillon +under this definition; the police held it for certain that Jacques +Dollon was alive, very much alive, and the probabilities were great that +he was guilty of the different crimes attributed to him.</p> + +<p>In an interview granted to a press rival of <i>La Capitale</i> Monsieur +Bertillon had stated:</p> + +<p>"We base our assertion that Dollon is alive, and consequently guilty, on +material facts: we have found his signature attached to each of the +crimes, and it is a signature which cannot be imitated by anyone...."</p> + +<p>For his part, Fandor held it as certain that Jacques was dead.</p> + +<p>"I maintain that, since fifty persons have seen Jacques Dollon dead, it +is infinitely more likely that he is dead than that he is alive! The +imprints of his fingers, his hand, are equally visible, it is true, and +seem to prove that he is alive. But the conclusive nature of this test +is nullified by the fact that, before the discovery of these imprints, +before these imprints had been made, Jacques Dollon was dead!"</p> + +<p>And in his articles in <i>La Capitale</i>, Jérôme Fandor, with a persistency +which finished by disconcerting even the most convinced partisans of the +police contention, continued to maintain that Jacques Dollon was dead, +dead as dead, and, to use his own expression, "as dead as it was +possible for anyone to be dead!"</p> + +<p>Jérôme Fandor had just rung the bell at the garden gate of Madame +Bourrat's private boarding-house in Auteuil.</p> + +<p>Jules hastened to answer this ring, and was met by the question:</p> + +<p>"Is Mademoiselle Elizabeth Dollon at home?"</p> + +<p>"No, monsieur. She went out not an hour ago!"</p> + +<p>"And you are certain she has not returned?"</p> + +<p>"Absolutely, monsieur.... There are two visitors waiting for her +already."</p> + +<p>"She will be in soon, then?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly, monsieur: she will not be long...."</p> + +<p>Fandor looked at his watch.</p> + +<p>"A quarter past ten!... Very well, I will wait for her."</p> + +<p>"If monsieur will kindly follow me?"</p> + +<p>Fandor was shown into the drawing-room. He had advanced only a step or +two when he was greeted with:</p> + +<p>"Why! Monsieur Fandor!"</p> + +<p>"I am delighted to see you!" cried Fandor, shaking hands with Monsieur +Barbey and Monsieur Nanteuil. Both gave him a pleasant smile of welcome.</p> + +<p>"You have come to see Mademoiselle Dollon, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. We have come to assure her that we will do all in our power to +help her out of her terrible difficulties. She wrote to us a few days +ago to ask if we would act as intermediaries regarding the sale of some +of her unfortunate brother's productions, also to see if we could get +her a situation in some dressmaking establishment.... We have come to +assure her of our entire sympathy."</p> + +<p>"That is most kind of you! They told you, did they not, that she had +gone out? I think she will not be absent long, for I have an appointment +with her. But, if you will allow me, I will go to the office and ask if +they have the least idea of which way she has gone, for I have little +time to spare, and if we could go to meet her, it would save, at least, +a few minutes...."</p> + +<p>Jérôme Fandor rose and went towards one of the drawing-room doors.</p> + +<p>"You are making a mistake," said Monsieur Nanteuil, "the office is this +way," and he pointed to another door.</p> + +<p>"Bah! All roads lead to Rome!" With that, Fandor went out by the door he +had approached first....</p> + +<p>"They are nice fellows," said Fandor to himself. "If Elizabeth Dollon is +really not in!... but... Is she really not in the house? I am by no +means sure.... If she feels timid at the idea of seeing the +bankers—their visit may have made her nervous, considering the state +she is in ... she might have sent to say she was not at home in order to +have time to add some finishing touches to her toilette."</p> + +<p>Fandor, who knew the house, mounted the little staircase leading to the +first floor. Elizabeth's room was on this floor. Before her door he +stopped and sniffed.</p> + +<p>"Queer smell!" he murmured. "It smells like gas!"</p> + +<p>He knocked boldly, calling:</p> + +<p>"Mademoiselle Elizabeth! It is I, Fandor!"</p> + +<p>The smell of gas became more pronounced as he waited.</p> + +<p>A horrible idea, an agonising fear, flashed through his mind.</p> + +<p>He knocked as hard as he could on the door.</p> + +<p>"Mademoiselle Elizabeth! Mademoiselle!"</p> + +<p>No answer.</p> + +<p>He called down the stairs:</p> + +<p>"Waiter!... Porter!"</p> + +<p>But apparently the one and only manservant the house boasted was +occupied elsewhere, for no one answered.</p> + +<p>Fandor returned to the door of Elizabeth's room, knelt down and tried to +look through the keyhole. The inside key was there, which seemed to +confirm his agonising fear.</p> + +<p>"She has not gone out then?"</p> + +<p>He took a deep breath.</p> + +<p>"What a horrible smell of gas!"</p> + +<p>This time he did not hesitate. He rose, stepped back, sprang forward, +and with a vigorous push from the shoulder, he drove the door off its +hinges.</p> + +<p>"My God!" he shouted.</p> + +<p>In the centre of the room, Fandor had just seen Elizabeth Dollon lying +unconscious. A tube, detached from a portable gas stove, was between her +tightly closed lips! The tap was turned full on. He flung himself on his +knees near the poor girl, pulled away the deadly tube, and put his ear +to her heart.</p> + +<p>What joy, what happiness, he felt when he heard, very feeble but quite +unmistakable beatings of Elizabeth's heart!</p> + +<p>"She lives!" What unspeakable relief Jérôme Fandor felt! What +thankfulness!</p> + +<p>The noise he had made breaking the door off its hinges brought the whole +household running to the spot. As the manservant, followed by Madame +Bourrat, followed in turn by Monsieur Barbey and Nanteuil, appeared in +the doorway uttering cries of terror, Jérôme called out:</p> + +<p>"No one is to come in!... It is an accident!"</p> + +<p>Then lifting Elizabeth in his strong arms, he carried her out of the +room.</p> + +<p>"What she needs is air!"</p> + +<p>He hurried downstairs and out into the garden with his precious burden, +followed by the terrified witnesses of the scene.</p> + +<p>"You have saved her life, monsieur!" cried Madame Bourrat in a tragic +voice. She groaned. "Oh, what a scandal!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I have saved her," replied Fandor as, panting with his exertions, +he laid Elizabeth Dollon flat on a garden seat.... "But from whom?... It +is certainly not attempted suicide! There is some mystery behind this +business: it's a regular theatrical performance arranged simply for +effect, and to mislead us," declared Fandor. Then, turning to the +bankers, he said courteously but with an air of command:</p> + +<p>"Please lay information with the superintendent of police at once ... +the nearest police station, you understand!"</p> + +<p>"Madame," he said, addressing the overwhelmed Madame Bourrat, "you will +be good enough to look after Mademoiselle Dollon, will you not?... Take +every care of her. There is not much to be done, however! I have seen +many cases of commencing asphyxia: she will regain consciousness now, in +a few minutes."</p> + +<p>Then, looking at the manservant, he said in a sharp tone:</p> + +<p>"Come with me! You will mount guard at the door of Mademoiselle +Elizabeth's room, whilst I try to discover some clues, before the police +arrive on the scene."</p> + +<p>To tell the truth, our young journalist felt embarrassed at the idea +that Elizabeth Dollon was about to regain consciousness, and that he +would have to submit to being thanked by her, when she knew who had +saved her.</p> + +<p>Accompanied by the manservant, he went quickly upstairs and into +Elizabeth's room.</p> + +<p>"You must not enter Mademoiselle Dollon's room on any account!" said +Fandor sternly. "It is quite enough that I should run the risk of +effacing the, probably very slight, clues which the delinquents have +left behind them...."</p> + +<p>"But, monsieur, if the young lady put the tubing between her lips, it +must have been because she wished to destroy herself!"</p> + +<p>"On the face of it you are right, my good fellow. But, when one is +right, one is often wrong!"</p> + +<p>Without more ado, Fandor started on a minute inspection of the room. +Elizabeth had but stated the truth when she wrote that it had been +thoroughly ransacked. Only her toilet things had been spared; but some +books had been taken from their shelves and thrown about the floor, +their pages crumpled and spoilt. He noticed the emptied trunk: its +contents—copy books, letters, pieces of music—had been roughly dealt +with. On the mantelpiece, in full view, lay Elizabeth's jewellery—some +rings and brooches, a small gold watch, a purse.</p> + +<p>"A very queer affair," murmured Fandor, who was kneeling in the middle +of the room, rummaging, searching, and not finding any clue. He rose, +carefully examined all the woodwork, but found nothing incriminating. He +examined the lock of the unhinged door, which had subsided on the floor. +The lock was intact, the bolt moved freely: the screws only of the +staple had given way.</p> + +<p>"That," thought Fandor, "is probably owing to the force of my thrust!"</p> + +<p>The window fastening was intact: the window closed.</p> + +<p>"If the robbers," reflected Fandor, "got into a closed room, they must +have used false keys."</p> + +<p>Having examined the means of access to the room, Fandor started on a +still more minute examination of the interior. He scrutinised the +furniture and the slight powdering of dust on each article: in vain!... +Then the washstand had its turn: nothing!... He scrutinised the soap.</p> + +<p>"Ah! This is interesting!" he cried. The manservant had made himself +scarce; and Fandor, unobserved, could wrap up the piece of soap in his +handkerchief and hide it in the lowest drawer of the chest of drawers, +under a pile of linen. He was whistling now.</p> + +<p>"That bit of soap is interesting—very!" he cried. "Let the police come! +I am not afraid of their blundering!... Now to see how Elizabeth is +getting on!"</p> + +<p>When he reached her side, he found she had recovered full consciousness, +and was preparing to answer the questions of a police superintendent, +who, summoned by the bankers, had hastened to the scene of action. He +was a stout, apoplectic man, very full of his own importance.</p> + +<p>"Come now, mademoiselle, tell us just how things happened from beginning +to end! We ask nothing better than to believe you, but do not conceal +any detail—not the slightest...."</p> + +<p>Poor Elizabeth Dollon, when she heard this speech, stared at the pompous +police official, astonished. What had she to conceal? What had she to +gain by lying? What did he think, this fat policeman, who took it upon +himself to issue orders, when he should rather have tried to comfort +her! Nevertheless, she at once began telling him all that she knew with +regard to the affair. She told him of her letter to Fandor: that her +room had been visited the evening before: by whom she did not know ... +that she had not said a word about it to anyone, fearing vengeance would +fall on her, frightened, not understanding what it all meant....</p> + +<p>Then she came to what the police dignitary called "her suicide." As she +finished her recital with a reference to her rescue by Fandor, she +looked at the young journalist. It was a look of great gratitude and a +kind of ardent tenderness, with a touch of fear in it.</p> + +<p>"Strange, very strange!" pronounced the superintendent of police, who +had been taking notes with an air of great gravity. "So very strange, +mademoiselle, that it is very difficult to credit your statements!... +very difficult indeed!..."</p> + +<p>Whilst he was speaking, Fandor was saying to himself:</p> + +<p>"Decidedly, it is that!... Just what I was thinking! It is quite clear, +clear as the sun in the sky, evident, indisputable!" And he refused, +very politely of course—for one has to respect the authorities—to +accompany the superintendent, who, in his turn, went upstairs to +Elizabeth's room, in order to carry out the necessary legal +verification....</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XIV" id="XIV"></a>XIV</h2> + +<h3>SOMEONE TELEPHONED</h3> + + +<p>The nuns of the order of Saint Augustin were not expelled in consequence +of the Decrees. This was a special favour, but one fully justified, +because of the incalculable benefits this community conferred on +suffering humanity. The vast convent of rue de la Glacière continues to +serve as a shelter for these holy women, and as a sort of hospital for +the sick. For close on a hundred years, generation after generation of +those living near its walls have heard the convent clock sound the hours +in solemn tones; so, too, the convent chapel's shrill-voiced bells have +never failed to remind the faithful that the daily offices of their +church are being said and sung by the holy sisters within the hallowed +walls.</p> + +<p>In the vast quarter of Paris, peopled with hospitals and prisons, the +convent shows a stern front in the shape of a high, blackened wall. A +great courtyard gate, in which a window with iron bars and grating is +the only visible opening to the exterior world.</p> + +<p>About half-past six in the morning, slightly out of breath with his +rapid walk from the Metropolitan station, Jérôme Fandor rang the convent +door bell. The sound could be heard echoing and re-echoing in the +vaulted corridors, till it died away in the stony distance. There was a +silence: then the iron-barred window was half opened, and Fandor heard a +voice asking:</p> + +<p>"What do you want, monsieur?"</p> + +<p>"I wish to speak to Madame the Superior," replied Fandor.</p> + +<p>The window was closed again and a lengthy silence followed. Then, +slowly, the heavy entrance gate swung half open. Fandor entered the +convent. Under the arched doorway, a nun received him with a slight +salutation, and turned her back.</p> + +<p>"Kindly follow me," she murmured.</p> + +<p>Fandor followed along a narrow passage, on one side of which were cells, +whilst on the other, it opened by means of large bays, on a vast +rectangular cloister quite deserted. A door-window in the passage was +ajar: the nun stopped here and said:</p> + +<p>"Kindly wait in this parlour, and be good enough to let me have your +card. I will inform our Mother Superior that you wish to see her."</p> + +<p>The room in which our journalist found himself was severely furnished: +its walls were white, on them hung a great ivory crucifix, and here and +there, a simple religious picture framed in ebony. A few chairs were +ranged in a circle about an oval table: on the floor, polished till it +shone like a mirror, were a few small mats, which gave a touch of +common-place comfort to the icy regularity of this parlour, set apart +for official visits.</p> + +<p>What emotions, what dramas, what joys, have had this parlour for a +setting! It is there that the life of the cloister touches mundane +existence; it is there the nuns receive their future companions in the +religious life and their weeping families; it is there the parents of +those in the convent infirmary come to hear from the doctor's lips the +decrees of life or death; for the convent is not only a retreat, it is +an asylum for the sick, the ailing, recommended to their patients by the +most eminent doctors, the most prominent surgeons.</p> + +<p>Accustomed though he was to every kind of human misery, Fandor shuddered +at the thought of all these walls had seen and heard. His reflections +were broken by the arrival of a little old lady, whose eyes shone +strangely luminous in her pale and wrinkled face—a face showing the +highest distinction.</p> + +<p>Fandor made a deep bow: it might have expressed the reverence of the +world to religion.</p> + +<p>"Madame la Supérieure," murmured he, "I have come to pay my respects to +you and to ask for news of your boarder."</p> + +<p>The Mother Superior, in a gay tone, which contrasted with her cold and +reserved appearance, replied at once:</p> + +<p>"Ah, you preferred to come yourself! You had not the patience to wait at +the telephone? I quite understand. Would you believe it, while the +sister, who has charge of this young girl, was being sent for, the +communication was cut off. That is why we could not give you any +information."</p> + +<p>Fandor stared.</p> + +<p>"But I do not understand, madame?"</p> + +<p>The Mother Superior replied:</p> + +<p>"Was it not you then who telephoned this morning to ask for news of +Mademoiselle Dollon?"</p> + +<p>"I certainly did not do so!"</p> + +<p>"In that case, I do not understand what it means, either! But it does +not matter much: you shall see your protégée now."</p> + +<p>The Mother Superior rang: a sister appeared.</p> + +<p>"Sister, will you take this gentleman to Mademoiselle Dollon! She was +walking in the park a short while ago, and is probably there now.... +Monsieur, I bid you good day."</p> + +<p>Gliding swiftly and noiselessly over the polished floor, the Mother +Superior disappeared. The nun led the way and Fandor followed: he was +very much upset by what the Mother Superior had just told him.</p> + +<p>"How had Elizabeth's place of refuge been so quickly discovered?... Who +could have telephoned to get news of her?"</p> + +<p>The nun had led Fandor across the great rectangular courtyard; then by +corridors, and many winding, vaulted passages, they had come out on to a +terrace, overlooking an immense park, which extended further than the +eye could see. Here were bosky dells, ancient trees, bowers and grooves, +meadows where milky mothers chewed the cud in the shade of blossoming +apple trees. It might have been in Normandy, a hundred leagues from +Paris!</p> + +<p>The nun turned to the admiring Fandor.</p> + +<p>"The young lady you seek, monsieur, is coming along this path: there she +is!... I will leave you."</p> + +<p>Fandor had seen Elizabeth's graceful figure moving towards him, thrown +into charming relief by the country landscape flooded with sunshine. In +her modest mourning dress, with her fair shining hair, she appeared +prettier than ever: a touching figure of sorrowing beauty!</p> + +<p>Elizabeth pressed Fandor's hands warmly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, thank you, monsieur, thank you!" she cried, "for having come to see +me this morning. I know how little spare time you have! I feel vexed +with myself for putting you out so ... but you see"—Elizabeth could not +repress a sob—"I am so alone ... so desolate ... I have lost everything +I cared for ... and you are the only person I can trust and confide in +now!... I feel like a bit of wreckage at the mercy of wind and wave; I +feel as though I were surrounded by enemies: I live in a nightmare.... +What should I do without you to turn to?..."</p> + +<p>Our young journalist, moved by such great misfortune so simply, so +candidly expressed, returned the pressure of Elizabeth's hands.</p> + +<p>"You know, mademoiselle," he said softly, but in a voice vibrating with +sympathetic emotion—the only sign of feeling he permitted himself to +show—"you know that you can count absolutely on me. In getting you to +take a few days' rest in this retreat, I felt I was doing what was best +for you. You are not solitary; but your surroundings are peaceful and +friendly, and should you have enemies, though I am loath to think it, +you are sheltered here beyond their reach. With reference to that, have +you given your address to anyone, since yesterday?"</p> + +<p>"To no one," replied Elizabeth. "Has anyone by chance?..."</p> + +<p>She looked troubled, and gave an anxious questioning glance at Fandor.</p> + +<p>He did not want to frighten the much-tried girl, but he wished to solve +the mystery of the unaccountable telephone call.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I just wished to know, mademoiselle.... Now, tell me, have you +quite recovered from ... your experience of the other day?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, monsieur, I owe my life to you!" cried Elizabeth. "For, I am +certain that someone wished to get rid of me ... don't you agree with +me?... I must have been dosed with some narcotic, just as they dosed my +poor brother, for I am now absolutely convinced that he also was sent to +sleep and poisoned...."</p> + +<p>"And that he is dead! Is that not so?" asked Fandor in a low voice.</p> + +<p>Without hesitation, in a tearful voice, Elizabeth repeated:</p> + +<p>"And that he is dead. You have given me so many proofs that it is so, +that I can no longer doubt it, alas! But I will take courage, as I +promised you I would. I ought to live, that I may strive to rehabilitate +his memory, and restore to him his reputation as a man of probity, of +honour, to which he is entitled. But directly I begin to think about the +horrible mystery in which I am involved, my very reason seems to +totter—you can understand that, can you not? I don't understand, I +don't know, I can't guess ... oh!..."</p> + +<p>"But," interrupted Fandor, "we must seriously consider the situation in +all its bearings. It may cause you atrocious suffering, but you must +summon all your courage, mademoiselle. We must discuss it."</p> + +<p>Fandor and Elizabeth had moved away from the terrace, and were now in +the leafy solitudes of the park.</p> + +<p>Fandor began:</p> + +<p>"There is that paper with its list of names, written in green ink, +mademoiselle! It was a mistake on your part not to attach any importance +to it until you fancied, and perhaps rightly, that someone had tried to +steal it from you. Come now, can you tell me whether this list is still +in your possession, or not?"</p> + +<p>Elizabeth shook her head sadly.</p> + +<p>"I do not know, I cannot tell! My poor head is so bewildered, and I find +it all the trouble in the world to collect my thoughts. I told you, the +other day, that this list had disappeared from a little red pocket book, +that I had put on the chimney piece of my room at Auteuil. But the more +I think it over, the more doubtful I am.... It seems to me now, that +this list ought to be, must be still—unless it has been stolen +since—in the big trunk, into which I threw, pell-mell, the papers and +books my brother left scattered about his writing table. To be quite +sure about this, we must return to Auteuil.... But perhaps it is +useless; because when I wanted to send it to you some forty-eight hours +ago, I searched everywhere for the wretched thing, and in vain!... I am +not even sure now that I brought it away with me from rue Norvins!"</p> + +<p>Fandor gently comforted the distracted girl whose eyes were full of +tears.</p> + +<p>"Do not be disheartened. Try rather to put together in your memory what +was written in this paper! You told me, surely, that there were names in +this list of persons you knew, or had heard of? Search your memory a +little, mademoiselle."</p> + +<p>"I don't know! I cannot remember!" cried Elizabeth nervously.</p> + +<p>"Come now," said Fandor encouragingly, "I know an excellent way of +assisting the memory. The eyes are like a sensitive photographic plate: +what the brain does not always retain, the mirror of the eye registers: +do not try to remember, but try, as it were, to read on white paper what +your eyes saw!..."</p> + +<p>"Let us sit down a minute and I will help you to do it!" Fandor pointed +out a rustic seat, under the trees, in front of which was a garden +table. They sat down together and Fandor drew from his pocket a sheet of +white paper and his fountain pen.</p> + +<p>Elizabeth's arm touched his shoulder.</p> + +<p>As though electrified by this contact, the two young people trembled, +their eyes met in a glance full of troubled emotion—a feeling new to +both—whose immense significance neither understood. Fandor remained +speechless, and Elizabeth blushed.</p> + +<p>They gazed at each other, embarrassed, not knowing what to say for +themselves; and their embarrassment was only relieved by the appearance +of the sister who attended to the turning box at the entrance gate. She +stood at the top of the steps leading down to the park and called +Elizabeth.</p> + +<p>"Mademoiselle! Mademoiselle! There is someone on the telephone who +wishes to speak to you!"</p> + +<p>Fandor rose.</p> + +<p>"Will you allow me to accompany you, mademoiselle? I am very curious to +know whether the person now asking for you is identical with the person +who asked for you a little while ago?"</p> + +<p>The young couple hurried to the big parlour, and Elizabeth went to the +telephone.</p> + +<p>"Hullo?..."</p> + +<p>Elizabeth had handed one of the receivers to Fandor. He heard a +voice—an unknown voice, but beyond question masculine—who said, over +the wire:</p> + +<p>"Hullo!... Is it really Mademoiselle Dollon to whom I have the honour of +speaking?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, monsieur. Who is speaking to me?"</p> + +<p>But just as Elizabeth was about to repeat her question, Fandor thought +he heard whoever had called up Elizabeth, hang up the receivers. No +reply reached them!...</p> + +<p>Elizabeth cried impatiently:</p> + +<p>"Hullo!... Hullo!... Who is speaking to me?"</p> + +<p>But there was no one at the end of the line!</p> + +<p>Fandor swore softly to himself, then seizing the two receivers he +called:</p> + +<p>"Hullo! Come, monsieur, reply!... Whom do you want? Who are you?"</p> + +<p>He could not obtain any reply.</p> + +<p>Fandor rang up the central office. When the telephone girl answered, he +called:</p> + +<p>"Mademoiselle, why have you cut me off?"</p> + +<p>"But I have done nothing of the kind, monsieur!"</p> + +<p>"But I cannot get any reply!"</p> + +<p>"It is because the receivers have been hung up by whoever called you. I +assure you that is so."</p> + +<p>"What was my caller's number?"</p> + +<p>"I cannot tell you that, monsieur—the rules forbid it."</p> + +<p>Fandor knew this quite well, so he did not insist further. But, as he +turned away from the telephone, a dull anger smouldered within him.</p> + +<p>"Who was this mysterious individual who had called Elizabeth twice over +the telephone, and then, no sooner put into communication with her, had +refused to talk to her?"</p> + +<p>Fandor felt nervous, anxious, exasperated by this incident; but it would +never do to trouble his young friend to no good purpose. He led her back +to the garden.</p> + +<p>"Where were we in our talk, monsieur?" asked Elizabeth.</p> + +<p>With a considerable effort, the journalist collected his thoughts.</p> + +<p>"We were discussing the mysterious paper found at your brother's, +mademoiselle."</p> + +<p>In agreement with Elizabeth, Jérôme Fandor determined the approximate +size of this list of addresses. He tore from his note-book a sheet of +white paper.</p> + +<p>Elizabeth looked fixedly at the white sheet for a long time, as though, +by concentrated will power, she could force the mysterious names which +she read some days before on the original paper, to rise up in front of +her eyes. Certainly it seemed to her that on this list figured the name +of her brother, that of the Baroness de Vibray, lawyer Gérin's also: +then she remembered a double name, a name not unknown to her, which had +appeared in the list.</p> + +<p>"Barbey-Nanteuil!" she suddenly cried. "Yes, I do believe those two +names were on it!"</p> + +<p>Fandor smiled. Encouraged by his smile and the results of this +semi-clairvoyant attempt, Elizabeth allowed her thoughts free play.</p> + +<p>"I am sure of it: there was even a mistake in spelling: <i>Nanteuil</i> was +spelled <i>Nauteuil</i>: the bankers were third or fourth on the list, and I +am certain now that the Baroness de Vibray's name headed the list.... +There was also a date, composed of two figures—a 1 ... then—wait a +minute!... a figure with a tail to it ... that is to say, it could only +have been a 5, a 7, or a 9.... I cannot remember which. Then there were +other names I had never heard of."</p> + +<p>"Try, mademoiselle, to remember...."</p> + +<p>There was a silence. Fandor was puzzling over the figures +he had written down in the order Elizabeth had mentioned +them—fifteen—seventeen—nineteen—but what could he deduce from +them?... Ah!... The mysterious robbery of rue du Quatre Septembre was +committed on May 15th! There may be a clue there! The thread of Fandor's +reflections were abruptly broken by a cry from Elizabeth.</p> + +<p>"I have recalled a name—something like ... Thomas!... Does that tell +you anything?"</p> + +<p>"Thomas?" repeated Jérôme Fandor slowly.... "I don't see...."</p> + +<p>But suddenly he saw light!</p> + +<p>He jumped up:</p> + +<p>"Isn't it Thomery?" cried he, intensely excited. "Are you not +confounding Thomas with Thomery?"</p> + +<p>Elizabeth, taken aback, confused, tried hard to remember: she threshed +her memory with knitted brows.</p> + +<p>"It may be so," she declared. "I see quite clearly the first letters of +the word—Thom ... written in a large hand,... then the rest is +indistinct ... but I have the impression that the end of the word is +longer than the last syllable of Thomas."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you are right!"</p> + +<p>Fandor was no longer listening to her. He had left the rustic bench, and +without paying any attention to Elizabeth, he began walking up and down +the shady path, talking to himself in a low tone, as was his habit when +he wished to reduce his thoughts to order.</p> + +<p>"Thomas—that is Thomery; Jacques Dollon, the Baroness de Vibray, +Barbey-Nanteuil, lawyer Gérin—but they are all the victims of the +mysterious band that plots and plans in the shade!... It is +incomprehensible—but we shall find a way to get to the bottom of it +all!"</p> + +<p>Fandor returned to Elizabeth.</p> + +<p>"We shall get to the bottom of these mysteries," cried he, with so +triumphant an air, his face shining with joy, that Elizabeth, in spite +of her torturing anxieties, could not help smiling.</p> + +<p>They were alone in these green and flowery spaces. A great peace was all +about them. The birds were singing, the breeze lightly stirred the trees +and bushes with caressing breaths.... Fandor gazed tenderly at +Elizabeth, very tenderly.... The young girl smiled tremulously, as she +met this glance of lover-like tenderness.</p> + +<p>"We shall get to the bottom of it," repeated Fandor. "You will see, I +promise you...."</p> + +<p>Their glances mingled in a mute communion of thought and feeling.... +Spontaneously, their hands met and clasped.... They were standing close +together, and theirs the consciousness of living through an +unforgettable moment: they felt most vividly alive together. How young +they were! How intoxicating, a moment!... The world of outside things +ceased to exist for them.... They were enwrapt in a glowing world of +their own!... Fandor's hand slid to Elizabeth's shoulder; he leaned +towards the unresisting girl, and with closed eyes, their lips met in a +long kiss—a kiss all ecstasy....</p> + +<p>It was a moment's mutual madness!... The instant past, both knew it. +Torn from this momentary dream of bliss, they gazed at each other, +embarrassed, greatly moved: for that very reason they wished to part. +Ah, this was not the moment to speak of love, to dream of happiness and +mutual joy! Dark, dreadful mysteries enclosed them: it was a sinister +net they struggled in: as yet they could see no clear way out!... They +had no right to be themselves until the mysteries were cleared away.... +They could not belong to each other now!</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Fandor, when taking leave of Elizabeth, expressed a wish that she should +not accompany him to the convent; and she, still shaken with emotion, +had not insisted on doing so.</p> + +<p>As he was on the point of stepping into the street, a sister came up to +him.</p> + +<p>"You are Monsieur Jérôme Fandor?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sister."</p> + +<p>"Our Mother Superior wishes to speak to you."</p> + +<p>Our journalist bowed acquiescence.</p> + +<p>Some minutes later, the Mother Superior joined him in the large parlour.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur," she began, "I must apologise for having sent for you, but I +wished to have a necessary talk with you."</p> + +<p>Fandor interrupted the saintly nun.</p> + +<p>"And I must apologise, reverend Mother, for not having come to pay my +respects to you before leaving. Had I not been much troubled, I should +never have dreamt of leaving without thanking you for the help you have +been good enough to give me."</p> + +<p>The nun looked at him questioningly. Fandor continued:</p> + +<p>"In agreeing to receive Mademoiselle Elizabeth Dollon as a boarder, you +have done a deed of true charity: this poor girl is so unhappy, so +tried, so unfortunate, that I really do not know where she could have +found a better refuge than in this convent under your sheltering +care.... I ..."</p> + +<p>But the nun would not allow Fandor to continue.</p> + +<p>"It is precisely about Mademoiselle Dollon that I wish to speak to +you.... Of course, I should be glad to help and comfort one suffering +from a real misfortune; but I must confess, that when Mademoiselle +Dollon presented herself here as a boarder, I was ignorant of the exact +nature of the scandal in which she is involved."</p> + +<p>Fandor was taken aback at the harsh tone of the nun's speech.</p> + +<p>"Good Heavens, madame, what do you mean to insinuate?"</p> + +<p>"I have just been informed, monsieur, of the exact nature of the +relations which existed between the criminal, Jacques Dollon, and Madame +de Vibray."</p> + +<p>Fandor stiffened with indignation.</p> + +<p>"It is false!" he cried. "Utterly false! You have been misinformed!"</p> + +<p>He stopped short. The nun signified by a movement of her hand that +further protests were useless.</p> + +<p>"In any case, whether false or not, it is quite certain that we cannot +keep this girl here any longer, for her name will, in the end, do harm +to the respectability of this house."</p> + +<p>Fandor was astounded at this extraordinary statement.</p> + +<p>"In other words," said he, "you refuse to keep Mademoiselle here any +longer as a boarder?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, monsieur!"</p> + +<p>The journalist moved a step or two, then, with bent head, seemed to be +turning something over in his mind.</p> + +<p>"It comes to this, madame, you are not giving me your true reasons +for ..."</p> + +<p>Again the nun interrupted the young man with a gesture.</p> + +<p>"True, monsieur, I should have preferred not to mention my real and very +definite reasons which make it an imperative duty that I should request +Mademoiselle Dollon to seek another refuge. Nevertheless, since you +insist, I will tell you that Mademoiselle Dollon's attitude just +now—her behaviour—is what we cannot possibly allow...."</p> + +<p>"Good Heavens! What do you wish to insinuate now, madame?"</p> + +<p>"You kissed her, monsieur. I regret that you have forced me to go into +details. I regret that you have compelled me to put into words this—I +will not allow you to turn this religious house into a lover's meeting +place! Am I clear?"</p> + +<p>Before Fandor had time to protest, the nun gave him a curt bow, and +prepared to leave him.</p> + +<p>The young journalist recalled her. He was angry; all the more so, +because he knew that the Mother Superior had some justification for the +attitude she had taken up. Alas! All his protestations were vain!</p> + +<p>"Very well, madame," he said at last. "You are utterly mistaken; but I +recognise that your attitude has some colour of justification, and I bow +to your decision, based on misinformation and a mistake though it be. +Kindly allow me two days' grace, that I may find another refuge for +Mademoiselle Dollon!"</p> + +<p>With a movement of her head the nun signified her assent; then, with a +final bow, she left the parlour.</p> + +<p>Crestfallen, but full of angry resolve, Jérôme Fandor turned his back on +the convent.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XV" id="XV"></a>XV</h2> + +<h3>VAGUE SUSPICIONS</h3> + + +<p>Fandor was talking to himself—an inveterate habit of his—as he sat in +the cab which was carrying him to the Palais de Justice.</p> + +<p>"Beyond question, I ought to have examined that paper they have stolen +from Mademoiselle Elizabeth. I should have looked through it at the +first opportunity. That sequence of names; those dates, which seem to +almost coincide with the different criminal attempts, probably relate to +the mysterious plan which the assassins are carrying out +systematically.... But, that means there are to be more victims, and we +shall witness fresh tragedies!... I am not at all easy about Elizabeth +either!... Who the deuce could have telephoned to her at the convent?... +Perhaps what I am going to do is stupid, but no chance must be +neglected.... I wonder if I shall learn anything worth knowing at the +court to-day?...</p> + +<p>"When they arrested these smugglers, five months ago, I recollect +perfectly that Monsieur Thomery's name was mentioned in connection with +the business.... If I only held the connecting link of interest in my +hands, which would make it clear why all these people—Jacques Dollon, +the Baroness de Vibray, Princess Sonia Danidoff, Barbey-Nanteuil, and +even Elizabeth Dollon—have been the victims of the horrible band I am +pursuing.... The motive? Evidently robbery! But there must be some other +reason, for—and it is a significant fact—all these people know one +another, meet one another, or at least are either clients of the +Barbey-Nanteuil bank, or are friends of Monsieur Thomery.... It's the +devil's own mystery!"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Jérôme Fandor had arrived at the Palais de Justice. He crossed the great +hall des Pas-Perdus and entered the Assize Court.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The trial of the Cooper and his accomplices was a small affair, and had +not attracted many listeners, for these smuggling and coining cases were +apt to be dull. As a matter of fact, there would not have been a soul +present, if the accused had not had the most popular of counsels to +defend them—Maître Henri Robart!</p> + +<p>Fandor joined a group who were on familiar terms evidently, and, +although he had not seen her for many a day, he at once recognised +Mother Toulouche by her remarkable appearance and grotesque get up. He +had had so many other irons in the fire, that he had not followed this +smuggling case at all closely: he was surprised, therefore, to see +Mother Toulouche in the little passage adjoining the court, for he had +the impression that the old receiver of stolen goods had been under lock +and key for some weeks.... She was now being interviewed by one of his +colleagues. Fandor went up to them.</p> + +<p>Though she had not been accused of anything so far, the old storekeeper +was vehemently protesting her innocence.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she declared to her interviewer, "it is abominable, when such +things are discovered all of a sudden!"</p> + +<p>Mother Toulouche went on to explain that on Clock Quay she rented a +small shop for the sale of curiosities: that she was an honest woman, +who had never wronged a soul by as much as a farthing: all she asked was +to be left in peace to earn a decent living, so that she could retire +from business some day or other.... Everyone had a right to ask as much +as that!... Her store consisted of two rooms and an underground cellar, +in which she had put a quantity of old odds and ends, when she had moved +to her present abode.... She never descended to this cellar, never at +all: she was far too much afraid of rats to venture down there! Not she! +But, one day, if you please, when she was quietly engaged in mending +some old clothes, the police had suddenly burst into her store!... And +they had accused her of receiving smuggled goods and false money, and +she didn't know what more besides!...</p> + +<p>The police, not content with this, had made her go down to the cellar to +find out whether or no there were such things in the second cellar +belonging to her store!... Who had been most surprised then? Why who but +Mother Toulouche, who, until that very minute, had not known that this +second cellar existed! How then was she to know that it communicated +with the sewer, still less that the sewer opened on to the Seine, and +that by the Seine arrived bales of smuggled goods, which were concealed +in her cellar by the smugglers?... Fortunately, the judges had +understood this, and after twenty-four hours' detention on suspicion, +Mother Toulouche had been set at liberty!</p> + +<p>At first, she had declared that she did not know the accused persons +summoned to appear that day, the Cooper in particular; to tell the +truth, she had made a mistake; she did know them, through having met +them a long time ago, when she lived near la Capelle; so long ago was it +that she had forgotten all about it! Anyhow, she wanted to have done +with the business!</p> + +<p>From the very beginning of the trial, Mother Toulouche had been +disagreeably struck by the inquisitorial glances and pointed questions +of the Public Prosecutor throughout the proceedings. Now, in her turn, +the old storekeeper was questioning her audience, trying hard to find +out what would be the probable attitude of the magistrate, when she +herself should be summoned to the witness-box.</p> + +<p>"Witness!... Mother Toulouche!"</p> + +<p>Fandor smiled as he listened to the loquacious old storekeeper, +for he knew how much faith was to be put in her veracity and +respectability!... It was pretty clear that she was every whit as guilty +as the handcuffed individuals now in the dock. As she had not been +arrested, it simply meant that, in Juve's opinion, this was not an +opportune moment to put a stopper on the nefarious activities of this +bad old woman.</p> + +<p>At this precise moment, Fandor recognised Juve. He was leaving a group +of barristers and officials, who had been hugely entertained by his +stupid answers and remarks. Yes, it was Juve, so admirably made up and +disguised that Fandor had difficulty in recognising him. Here was +Cranajour on the scene! He approached Mother Toulouche and stood +there—a Cranajour who was the picture of gaping imbecility!</p> + +<p>"You, too?" cried Mother Toulouche, looking askance at him. "Are you one +of the witnesses?"</p> + +<p>Cranajour's reply was a comical grimace. He scratched his beard, +remarking finally:</p> + +<p>"I have forgotten! I don't know!"</p> + +<p>His audience burst into roars of laughter: Fandor laughed loudest of +all!</p> + +<p>One of Maître Henri Robart's juniors whispered in Fandor's ear, with an +air of giving the journalist a piece of information worth having.</p> + +<p>"A simple-minded soul, that!—a kind of idiot! You can guess that, at +the preliminary inquiry, they soon found that out!... He may be +heard—or he may not?"</p> + +<p>Fandor nodded. He found it difficult not to laugh.</p> + +<p>"Thanks many for the information," he stammered. The young barrister did +not understand the ironical tone of our journalist.</p> + +<p>Mother Toulouche was envying Cranajour.</p> + +<p>"You're in luck, you are—to be too silly to go and talk to those +inquisitive fellows in there! Eh?"</p> + +<p>Conversations stopped. The little low door, giving entrance to the +court, had just opened: an usher announced:</p> + +<p>"The case is resumed!... Witnesses this way!... The woman Toulouche?... +It is your turn!..."</p> + +<p>They jostled and pushed their way through the narrow entrance in order +to get into the court room quickly.</p> + +<p>Fandor, however, instead of following the crowd, had grasped the simple +Cranajour by the shoulder, and shouted loud enough to be heard by those +who might have been surprised at his action.</p> + +<p>"You duffer of a Cranajour! Go along with you! You're the man for my +money, old fellow! Here's something for a glass—but come with me for +five minutes: I want to interview you and make a jolly good article out +of it!"</p> + +<p>Fandor went off, followed by the detective. When they were quite away +from everyone, Fandor turned quickly to his friend.</p> + +<p>"Well, Juve?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing, so far...."</p> + +<p>"You have not run in the whole gang?"</p> + +<p>"Not I!" replied Juve. "These are only the supernumeraries, and there +are some of them out of my reach!... Look here, Fandor," continued Juve +in a low tone. "You will see someone in court presently whose presence +will astonish you—it is an aviator—the aviator Emilet.... Well, my +boy, I have a notion that this fellow is no stranger to all these +goings-on!... But patience!... besides, you know, Fandor, it's not my +way of doing things to put the bracelets on mediocrities such as he: I +fly higher!... Good-bye. Shall see you later on!"</p> + +<p>Fandor asked, in a low tone:</p> + +<p>"Shall I remain for the sitting?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Juve. "It is quite likely that I shall not be present; and +it would be a good thing if you were to get a general idea of this +affair: you may pick up some useful information."</p> + +<p>"Juve, I very much wish to have a longer talk with you—there are things +I want to say—to tell you!"</p> + +<p>Steps could be heard coming in their direction: the two men separated at +once; but Juve had just time to say:</p> + +<p>"This evening then, at eight, I shall come to your place, Fandor. Expect +me!"</p> + +<p>Half an hour later, Fandor entered the court room....</p> + +<p>The speech for the Crown had just been concluded.</p> + +<p>The arrest of these smugglers, now on their trial, had made some stir, +about five months ago. Public opinion had been aroused almost to fever +pitch, when it became known that the accused had, for nearly two years +past, succeeded in getting through into Paris, without having paid town +dues, quantities of the most highly taxed articles, and thus had +accumulated a large store of riches in contraband goods and money. They +owed their arrest to the betrayal of a wretched dealer, who was +dissatisfied with his remuneration.</p> + +<p>The journalists had, after their manner, amplified all the details, had +exaggerated the realities, and had given a romantic colouring to the +various incidents in the varied lives and adventures of this daring band +of smugglers.</p> + +<p>They had been represented as perfect gentlemen, who had formed +themselves into a marvellously organised Black Band, led by a chief +having right of life or death over them: a band fertile in tricks and +extraordinary stratagems, who massed their plunder in immense vaults and +cellars under the very heart of Paris, in the Isle of the Cité, and +communicating with the river, which, under the eyes of the police, +served to bear the barges laden with their booty.</p> + +<p>Cellars and vaults in the Isle of the Cité!</p> + +<p>"Well," thought Fandor, "men organised into such a powerful association +in this part of Paris might well put one on the track of strange +discoveries regarding the mysterious events connected with the Jacques +Dollon affair!"</p> + +<p>Then, having spoken to his colleagues on the press, Fandor turned in the +direction of the jury and set himself to follow attentively Maître Henri +Robart's speech for the defence.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XVI" id="XVI"></a>XVI</h2> + +<h3>DISCUSSIONS</h3> + + +<p>The portress rang up Fandor on the telephone.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur Fandor! There is a stout little lady down here! She wants to +see you! Should I let her go up?"</p> + +<p>Fandor's first impulse was to say "no." He glanced at the timepiece: it +was exactly two minutes past eight and Juve might be here at any minute. +He was sure to keep his appointment.</p> + +<p>After an instant's hesitation, Fandor decided on a "yes." He called down +to the portress:</p> + +<p>"Let her come up!"</p> + +<p>Fandor had an idea: perhaps this person knew something about the +appointment made that afternoon at the Palais de Justice! It would be +well to find out the why and wherefore of this call. In any case, it was +best for a journalist to see all comers, if possible.</p> + +<p>There was a discreet ring, announcing that the stout little lady had +already mounted the five flights of stairs and was now on Fandor's +landing.</p> + +<p>Our journalist went to open the door, standing well back in the shadow, +so that his visitor might show herself first, as she passed into the +little hall.</p> + +<p>Yes, she was certainly stout, short, and also elderly. She wore a bonnet +with strings, perched on a thick crop of grey curls, yellowish at the +tips. This elderly dame wore glasses; she was wrapped in a large brown +shawl, and she supported herself, as she walked, with a crook-handled +stick.</p> + +<p>Whilst the puzzled Fandor closed his front door, the visitor made +straight for the little sitting-room, where our journalist usually sat, +surrounded by his books and papers.</p> + +<p>"Ah, she seems to know my flat!" thought Fandor. The next moment he +jumped back; for, no sooner had the visitor got well into the room, than +she straightened her bent back, threw off her shawl, and dropped her +stick! Then, tearing off her grey curls and her spectacles, the visitor +revealed herself as—Juve!</p> + +<p>Fandor burst out laughing.</p> + +<p>"Juve! Well, I never!"</p> + +<p>"It's Juve, all right, my boy!" cried the smiling detective, as he rid +himself of the feminine get-up which impeded his movements. "I was +pleased to see, my lad, that you did not suspect my identity until I had +thrown off this second-hand wardrobe I bulked myself out with!"</p> + +<p>"Oh!" cried Fandor, "that's only because I hardly looked at you. If I +had, Juve, you may be sure I should have recognised you!"</p> + +<p>"Possibly! But what do you think of the disguise?"</p> + +<p>"Not so bad, Juve; but why did you change your sex this evening?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, for the fun of it, and to keep my hand in ... besides, the more +precautions we take when we meet, the better. Admit for a moment that +our enemies are keeping a watch on you here: what will they recollect +about your doings this evening? Why, that Fandor, the journalist, had a +call from a lady, and that she did not leave in a hurry either!"</p> + +<p>"Hang it all! I've no objection to a Don Juan reputation, but I may say, +without offence, that, as a woman, there's nothing particularly +attractive about you, Juve, in the garb you've just discarded!"</p> + +<p>"Bah!" replied Juve. "You mustn't be so particular, my dear boy—as if +dress mattered—or appearance either!"</p> + +<p>Juve was lighting a cigarette as he walked about the room, examining the +books and other objects with which Fandor had surrounded himself.</p> + +<p>"A charming home!" murmured the detective....</p> + +<p>Then, he inspected the contents of a little show-case, in which Fandor +had collected what he called his "Circumstantial Evidence"; in other +words, various objects relating to cases he had been engaged on, such as +scraps of clothing, blood-stained weapons, broken locks: these records +of crimes, new and old, were carefully labelled. Juve began questioning +Fandor about these sinister relics. Five minutes of jokes and laughter, +then Fandor became serious. He drew his friend to a corner settee.</p> + +<p>"Juve," said he, in an impressive tone, "I have found the connecting +link!"</p> + +<p>"By Jove! You have, have you!" cried Juve in a bantering tone, and with +a quizzical look. "Let us see it!... Explain!..."</p> + +<p>Regardless of his friend's scepticism, Fandor proceeded to expound his +theory.</p> + +<p>"I did as you suggested. I was present at the trial of the smugglers: I +listened to Counsel's speech for the defence, but judged it useless to +stay to the end. When Maître Henri Robart began a disquisition on the +facts, I left. Here is what I have noted:</p> + +<p>"Someone owns a house in the Isle of the Cité; a house which is a +meeting place for receivers of stolen goods, ruffians, robbers, and +vagabonds: a house possessing underground cellars of no ordinary kind. +Now, this Someone never mentions this strange house of his, though he +must be aware of its existence; then this Someone knows intimately +several, at least, of the people more or less involved in the Jacques +Dollon affair, and—one may boldly assert it—the Dollon plot was +hatched in a cellar, in a sewer of the Cité.</p> + +<p>"One of two things!...</p> + +<p>"Either this personage is timorous, is afraid of being compromised, +and does not consider in what an awkward position this coincidence +places him—if that be so, he is a singularly thick-headed +individual—or—well—Monsieur Thomery ... you are the most rascally +scoundrel it has been my lot to admire, up to now! But I assure you, we +know how to get even with you! From the moment we have established, in +the first place, a connection between all these affairs—that they +indubitably hang together; secondly, that you, Monsieur Thomery, are the +connecting link...."</p> + +<p>"No," interrupted Juve, sharply....</p> + +<p>"What is that you say?..."</p> + +<p>"I say—<i>no</i>."</p> + +<p>"What?" cried Fandor, taken aback. He stared at Juve, who continued to +smoke his cigarette, unmoved. But Fandor was obstinately set on stating +his point of view.</p> + +<p>"The primary cause of the Dollon affair seems to be the suicide +of the Baroness de Vibray, a suicide probably owing to a love +disappointment—the old lady had been forsaken by her lover—Monsieur +Thomery!..."</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>Juve's denial slightly annoyed Fandor, but did not stop him.</p> + +<p>"I ask: was the man who robbed Sonia Danidoff one of the guests? It is +very unlikely; for, not only were the clothes of all those present +searched, but all Thomery's guests were known, well known!..."</p> + +<p>"No!"</p> + +<p>Fandor bit his lip.</p> + +<p>"It's true, Juve! You were there yourself, and no one penetrated your +disguise, and discovered who you really were! My last argument is, +therefore, worthless ... but I fancy your attitude, your way of +receiving my deductions, hides something. Have you got new information! +Fresh facts to go on? You know who stole the jewels?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"Good Heavens! How aggravating you are, Juve!... But this time you will +simply have to agree with me! Listen!... When we first met, after our +long separation, you admitted that one thing bothered you—the ease with +which your nefarious band of villains of the Isle of the Cité were able +to get rid of considerable sums of false money; and you were trying to +find their market—by what means these wretches were able to rid +themselves of the coin; when, apparently, they were not acquainted with +any influential people in the business world, or in the circles of high +finance.... Well, I have discovered their channel of distribution—it is +none other than the proprietor of this house properly, the ground floor +and basement of which are occupied by Mother Toulouche—obviously, it is +Thomery!..."</p> + +<p>"No!"</p> + +<p>Fandor lifted hands to heaven in despairing fashion and sat silent. He +was deeply mortified. There was a long pause, during which Juve calmly +smoked on. At last, Fandor asked in a hopeless sort of tone:</p> + +<p>"Well?... What do you think?"</p> + +<p>Slowly, as if awakening from a dream, Juve began to speak.</p> + +<p>"We know nothing for certain so far, my lad, except that the Baroness de +Vibray has committed suicide; that Princess Sonia Danidoff has recovered +from the shock of her jewel robbery, and is to marry Thomery next month +... there is nothing extraordinary in that ... just as there is, +perhaps, nothing surprising or extraordinary in the series of robberies, +nor even in the crimes occupying our attention at the present moment!"</p> + +<p>Fandor jumped up. "Nothing!" he shouted. "You are joking, Juve! It is +absurd what you say! Do just think a minute, my dear fellow! Why, all +these affairs are closely connected, from the Jacques Dollon affair, up +to ... up to ..."</p> + +<p>Fandor stopped short. Juve, who had been listening to him with seeming +inattention, now appeared wholly anxious to hear the end of the +sentence: he stared hard at Fandor.</p> + +<p>"Go on! Go on! I want to make you say it!..."</p> + +<p>And Fandor, as though in spite of himself, finished with:</p> + +<p>"Up to Fantômas!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, at last we have got it!" cried Juve.</p> + +<p>The two men gazed at each other; once more the logic of deductions, the +chain of circumstances had inevitably led him to pronounce the name of +the formidable bandit, of whom they could not think without a shudder; +whose memory they could not evoke without immediately feeling themselves +surrounded by sinister gloom, lost in a thick fog of mystery, of what +was strange, hidden, occult!</p> + +<p>Fandor's countenance cleared suddenly as he gave utterance to the idea +which had just crossed his mind.</p> + +<p>"Juve, do you not think that this mysterious prison warder, called +Nibet, might very well be an incarnation of Fantômas, because in so many +circumstances ..."</p> + +<p>Juve interrupted Fandor with a gesture of denial.</p> + +<p>"No, old fellow," said he gravely. "Don't start on that trail, it is +assuredly a bad one: Nibet is not Fantômas. Nibet does not count for +much, one might say, for nothing at all; he can scarcely be called a +tiny wheel even in the great machine driven on its diabolical course by +our fiendish enemy ... we must look higher than that!"</p> + +<p>"Thomery?" insisted Fandor, who still held to his idea, and was +determined to turn Juve to his way of thinking....</p> + +<p>But Juve still said "no!" to that.</p> + +<p>"Let us drop Thomery, my lad! As to Fantômas, how do you think we can +identify him in this haphazard fashion, basing our idea on pure +supposition? ... For, who is Fantômas—the real Fantômas, among so many +probable Fantômas?</p> + +<p>"Can you tell me that, Fandor?" continued Juve, who was getting excited +at last.... "I grant you that we have seen, in the course of our +chequered existence, an old gentleman, like Etienne Rambert, a thickset +Englishman like Gurn, a robust fellow like Loupart, a weak and sickly +individual like Chaleck. We have identified each one of them, in turn, +as Fantômas—and that is all.</p> + +<p>"As for seeing Fantômas himself, just as he is, without artificial aid, +without paint and powder, without a false beard, without a wig, Fantômas +as his face really is under his hooded mask of black—that we have not +yet done. It is that fact which makes our hunt for the villain +ceaselessly difficult, often dangerous!... Fantômas is always someone, +sometimes two persons, never himself!"</p> + +<p>Juve, once started on this subject, could go on for ever, and Fandor did +not try to stop him: when the course of conversation led them to talk of +Fantômas the two men were as though hypnotised by this mysterious +creature, so well named, for he was really "Fantômatic," a spectral +entity: the two friends could not turn their minds to any other subject. +They discussed Fantômas up and down, in and out, and round about!...</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>It was getting on towards one o'clock when Fandor saw Juve off as far as +the staircase. The detective had resumed his disguise, but neither man +was in a joking mood now. Fandor had given Juve an account of the +annoying, yet rather absurd incident at the convent, when he and +Elizabeth were unsuspectingly bidding each other a passionate farewell +under the watchful and scandalised eye of a nun! Fandor had thought it +better to take Juve into his confidence on the point, though it went +against the grain, for he was bashful with regard to his feelings.</p> + +<p>Juve had openly laughed at first, but when he understood that Elizabeth, +requested to leave the convent, would again be without a safe shelter, +he became serious, reflected for a minute or two, then gave his dear lad +a piece of advice, advice which Fandor had seemingly taken objection to, +and had finished by agreeing to....</p> + +<p>They parted with these words:</p> + +<p>"The more you think it over, dear lad, the better you will like my +idea," said Juve.</p> + +<p>Fandor had not said "No" to it!</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XVII" id="XVII"></a>XVII</h2> + +<h3>AN ARREST</h3> + + +<p>The day after his memorable talk with Juve, Fandor was summoned to +appear before the police magistrate, because he could give evidence +regarding the rue Raffet affair, and had saved Elizabeth Dollon's life.</p> + +<p>It was about four in the afternoon, and he had just entered the passage +leading to the offices so familiar to him, when he met Elizabeth. Behind +her came several persons whom he recognised: among them were the +Barbey-Nanteuil partners, Madame Bourrat, and the servant, Jules. They +were together and were talking. The moment she saw him, Elizabeth went +up to him.</p> + +<p>"Ah, monsieur!" she cried, with a reproachful look. "We had given up all +hope of seeing you.... Just imagine, the magistrate has finished his +enquiry already! Twice he asked if you had come!"</p> + +<p>Fandor seemed surprised.</p> + +<p>"The summons was for four this afternoon, was it not?" he asked, taking +from his pocket the summoning letter. A glance showed that he was not +mistaken: he gave Elizabeth the letter to read. She smiled.</p> + +<p>"You were summoned for four o'clock, I see; but we had to appear +earlier: I was examined as soon as I arrived, and I was summoned to +appear at half-past two."</p> + +<p>Fandor was annoyed with himself: he might have guessed it! He was vexed +because he had not been on the watch in the passage whilst this +examination was proceeding. He was moving towards Monsieur Fuselier's +room, the magistrate in charge of the Auteuil affair, and he must have +looked his vexation, for Elizabeth said:</p> + +<p>"I am a little to blame, perhaps, that you had not due notice, but what +could I do! Yesterday evening when you telephoned to the convent to ask +for news of me, I was just going to tell you at what time I was +summoned, but when I went to the telephone...."</p> + +<p>"What's this you are telling me?" asked Fandor, staring hard at +Elizabeth. "I never telephoned to you yesterday evening. Who told you I +had been asking for you on the telephone?"</p> + +<p>"Nobody said so; but I supposed it was you! Who else would be so kindly +interested in my doings?"</p> + +<p>Fandor made no reply to this. Here was the telephone mystery again—an +alarming mystery. Elizabeth had not given her address to anyone: Fandor +had been careful not to give it to a soul.... Clearly, this poor girl, +even in the heart of this peaceful convent, was not secure from some +unknown, outside interference; and Fandor, optimist though he was, could +not help shuddering at the thought of these mysterious adversaries, +implacable and formidable, who might work harm to this unfortunate girl, +whose devoted protector he now was.... Besides ... did he not feel for +Jacques Dollon's pretty sister something sweeter and more tender than +pure sympathy?... Whenever he was near her, did he not experience a +thrill of emotion? Fandor did not analyse his feelings, but they +influenced him unconsciously.</p> + +<p>He turned to Elizabeth.</p> + +<p>"Since you cannot remain any longer at the convent, where do you think +of staying?"</p> + +<p>"Well, monsieur, I shall go back to the convent this evening, though it +is painful to me—very, very painful—to be obliged to accept their icy +hospitality ... as for to-morrow!"</p> + +<p>Fandor was about to make a suggestion, when the door of Monsieur +Fuselier's room opened half-way. The magistrate's clerk appeared, and, +glancing round the passage over his spectacles, called, in a dull tone:</p> + +<p>"Monsieur Jérôme Fandor!"</p> + +<p>"Here!" replied our journalist. "I am coming!"</p> + +<p>Then, taking a hasty farewell of Elizabeth as he went towards the +magistrate's room, he whispered:</p> + +<p>"Wait for me, mademoiselle; and, for the love of Heaven, remember +this—whatever I may say, whatever happens, whether we are alone, +together, or in the presence of others, whether it be in a few minutes, +or later on, do not be astonished at what may befall you, even though it +be my fault—be absolutely convinced of this—whatever I may do will be +for your good—more than that I must not say!"</p> + +<p>Elizabeth had not a word to say, but his words were humming and buzzing +in her ears when Fandor was in the magistrate's room.</p> + +<p>With a cordial handshake, Monsieur Fuselier began by congratulating him +on having saved Elizabeth Dollon's life.</p> + +<p>"Ah," said he, smiling, "you journalists have all the luck; and, between +yourselves, I envy you a little, for your lucky star has led you to the +discovery of a drama, and has enabled you to prevent a fatal ending to +it. Now, do you not think, as I do, that this Auteuil affair is not a +case of suicide, but of attempted assassination?"</p> + +<p>"There is no doubt about it," replied Fandor quietly.</p> + +<p>The magistrate drew himself up with a satisfied air.</p> + +<p>"That is also my opinion—has been so from the start."</p> + +<p>The clerk now interrupted the two men, who were talking as friends +rather than as magistrate and witness, asking, in nasal tone:</p> + +<p>"Does His Honour wish to take the evidence of Monsieur Jérôme Fandor?"</p> + +<p>"In four lines then. I do not think Monsieur Fandor has anything more to +tell us than what he has already told us in the columns of <i>La +Capitale</i>. That is so, is it not?" asked the magistrate, looking at +Fandor.</p> + +<p>"That is correct," replied our journalist.</p> + +<p>The clerk rapidly drew up the deposition of Monsieur Jérôme Fandor, in +due form, and read it aloud in a monotonous voice.</p> + +<p>Fandor signed it. It did not compromise him at all. He was about to +leave when Monsieur Fuselier caught him by the arm.</p> + +<p>"Please wait a minute! There are one or two points to be cleared up: I +am going to ask the witnesses a few questions: we will have a general +confrontation—we will compare evidence!"</p> + +<p>Then, the journalist's friend, now all the magistrate, asked the +assembled witnesses certain questions, in an emphatic and professional +tone.</p> + +<p>Fandor, seated a little apart, had leisure to examine the faces of the +different persons whom circumstances had brought together in this room.</p> + +<p>His first look was for Elizabeth: energy and courage were plainly marked +on her pretty, sad face. Then there was the proprietor of the Auteuil +boarding-house: an honest, vulgar creature, red-faced, perpetually +mopping her brow and raising her hands to heaven; ready to bewail her +position, deploring the untimely publicity given to this affair, a +publicity which threatened discredit to her boarding-house.</p> + +<p>As he was seated directly behind the manservant, Jules, Fandor had a +view of his broad back, surmounted by a big bullet head and ruffled +hair. This witness spoke with a strong Picardy accent, and there was +nothing remarkable about his answers: he seemed the conventional +second-rate type of servant. He did not seem to have understood much of +what occurred on the famous day: when questioned as to the order of +events, his answers were vague, uncertain.</p> + +<p>Then, seated beside Fandor were the bankers: Barbey, a grave-looking +man, no longer young, judging by his beard, which was going grey; he was +decorated with the Legion of Honour: the other, Nanteuil, looked about +thirty, elegant, distinguished, lively. These two were well known in the +highest Parisian society as representing finance of the best kind. They +were highly thought of.</p> + +<p>The magistrate asked the bankers a question.</p> + +<p>"Why," asked he, "did Messieurs Barbey-Nanteuil call on Mademoiselle +Dollon? Was it to bring her some help, as has been stated?"</p> + +<p>Elizabeth blushed with humiliation at the magistrate's question. +Monsieur Nanteuil answered:</p> + +<p>"There is a slight distinction to be made, your Honour, and Mademoiselle +Dollon certainly will not object to our mentioning it. It never entered +our minds to offer Mademoiselle Dollon charity—charity she never asked +of us, be it clearly understood. Mademoiselle Dollon, with whom we had +previously been acquainted, whose misfortunes have inspired us with deep +sympathy, wrote to ask us if we could find her some employment. Hoping +to find some post for her, we came to see her, to talk with her, to find +out what her capabilities were. That is all. We were very glad it so +happened, that we were able to aid Monsieur Fandor in restoring her to +life."</p> + +<p>"Can you tell me, Monsieur Fandor, did you notice anything suspicious in +Mademoiselle Dollon's room when you entered it? You wrote, in your +article, that at first you had thought it simply an attempted burglary, +followed by an attempted murder?"</p> + +<p>"That is so," replied Fandor. "Directly the window was opened, I leaned +out: I wanted to see if there was anything suspicious on the wall of the +house. I also looked behind the shutters."</p> + +<p>"Why?" asked the examining magistrate.</p> + +<p>"Because I had not forgotten the close of the Thomery drama—the same +Monsieur Thomery mentioned in the Assize Court yesterday—oh, in all +honour, of course; but you have not forgotten—although that examination +was not in your hands, and I regret it, because I am of the opinion that +there are points of connection interlinking all these mysterious +affairs—you have not forgotten, I am sure, that when the investigations +were over and Monsieur Thomery's guests had been allowed to leave the +house, that a thread of flax was discovered hanging to the window +fastening of the room in which Princess Danidoff had been found +unconscious. This flax thread was very strong, and was broken at the +end: it is easy to conclude that the stolen pearls had been temporarily +fastened to it. This led me to think that the aggressor, or aggressors, +had remained in the reception rooms during the whole course of the +investigations, since it is proved that no one left the house....</p> + +<p>"... But, after all, we are not here to investigate the Thomery +affair.... I wished to explain why I had examined the window and +shutters Of Mademoiselle Dollon's room: I wanted to ascertain whether +the procedure of the would-be murderer of Mademoiselle Dollon was +similar to that of the robber in the Danidoff-Thomery case."</p> + +<p>"And what conclusion did you come to?" asked the magistrate.</p> + +<p>"Window and shutters bore no traces that I could see," said Fandor. "I +could not come to any conclusion."</p> + +<p>Here Monsieur Barbey intervened.</p> + +<p>"If I may be allowed to say so"—he glanced at the magistrate for the +required permission, which was given with a smile and gesture of +assent—"I quite agree with Monsieur Jérôme Fandor. I also am convinced +that, even if there is not a close connection between the Thomery affair +and the Auteuil affair, at least there exists such a connection between +the Auteuil affair and the terrible drama of rue Norvins."</p> + +<p>"I would go even further than that," declared Monsieur Nanteuil. "The +robbery of rue du Quatre Septembre, of which we are the victims, is also +connected with this same series of mysterious cases."</p> + +<p>The magistrate asked a question.</p> + +<p>"It is a matter of twenty millions, is it not? It must have been a +terrible blow to you?"</p> + +<p>"Fearful, monsieur," replied Monsieur Nanteuil. "Our credit was shaken: +it affected a considerable number of our clients, Monsieur Thomery +among them, and we consider him one of our most important clients. You +are aware, of course, that in financial matters confidence is almost +everything!... Our losses have just been covered by an insurance, but we +have suffered other than direct material losses. Still"—the banker +turned towards Elizabeth, who was wiping tears from her eyes—"still, +what are our troubles compared with those which have struck Mademoiselle +Dollon blow upon blow? Assassination of the Baroness de Vibray, +mysterious death——"</p> + +<p>"The Baroness de Vibray was not assassinated, she committed suicide," +interrupted Fandor sharply. "Most certainly, I do not wish to make you +responsible for that, gentlemen; but when you wrote, announcing her +ruin, you dealt her a very hard blow!"</p> + +<p>"Could we have done otherwise?" replied Monsieur Barbey, with his +customary gravity of manner and tone. "In our matter of fact business, +where all must be clear and definite, we do not mince our words: we are +bound to state things as they actually are. What is more, we do not +share your point of view, and are convinced that the Baroness de Vibray +was certainly murdered."</p> + +<p>Monsieur Fuselier now expressed his opinion, or at least, what he wished +to be considered as his opinion:</p> + +<p>"Gentlemen, consider yourselves for the moment as not in the presence of +the examining magistrate, but as being in the drawing-room of Monsieur +Fuselier. In my private capacity, I will give you my opinion regarding +the rue Norvins affair. I am decidedly less and less in agreement with +Monsieur Fandor, though I recognise with pleasure his fine detective +gifts."</p> + +<p>"Thanks," interrupted Fandor ironically. "That is a poor compliment!"</p> + +<p>Smiling, the magistrate continued:</p> + +<p>"I am of the same opinion as Messieurs Barbey-Nanteuil: I believe Madame +de Vibray was murdered."</p> + +<p>Fandor could not control his impatience.</p> + +<p>"Be logical, messieurs, I beg of you!" he cried. "The Baroness de +Vibray committed suicide. Her letter states her intention. The +authenticity of this letter has not been disputed. The disastrous +revelations, contained in Messieurs Barbey-Nanteuil's communication, +proved too severe a shock for the poor lady's unbalanced brain: the news +of her ruin, abruptly conveyed, drove her to desperation. The death of +the Baroness de Vibray was voluntary and self-inflicted."</p> + +<p>There was a dead silence. Then Monsieur Barbey asked a question.</p> + +<p>"Well, then, Monsieur Fandor, will you explain to us how it happened +that the Baroness de Vibray was found dead in the studio of the painter, +Jacques Dollon?"</p> + +<p>Fandor seemed to expect this question from the banker.</p> + +<p>"There are two hypotheses," he declared. "The first, and, in my humble +opinion, the more improbable, is this: Madame de Vibray at the same time +that she decided to put an end to her life, wished to pay her protégé a +last visit; all the more so, because he had asked her to come and see +his work before it was sent in to the Salon. Perhaps the Baroness +intended to perform an act of charity, in this instance, before her +supreme hour struck. Perhaps she miscalculated the effect of the poison +she had taken, and so died in the house of the friend she had come to +see and help: her death there could not have been her choice, for she +must have known what serious trouble it would involve the artist in, +were her dead body found in his studio.</p> + +<p>"Here is the second hypothesis, which seems the more plausible. The +Baroness de Vibray learns that she is ruined, she decides to die, and by +chance or coincidence, which remains to be explained, for I have not the +key to it yet, some third parties interested in her fate, learn her +decision. They let her write to her lawyer; they do not prevent her +poisoning herself; but, as soon as she is dead, they straightway take +possession of her dead body and hasten to carry it to Jacques Dollon's +studio. To the painter himself they administered either with his consent +or by force—probably by force—a powerful narcotic, so that when the +police are called in next day they not only find the Baroness lying dead +in the studio, but they also find the painter unconscious, close by his +visitor. When Jacques Dollon is restored to consciousness, he is quite +unable to give any sort of explanation of the tragedy; naturally enough, +the police look upon him as the murderer of her who was well known to +have been his patroness.... How does that strike you?"</p> + +<p>It was now Monsieur Fuselier's turn to hold forth.</p> + +<p>"You forget a detail which has its importance! I do not pretend to judge +as to whether she was poisoned by her own free act or not; but, in any +case, we have this proof—an uncorked phial of cyanide of potassium was +found in Jacques Dollon's studio. It seemed to have been recently +opened; but, when the painter was questioned about it, he declared that +he had not made use of this ingredient for a very long time."</p> + +<p>Fandor replied:</p> + +<p>"I can turn your argument against you, monsieur. If the Baroness de +Vibray had been poisoned, voluntarily or not, with the cyanide of +potassium in Dollon's studio, he would have taken the precaution to +banish all traces of the poison in question. It would have been his +first care! When questioned by the police inspector, he would not have +declared that he had not made use of this poison for a very long time! +the contradiction involved is proof that Dollon was sincere; therefore, +we are faced by a fact which, if not inexplicable, is, at least, +unexplained."</p> + +<p>Monsieur Barbey now had something to say:</p> + +<p>"You criticise and hair-split in a remarkable fashion, monsieur, and are +an adept in the science of induction; but, let me say without offence +meant, that you give me the impression of being rather a romancing +journalist than a judicial investigator!... Admitting that the Baroness +de Vibray was carried to the painter Dollon's studio after her death, +and that seems to be your opinion, what advantage would it be to the +criminals to act in such a fashion?"</p> + +<p>Jérôme Fandor had risen, his eyes shining, his body vibrating with +excitement.</p> + +<p>"I expected your question, monsieur," he cried; "and the answer is +simple. The mysterious criminals seized the Baroness de Vibray's body +and brought it to Dollon's studio to create an alibi, and to cast +suspicion on an innocent man. As you know, the stratagem was successful: +two hours after the discovery of the crime, the police arrested +Mademoiselle Dollon's unfortunate brother!"</p> + +<p>With a dramatic gesture Fandor pointed to Elizabeth, who, no longer able +to contain her grief, was weeping bitterly.</p> + +<p>The audience had risen, moved, troubled, subjugated, in spite of +themselves, by the journalist's eloquent and persuasive tones. Even +Monsieur Fuselier had quitted his classic green leather arm-chair and +had approached the two bankers: Madame Bourrat was behind them, and the +servant, Jules, with his smooth face and staring eyes.</p> + +<p>Fandor continued:</p> + +<p>"This is not all, messieurs!... There is still something that must be +said, and I beg of you to listen with all your attention, for what the +result of my declarations will be, I do not know! It is no longer my +reason that speaks, instinct dictates my words! Listen!..."</p> + +<p>It was a poignant moment! All the witnesses, the magistrate included, +were thrilled with the certainty that the journalist was about to make a +sensational revelation.</p> + +<p>Taking his time, Jérôme Fandor walked slowly, quietly up to Elizabeth +who, distraught with grief, was in floods of tears.</p> + +<p>"Mademoiselle," he said, in a clear level voice, which was in strange +contrast with his recent persuasive and authoritative tones. +"Mademoiselle, you must tell us everything!... You are here, not in the +presence of a judge, and of enemies, but amidst friends who wish you +nothing but good.... I understand your affectionate feelings, I know +what an unreasoning, but quite natural, attachment you have for your +unfortunate brother—but, mademoiselle, it is now imperatively necessary +that you should do violence to yourself—you must tell us the truth, the +whole truth!"</p> + +<p>Interrupting his appeal to Elizabeth, Fandor turned to the magistrate +with a smile so enigmatic that his audience could not tell whether he +was speaking sincerely or was acting a part.</p> + +<p>"I have contended in my articles up to now that Jacques Dollon was dead, +dead beyond recall; but when confronted with recent facts my theory +seems to fall to the ground." Fandor turned once more to Elizabeth, +resuming his authoritative tone and manner: "Since the affair of the +Dépôt, the legal authorities have recognised indelible traces of Jacques +Dollon's hand in the series of crimes which have been recently +perpetrated. Up to the present, I have determinedly denied such a +possibility. But, mademoiselle, I put it to you: you have forgotten to +tell us something of the very utmost importance, something quite out of +the range of ordinary happenings, something phenomenal. Now here is the +staggering fact I am faced with! The other day, between two and three in +the afternoon, at the Auteuil boarding-house where you are staying, you +received a visit from your brother, Jacques Dollon, the supposed robber +of the Princess Sonia Danidoff's pearls, the suspected author of the +robbery of rue du Quatre Septembre; and, lastly, the fratricide, for +what other explanation of the attack on you can be given—an attempted +murder beyond question—and I add ..." Fandor could not continue. His +eyes were fixed on those of Elizabeth who, at the first words addressed +to her by the journalist, had started up, trembling from head to +foot.... Their glances met, challenging, each seeking to quell, to +subjugate the other.... It seemed to the onlookers that they were +witnessing an intense struggle between two very strong natures separated +by a deep, a fathomless gulf; that a veil, dark as night, hanging +between them had been rent asunder, giving passage to an illuminating +flash; that this luminous ray carried with it all the revelations and +the key to the fantastic mystery!</p> + +<p>But to a calm, perspicacious observer of the two beings standing face to +face, it would have been clear that Jérôme Fandor's real attitude was +both suppliant and persuasive, and that Elizabeth Dollon's was one of +overwhelming surprise.</p> + +<p>Monsieur Fuselier, carried away by the journalist's startling and +extraordinary statements, did not perceive this. Suddenly, he saw in +Jérôme Fandor the denunciator, and in Elizabeth Dollon, the accomplice +unmasked. Nevertheless, he said quietly:</p> + +<p>"Monsieur Fandor, you have just uttered words of such gravity that you +are bound to confirm them by indisputable evidence. Do you mean to +persist on these lines?"</p> + +<p>Fandor looked away from the stupefied Elizabeth and her questioning +glance: he answered the magistrate at once.</p> + +<p>"The proof of what I advance, you will find by searching Mademoiselle +Dollon's room.... I would rather not say more than that...."</p> + +<p>"Allow me to state, monsieur, that I cannot arrange for such an +investigation until to-morrow morning!"</p> + +<p>Then, addressing the astounded Madame Bourrat, the two bankers, and the +manservant, Jules.</p> + +<p>"Madame, messieurs, will you be kind enough to withdraw? Madame, I +advise you, under pain of the most serious consequences, not to allow +anyone whatever to enter your premises, nor go into Mademoiselle +Dollon's room, before this matter has been fully sifted by the legal +authorities. Be good enough to wait in the passage—all of you!"</p> + +<p>Having witnessed their exit, the magistrate walked up to Fandor, and +looking him straight in the eyes said:</p> + +<p>"Well!... Out with it!"</p> + +<p>"Well," replied the journalist, "if you institute a search in the place +I have indicated, you will find, in the chest of drawers, under a pile +of Mademoiselle Dollon's personal linen a piece of soap wrapped up in a +cambric handkerchief. Take this soap to Monsieur Bertillon's department, +and after the scientific tests have been applied to it, you will be able +to say that it bears distinct impressions of Dollon's hand!"</p> + +<p>"Dollon's?"</p> + +<p>The magistrate gasped.</p> + +<p>Elizabeth Dollon had fallen back into the arm-chair, from which she had +risen all trembling. Her tears had ceased. She stared at the two men +with wide open, terrified eyes. All the time, the clerk in spectacles +wrote steadily on at his table, noting down the details of the scenes he +was witnessing.</p> + +<p>There was a palpitating silence.</p> + +<p>Monsieur Fuselier had returned to his writing table.</p> + +<p>Jérôme Fandor seemed to have recovered his composure, an ironic smile +curved his lips beneath his small moustache, whilst his hand sought that +of Elizabeth: it was the only way he could, at the moment, express the +sympathy he had never ceased to feel for her.</p> + +<p>Monsieur Fuselier filled in a printed paper and pressed an electric +bell.</p> + +<p>Two municipal guards appeared.</p> + +<p>Monsieur Fuselier rose and signing to the soldiers to wait, he faced +Elizabeth Dollon.</p> + +<p>"Mademoiselle, have you any objections to make to the statements of +Monsieur Jérôme Fandor? Will you say whether or no you received a visit +from your brother?"</p> + +<p>Elizabeth, tortured by intense emotion, her throat contracted, strove in +vain to pronounce a word; at last, by a supreme effort, she murmured in +a strangled voice:</p> + +<p>"Oh! Why, you are all mad here!"</p> + +<p>As she gave no direct reply to his question, Monsieur Fuselier, after a +pause, announced in a grave voice:</p> + +<p>"Mademoiselle! Until I have more ample information, I am under the cruel +necessity of ordering your arrest!... Guards, arrest the accused!" cried +the magistrate sternly.</p> + +<p>Elizabeth Dollon made a movement of revolt, when she saw herself +surrounded and felt her arms seized by the two representatives of +authority. She was about to cry out in protest, but a glance—it seemed +to her a tender glance—from Fandor restrained her.... She stood +speechless, inert. After all, had she not confidence in him, although +she could not understand his attitude! Had he not been her staunch +defender up to now? Had he not warned her that she must not be +astonished at anything that occurred—that she must be prepared for +anything?... Nevertheless, Elizabeth Dollon felt her brain reeling—she +was astounded beyond words.... The surprise was too strong for her....</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>About a quarter of an hour after this tragic scene, Fandor was pacing up +and down the asphalt of the boulevard du Palais, plunged in thought, +when someone clapped him on the shoulder. He turned. It was Monsieur +Fuselier.</p> + +<p>"Well, my dear fellow!" cried the magistrate, resuming his customary +tone of good fellowship. "Well, what an adventure! You have been playing +some fine tricks! I never expected such a stroke as that, the deuce if I +did!"</p> + +<p>"Ho, ho!" laughed Fandor, "I think that a week from to-day we shall know +a good many things!"</p> + +<p>"Well," replied the magistrate, "I have had the girl placed in solitary +confinement—that makes them willing to speak out!...."</p> + +<p>Fandor looked the magistrate up and down.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" murmured he, with a scarcely perceptible note of contempt in his +voice:</p> + +<p>"You think you will extract information from that quarter, do you?"</p> + +<p>"But why not? Why not?" interrupted the dapper Monsieur Fuselier, in a +sprightly tone; and, leaving Fandor abruptly, he leapt into a passing +tramcar.</p> + +<p>Fandor watched Fuselier cross the road and climb to an outside seat. +Whilst the magistrate waved a friendly farewell from the top of the +disappearing car, Fandor shrugged disdainful shoulders, and, with +pitying lips, muttered one word:</p> + +<p>"Fool!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XVIII" id="XVIII"></a>XVIII</h2> + +<h3>AT THE BOTTOM OF THE TRUNK</h3> + + +<p>After Monsieur Fuselier's departure, Fandor rejoined Madame Bourrat on +the boulevard. The good woman was very much upset by the dramatic scene +she had witnessed. She had sent off her manservant, and was preparing to +take the tram back to Auteuil. Fandor asked if he might accompany her, +and Madame Bourrat was only too delighted to have a chance of further +talk with the journalist, for she had a lively desire to learn all she +could about the extraordinary drama in which she found herself involved.</p> + +<p>When they arrived at Auteuil, Madame Bourrat had learned nothing +definite, for the journalist had given only evasive answers to her +questions. Still, one point was obvious: Madame Bourrat considered +Monsieur Jérôme Fandor as the most amiable man in the world, and she was +disposed to help him to the utmost of her powers, in defence of any +interests he wished to safeguard....</p> + +<p>Madame Bourrat was absolutely set on receiving Monsieur Fandor in her +private apartments. She then seized the opportunity to complain of the +trouble this affair had brought into her regular and peaceful existence. +Certainly, in summer, her boarders were less numerous; their numbers +being, in fact, reduced to two or three.</p> + +<p>This season there had been fewer than usual; but the accident, or +attempted assassination of Mademoiselle Dollon, had undoubtedly brought +discredit on the house. An old paralysed gentleman, who had been in +residence on the day of the drama, had departed the day after. There +was not a single boarder in the house: it was empty.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Having made certain that her manservant, Jules, and her cook, Marianne, +had retired to their respective rooms, Madame Bourrat conducted Fandor +as far as the door of her dwelling. They had been so interested in their +talk, that they had forgotten all about dinner: their experiences of the +past few hours had left them with little appetite. It was about nine +o'clock; night had fallen: house and garden were wrapped in a mantle of +darkness.</p> + +<p>"Can you find your way?" asked Madame Bourrat. If she accompanied the +journalist to her garden gate she would have to grope back to the house +in the dark, and alone! Her nerves were shaken by recent events. She did +not wish to venture forth and back in the mysterious gloom of night, +even on the familiar path of her garden. What might that darkness not +hide! What robbers, what murderers might there not be lurking near!</p> + +<p>Fandor laughed.</p> + +<p>"Why, of course I can, madame! To find the points of the compass, to +cultivate the sense of locality, is part of a journalist's profession."</p> + +<p>"Do not forget to draw to behind you—it needs a strong pull—the gate +which separates us from the street: once shut, no one can open it from +outside."</p> + +<p>Fandor, shaking hands with the boarding-house keeper, promised to close +the gate. As the sound of his steps on the gravel grew less and less, as +the gate fell to with a loud noise, and an absolute silence followed, +Madame Bourrat felt sure that her guest had left the garden—had gone +away.</p> + +<p>But he had done nothing of the sort!</p> + +<p>Fandor had shut the gate noiselessly, but he had remained inside the +grounds. He stood motionless, holding his breath, wishing neither to be +seen nor heard. He remained so for a long twenty minutes. Then, being +assured that Madame Bourrat had retired for the night—she had closed +her shutters and put out her light—he rubbed his hands, murmuring:</p> + +<p>"Now we shall see!"</p> + +<p>Stepping gingerly along by the side of the wall, he reached the main +building of the boarding-house: luckily, it was empty as far as boarders +were concerned. He recognised Elizabeth Dollon's window on the first +floor and was glad to see that it was half open. Chance favoured +him—there was even a gutter pipe running down the wall and passing +close to the window. Providence had favoured him with a fine staircase; +there would not be much difficulty in climbing that!</p> + +<p>No sooner thought than done! Accustomed as he was to exercise and games, +Fandor, agile as a young man in good training can be, squirmed up the +pipe as far as Elizabeth's window. He caught hold of the sill, recovered +his balance, jerked himself up, and, two seconds after, had landed in +the room.</p> + +<p>Dared he strike a light! He remembered pretty accurately the position of +the various pieces of furniture, but he would like to study the room +more in detail. His luck still held, for a ray of moonlight suddenly +shone out from behind a cloud. He saw the moon sailing in a clear sky. +There would be sufficient light from the moon rays to enable him to +pursue his investigations.</p> + +<p>It was an essentially modern room; the white walls were painted with +ripolin, and were as bare of ornament as a nun's cell. An iron bedstead +stood in the middle of the room: a wardrobe, with a mirror panel in +front, and locked, occupied one of the corners; behind a folding screen +was a toilette table, a Louis XV bureau, two chairs, an arm-chair: that +was all.</p> + +<p>After making this rapid inventory, Fandor considered:</p> + +<p>"The situation is growing complicated," said he to himself. "I am quite +persuaded that this room will shortly receive a visit from some +individuals who will not court recognition—their interests are all +against that—and they certainly will not be anxious to meet me here! +These individuals assuredly know, at this minute, that the examining +magistrate is going to make a thorough investigation here to-morrow +morning.... How do they know it? It's very simple. The prime mover in +the attempted murder, or one of his accomplices, was assuredly among the +witnesses this afternoon. Is it the amiable Madame Bourrat? Is it that +doltish Jules, who looks an absolute fool, but may be masking his game! +Suppose the serious Barbey pops up? Or the elegant Nanteuil? But I do +not think so—they are rather victims than attackers—everything leads +me to that opinion. But—all this does not tell me whether the place has +already been visited or not!"</p> + +<p>Fandor unlocked the drawer, searched for the piece of soap under the +pile of Elizabeth's linen, and had the extreme satisfaction of finding +the soap had not been moved.</p> + +<p>"Good! I am here first! Ah, we shall see our men presently! Which, and +how many?"</p> + +<p>Fandor seated himself and let his imagination work. He tried to picture +the faces of the mysterious individuals he was determined to track +down—but, so far, in vain!... Then with strange, uncanny persistence, +one face rose again and again before his mental vision, clear, +vital—the face of the enigmatic Thomery, with his silver white hair, +his red face, his light blue eyes, that Yankee head of his, well set on +his robust torso....</p> + +<p>"Thomery!" cried Fandor almost aloud. "The fact is, everything leads me +to think ... but don't let us anticipate! Concealment is the next item +on the programme!"</p> + +<p>Fandor realised that to hide under the bed was impossible: he would be +discovered immediately.... The screen was no better!... There was +Elizabeth's trunk!... Why, it was a kind of monument in wicker work! The +very thing! It was quite big enough to hold him—it was one of those +enormous trunks beloved of women!... To hide in it would be an +excellent trick—a real joke! Let me burrow in there, and see the +stupefaction of these estimable characters when they open it to rummage +about among Elizabeth's belongings and find themselves face to face with +me! They will see besides my sympathetic countenance the stern mouth of +my revolver!... Let us see whether it is a possible hiding place!</p> + +<p>Fandor raised the cover and lifted out a top compartment, in which were +scattered, among objects of feminine apparel, papers, books, and all +sorts of things which had evidently belonged to the unfortunate painter. +The distracted Elizabeth, in the hurry of departure from rue Norvins, +must have thrust them in pell-mell. The lower division of the trunk was +empty.</p> + +<p>"Another bit of luck!" thought Fandor. "Now to sample my little +hide-hole!"</p> + +<p>Fandor found he could get into a fairly comfortable position. Then he +calculated, that with the compartment back in its place and the cover +open, all he had to do to close it was to shake the trunk transversely. +He could certainly remain inside for several hours without intolerable +discomfort.</p> + +<p>Raising the cover, Fandor slipped out.</p> + +<p>The interminable hours crawled by. To smoke was out of the question. +Fandor's pride in his exploit was sinking to zero: was he passing a +wretched night to no purpose? A violent ring sounded. Someone was +ringing at the garden gate—ringing loudly, insistently—an imperative +summons!</p> + +<p>Instantly Fandor was on the alert. Useless to slip to the window and +peer cautiously out, for Elizabeth's window did not face the gate: even +by leaning out he could not catch any glimpse of any visitors, either +coming to the house or passing along towards Madame Bourrat's apartments +in the annex.... Besides, Fandor feared to make a noise, and the +polished boards of the floor cracked and creaked at the least movement!</p> + +<p>"The one thing for me to do," thought he, "is to creep back into my +retreat and wait. Now who can it be at this time of night?"</p> + +<p>Fandor's curiosity was rapidly satisfied—after a fashion! The call of +the bell had been answered by noises and hurried footsteps, whisperings, +an outburst of voices, then silence.... A few minutes after, Fandor +clearly heard some persons entering the ground floor of the house.</p> + +<p>He listened intently: he could hear his own heartbeats.</p> + +<p>Then a voice said:</p> + +<p>"In Heaven's name! Is it possible? Why do you come to upset people at +this time of night? As if we had not had enough to put up with during +the day! It is a dreadful business! There's no doubt about it! Are we +never to be left in peace?"</p> + +<p>"Why, it's Madame Bourrat's voice!" said Fandor. "Poor woman! What's +up?" He listened. Someone said:</p> + +<p>"The law is the law, madame, and we are it's humble executors. As the +examining judge has ordered me to make an investigating distraint, we +are compelled to carry out his instructions to the letter. Be good +enough to tell your servant to lead us to the actual spot where the +crime was attempted."</p> + +<p>"Now what is all this?" asked Fandor. "And from whence comes this police +inspector? It only wanted that! He won't know what to make of it when I +tell him who I am—and how am I to explain my presence here? Anyhow, +wait, and see what happens!"</p> + +<p>"Someone was coming upstairs—more than one!"</p> + +<p>"This way, messieurs!" said a hoarse voice. "The room the young lady +occupied is at the end of this passage!"</p> + +<p>"This time I recognise my fine fellow!" thought Fandor. "It is that +imbecile of a Jules. But what a triumphant tone! And how different his +voice sounds to what it did, this afternoon, at the examination!"</p> + +<p>Then Fandor all but jumped from his hiding place.</p> + +<p>"Oh! What an egregious fool I am! Why, there is not a police inspector +in France who would come at this hour to carry out an investigation—and +a distraint to boot! What the devil does it mean? Can they be the fine +fellows I am lying in wait to meet?"</p> + +<p>The dubious individuals who had roused the house at such an unholy hour +entered the room. Someone turned on the electric light.</p> + +<p>Though Fandor could obtain a sufficient supply of air through the +openings in the wickerwork, he could not see what was going on: he could +only listen with all his ears.</p> + +<p>Madame Bourrat accompanied her strange visitors.</p> + +<p>"It is here," she exclaimed, "that the journalist, Jérôme Fandor, found +my boarder stretched out on the floor.... You see, in this corner, is +the gas stove with its tubing! They have forgotten to refix it to the +pipe; but there is no danger, the tap is turned off and so is the +meter."</p> + +<p>The personage who had given out that he was a police inspector, whose +voice was probably an assumed one, replied only by monosyllables. Fandor +did not recognise his voice. But there was another speaker, who also had +very little to say for himself; and Fandor thought he recognised certain +tones as belonging to a man who had been much in his thoughts of late.</p> + +<p>"Thomery!" thought he. "Is it Thomery?"</p> + +<p>But he only knew the sugar refiner by sight, and had heard him speak but +once or twice at the ball: that was not enough to go on, for Fandor had +not paid special attention to the distinguishing tone and quality of his +host's voice. Nevertheless, he could not get out of his head the idea +that the celebrated sugar refiner, honoured by all Paris, esteemed by +everybody, was standing only a step or two away from him now in this +house of strange happenings, and under very peculiar circumstances. "Was +he a burglar—an assassin? One of a nefarious band?"</p> + +<p>For Fandor was now convinced that these were not police emissaries +bearing a legal mandate to search and distrain: no, they were robbers, +criminals! He was preparing to rise from his hiding place and appear +before the bandits: he would fire a few shots and make the deuce of a +row and rouse the neighbourhood. He would also save poor Madame Bourrat, +who was certainly not their accomplice. Just then he heard the pretended +police inspector say:</p> + +<p>"Will you provide us with writing materials, madame? We must write an +official report."</p> + +<p>"Why, certainly, monsieur," replied Madame Bourrat. "I will go +downstairs and get what you require."</p> + +<p>Fandor heard her leave the room. No sooner had she gone than a hurried +conversation began in low tones. Clearly Jules was guilty, for the +pretended police inspector asked:</p> + +<p>"No one this evening? Nothing happened?"</p> + +<p>"No," replied Jules in a servile tone. "The journalist brought the +mistress back and then went off at nine o'clock...."</p> + +<p>"No news of Alfred?" asked the voice.</p> + +<p>The third person answered:</p> + +<p>"Why, no. You know very well he is always at the Dépôt."</p> + +<p>"Let us set to work!" said voice number one.</p> + +<p>Fandor felt that the decisive moment had arrived: someone opened the +cover of the trunk and feverish hands were turning over the confused +mass of objects in the top compartment.</p> + +<p>"Didn't you find anything?" asked the voice of Jules.</p> + +<p>"No, no, monsieur! I searched everywhere; but as I do not read easily, +it's difficult for me...."</p> + +<p>"Imbecile!" murmured the voice.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" said Fandor to himself. "This fellow pleases me! He has the same +opinion of this dolt of a Jules as I have!"</p> + +<p>Revolver in hand, Fandor was on the alert. The moment they lifted up the +compartment out he would jump. Just then, Madame Bourrat could be heard +approaching.</p> + +<p>"Confound it! We shall not have time to go through everything!" +muttered a voice. The trunk cover was hastily closed.</p> + +<p>Fandor heard Madame Bourrat enter the room with slow, heavy step.</p> + +<p>"Here are ink and paper, messieurs!" she said.</p> + +<p>Then the pretended police inspector made a statement that startled the +concealed Fandor.</p> + +<p>"Madame, we have no time, nor are we able to make a minute investigation +now. Besides, with one exception, there does not seem to be anything +suspicious about the room; but here is a trunk which contains papers of +great importance. We are going to take it to the police station."</p> + +<p>"As you please," replied Madame Bourrat. "I ask only one thing and that +is to be left in peace. I do not want to hear anything more about this +abominable affair!"</p> + +<p>A rapid turn of the key given to each of the locks and Fandor knew that +he was now a prisoner! Brave as he was, he felt a rush of blood to his +heart and a cold sweat broke out on his forehead.</p> + +<p>"Dash it all! I am in an awful position! Impossible to move! If these +brutes suspected they had me tight in here they would pitch me into the +river as sure as Fate! Then good-bye to <i>La Capitale</i>!"</p> + +<p>Then, before Fandor's mental vision rose a sweet consoling figure, the +figure of the girl for whom he was braving danger, for love of whom—he +certainly did love her—he had placed himself in such a serious +position.... Then all that was optimistic in his nature—and that was +much—rose to the surface, and declared the dilemma was not as serious +as it seemed.... How could the bandits know of his presence in the +trunk? They never would think Jérôme Fandor so stupid as to shut himself +up in the trap!</p> + +<p>"Jules and I might shake hands as equals in folly!" concluded Fandor.... +Just then the trunk began to move. They were trying to lift it. Whilst +trying to preserve an unstable equilibrium, he said to himself in a +satisfied way:</p> + +<p>"And just to think now that they have not rummaged in the chest of +drawers, nor have they seized the tell-tale piece of soap!... It's true +that Fuselier alone knows of its being there—I was careful not to tell +anyone else.... But, where the deuce are they going? It's the stairs, of +course! It might be a rough precipice by the shaking up they're giving +me!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XIX" id="XIX"></a>XIX</h2> + +<h3>CRIMINAL OR VICTIM?</h3> + + +<p>At the bottom of his trunk Jérôme Fandor was foaming with rage, furious +at being caught in the trap and uneasy as to how this adventure would +end.</p> + +<p>Whilst he was realising that his unknown porters were carrying their +heavy weight with difficulty to the pavement of rue Raffet, he made up +his mind to a definite course of action: regardless of consequences, he +was going to shout, move about, make a regular disturbance, rouse the +attention of the passers-by—if there happened to be any—but, at all +costs, he meant to get out of the trap!... He saw a ray of hope: Madame +Bourrat had accompanied her visitors as far as the gate. In presence of +such a witness, they would, at least, hesitate to do him serious bodily +harm when he made his presence unmistakably known, furious though they +would be. He would take every advantage of the situation....</p> + +<p>Fandor was about to act: a second more and he would have started, when +he heard them speaking. He kept quiet.</p> + +<p>"We must have a taxi, or at the very least a cab to transport this big +trunk. Do you know where one is likely to be found?"</p> + +<p>"I doubt if one will be passing at this hour, monsieur. We retire early +in these parts; but, if you like, Jules can go to the station."</p> + +<p>"That's settled. Let him go as fast as he can!"</p> + +<p>"Well, that is reassuring," thought Fandor. "If these fine fellows take +a cab, it is not with the intention of chucking my cage and me into the +river—and that is what I feared most. They may be going to leave me in +a cloak-room till called for; or they may pack us off as luggage to some +destination unknown! ... Oh, well, I shall only be a traveller without a +ticket and I shall be sure to find some way out of the difficulty! And +then, what stuff for an article I shall have when I get back to <i>La +Capitale</i>!... What must they be thinking at the offices! It's +forty-eight hours since I put foot in them! Never mind! When they +know!..."</p> + +<p>Fandor was listening with all his ears; but the bandits had little to +say; and, when they did speak, their voices were plainly disguised. Was +it as a general precaution, or was it on account of Madame Bourrat?... +But, unless they were known to her, why the necessity? If, however, she +knew one or more of them personally, why, they must have disguised their +faces and figures as well as their voices!... If only he could have a +peep at them!</p> + +<p>The sound of wheels made him suppose that Jules had succeeded in getting +a cab at the Auteuil station. Then the trot-trot-trot of a horse became +audible: a few moments later a cab drew up at the edge of the pavement.</p> + +<p>A hoarse voice was heard.</p> + +<p>"It's not a long journey, I hope!" said the hoarse, grumbling voice of +the cabman.</p> + +<p>"To Police Headquarters," replied the pretended police inspector.</p> + +<p>"We shall see about that!" thought Fandor. "That address is to throw +dust in Madame Bourrat's eyes. They will change their destination on the +way. I bet on it!..."</p> + +<p>"The brutes! Are they going to jam my cage and me on to the seat?" +Fandor asked himself, for they had seized the trunk and were beginning +to lift it up. ... "Am I to be stuck upside down beside the driver? I +don't fancy so!... We must weigh at least ninety kilos, as I weigh +seventy myself!"</p> + +<p>Fandor's mind was soon made easy on that score. After a fruitless +attempt to hoist the trunk to the box seat, they decided to put it on to +the back seat of the Victoria. One of the bandits planted himself on the +little folding seat opposite the trunk: the other bandit mounted to the +box seat next the driver.</p> + +<p>The two bandits took leave of Madame Bourrat. The rickety old vehicle +started off. Presently, Fandor heard what he had expected to hear: one +of his captors told the driver to take them to some other address than +Police Headquarters. Owing to the rattling of the ramshackle cab—it +lacked rubber tyres—Fandor, though listening with ears astretch, could +not hear one word distinctly.</p> + +<p>Soon pale gleams of light began to filter through the wickerwork: dawn +was near.</p> + +<p>"Ah, we shall soon reach our destination," thought Fandor. "I don't +fancy my trunk lifters will wish to be seen with this turnout in broad +daylight! Now, where the deuce are we going?"</p> + +<p>In vain did Fandor strive to follow the route taken by the bandits! He +had noted each shock and counter-shock produced by cobbled streets and +smooth roads, by bumping against pavements, by crossed tram lines and +sharp turnings!...</p> + +<p>The cab stopped with a jolt and a jerk. The two men got out. The trunk +was lifted down to the pavement. The driver was paid. He rattled off.</p> + +<p>"Now trunk and I are in for it!" thought Fandor.</p> + +<p>A bell pealed. A courtyard entrance gate was thrown open. The two men +lifted the trunk, cursing under their breath at its weight.</p> + +<p>In passing under the archway they called some name unknown to Fandor and +so unintelligible that he could not remember it; then it was a painful +ascension: up a staircase they went with prodigious effort, stopping on +two landings.</p> + +<p>"Two floors," counted Fandor. "We are coming to the end, and, all said +and done, I would rather be in a house than at the bottom of the river!"</p> + +<p>A key turned in a lock; the trunk was pushed rapidly inside; then the +noise of a door being shut.</p> + +<p>Fandor was in a room; no doubt, alone with the two bandits, and at their +mercy! He was plunged into complete darkness. Evidently the shutters +were still closed. The noise made by footsteps on the floor showed that +it was uncarpeted. Judging from the sound, there seemed to be little +furniture and no hangings in the room.</p> + +<p>"Am I and my cage in an ordinary room, in a studio, or in a hall?" +wondered Fandor. In any case, the fellows who had brought him there +seemed anxious to avoid making a noise.</p> + +<p>Then he felt the cover of the wickerwork trunk bend slightly and heard +it creak. For a moment, he thought the two men were about to open his +prison. He had his revolver ready: every inch of him was on the +defensive! Then he realised that his captors had merely seated +themselves on the trunk to rest!</p> + +<p>They began to talk.</p> + +<p>"This," thought Fandor, "is splendid! I shall hear everything they say. +Why, it is a conversation in my honour! What luck!"</p> + +<p>Fandor was delighted: thanks to his position he would hear some +interesting secrets. He listened. Alas! He could hear every word they +uttered, but he could not understand what they were saying! Fandor swore +strictly to himself. The two wretches were conversing in German.</p> + +<p>To the best of his judgment, a good hour had passed since the false +police inspector and his acolyte had left the room. They had simply +drawn to the door behind them, not troubling to lock it, much to the joy +of Jérôme Fandor.</p> + +<p>Absolute silence reigned.</p> + +<p>Fandor attempted some discreet movements as a test. The wickerwork +creaked as he gently shook the trunk at short intervals. Not an +answering sound came from outside! Menaced with cramp, Fandor felt that +the moment of escape had arrived.</p> + +<p>He was, certainly, the only living soul in the place: listen as he +might, and his sense of hearing was acute, he could not hear any sound +of breathing. Yes, the time to quit his prison had come!</p> + +<p>Fandor had with him, besides his revolver, a box of matches, and a +hunter's knife consisting of several blades, and a little saw. Getting +out his knife with some difficulty, he began to hack at the wickerwork. +Dry and pliant, the interlaced rods did not long resist the saw's steel +teeth. It took him a bare ten minutes to make an opening, sufficiently +large to push his head and shoulders through: the rest of his body +followed easily. Such was his haste to be free, that he tore, not only +his clothes, but his elbows and hands, on the jagged ends of the broken +wickerwork: large drops of blood fell on the flooring.</p> + +<p>"Bah! I've got off cheaply!" cried Fandor, standing up to relax his +cramped muscles and stretching his aching legs and arms.</p> + +<p>"Unless I am jolly well mistaken, I am lord of all I survey. I am alone +in my glory! There's not a soul in the place! Good luck indeed!"</p> + +<p>He turned for a last look at his broken prison house, the cage in which +he had spent such exciting hours. He suddenly stiffened and drew back: a +nervous trembling seized him—the nervous trembling due to sudden shock. +Between the trunk which had been dumped down in the centre of a large +square room, without a scrap of furniture in it, and the window, through +whose shutters the rays of morning sunshine shone, Fandor had caught +sight of a body lying on the floor—a man's body! Fandor leapt forward. +Was this same cunning criminal feigning sleep for some evil purpose? +Standing over that motionless figure, Fandor bent and touched one of the +man's hands: it was ice-cold and rigid. The man was dead!</p> + +<p>To see his face was imperative: it was turned towards the floor. With +difficulty Fandor raised the head and shoulders, for they were unusually +large and strongly built. Fandor glanced at the face and suddenly +withdrew his hand: the corpse fell back on the floor with a thud!</p> + +<p>"Thomery!" murmured Fandor. "Why, it's Thomery!"</p> + +<p>It was the well-known sugar refiner's body. The face was purple, the +tongue protruding. Round his neck was tied a tricoloured scarf, the +scarf of a police inspector! Was this the murderer's ironic touch?</p> + +<p>Fandor sank down quite overcome. He tried to collect his thoughts.</p> + +<p>"A disgusting joke this! If someone should take into his head to enter +the room at this moment, what kind of explanation could I give? Here I +am, alone with the dead body of a man I know, and in a room I don't +know, in a neighbourhood whose whereabouts I know no more than the man +in the moon."</p> + +<p>"Where am I?... In whose house?... For what purpose?... Have those +beauties of last night no suspicion of the truth?... Did they leave me +in this lair of theirs of set purpose, knowing I was cooped up inside +the trunk?"</p> + +<p>Just then, Fandor felt a slight moisture on the palm of his hand: it was +all red: the scratches, made by the jagged edges of the wickerwork, were +still bleeding.</p> + +<p>"Better and better I declare!" murmured Fandor. "If I don't look like a +little holy Saint John! A corpse, and a man with blood on his hands +seated beside the dead body of this murdered man! Nothing more is +required to jail me with all the power of the law!... To go to prison +under such suspicious circumstances is serious!... The police, who are +floundering about in a maze of investigations, without any result so +far, will be only too delighted to kill two birds with one stone—to +suppress a journalist and discover a criminal!... I have got to get out +of here; that is plain as a pikestaff!... Get away? Yes, but with the +honour of war!... I must establish an alibi—that is absolutely +necessary.... I like to think that my false police inspector and his +accomplice have cut and run for some time; at any rate, that they will +be in no hurry to come back to see what is happening where they have so +neatly and nicely left the corpse of this Thomery.... What part did this +fellow play in the drama?... Criminal or victim?"</p> + +<p>Fandor had reached the door of the hall opening on to the main +staircase. He was listening.... He had explored the flat. It was empty. +He had found water in the kitchen, had washed his face, and removed +every trace of blood from his person. It was a flat suitable for a +middle-class household. There were three large rooms, decorated with a +certain amount of luxury.</p> + +<p>Fandor looked at his watch. It was seven o'clock. He stood listening. +Someone, a man, was coming downstairs: someone, a woman, was coming up. +They met on the landing just outside.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur Mercadier, here are your letters! I was bringing them up to +you!"</p> + +<p>"It was hardly worth while, my good lady. I have to come down, you see, +so you can save yourself five flights of stairs!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, monsieur! I have to come up to go down my stairs."</p> + +<p>Monsieur Mercadier continued to descend, and the portress continued to +mount.</p> + +<p>Fandor's heart beat faster when he realised that she was approaching the +door. Would she come in and find him there? Had the new tenants left a +key of the flat with her? No, the portress dusted the landing quickly +and continued her ascent: he heard her going up and up....</p> + +<p>He made up his mind to slip out on to the landing. Despite his efforts, +he could not prevent his shoes creaking: it was spring-time, and already +the stair carpet had been taken up. He was on the point of going +downstairs, when he heard the portress calling from above:</p> + +<p>"Who's there?... What do you want?"</p> + +<p>Had she heard him leave the flat? Was he to be stupidly caught, just as +he was escaping?... He must act at once. He went up a step or two of the +next flight of stairs and called out:</p> + +<p>"Is Monsieur Mercadier at home?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, no, monsieur! He has just this minute gone out! I am surprised you +did not meet him!..."</p> + +<p>"Very good, madame. I will come another time!"</p> + +<p>Fandor turned on his heel, and, whistling, with hands in pockets, he +gained the ground floor, passed the entrance gate, and found himself in +the street. He mingled with the passers-by, and learned from the first +plaque he came to with the name of the street on it, that he was in rue +Lecourbe, Vaugirard....</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XX" id="XX"></a>XX</h2> + +<h3>UNDER THE HOODED MASK</h3> + + +<p>What had happened? By way of what mysterious adventures had the corpse +of sugar refiner Thomery reached that empty room in rue Lecourbe, where +Jérôme Fandor had come across it?</p> + +<p>Two days previous, on the afternoon of Elizabeth Dollon's arrest, +Monsieur Thomery was working in his study, when a servant came to tell +him that a lady wished to speak to him.</p> + +<p>"Did she give you her name?" asked Thomery.</p> + +<p>"No, monsieur, this person said her name would tell you nothing; but she +was sure monsieur would see her, for she would only detain him a minute +or two...."</p> + +<p>Piles of papers were stacked on the great sugar refiner's study table: +typists were laying numerous letters before him, which awaited his +signature. Thomery thought to himself:</p> + +<p>"I have still a good half-hour's work before me ... deuce take this +importunate visitor!" He was on the point of saying he could not see any +one, when the servant added:</p> + +<p>"This person declares she comes with reference to Madame the Princess +Danidoff."</p> + +<p>Though he was a man of business, Thomery was a gallant man also; and +very much in love; his approaching marriage with the Princess, which had +been kept secret, was now known. The name of Princess Danidoff settled +the question.</p> + +<p>"Very well, let her come in!"</p> + +<p>The manservant disappeared a minute, then ushered into the study a very +unassuming woman of uncertain age and quite ordinary looking.</p> + +<p>Thomery rose to meet her, pointing pleasantly to one of the large +arm-chairs in the room. The visitor was profusely apologetic.</p> + +<p>"I am so exceedingly sorry, Monsieur Thomery, to disturb you at such an +hour, when you must certainly have a great deal to occupy your +attention; but the matter I have come about will not wait, and I am sure +it will interest you...."</p> + +<p>This little person seemed very intelligent, and Thomery was favourably +impressed by her manner, which was both simple and decided.</p> + +<p>"Madame, I am listening to you. In what way can I be of service to you?"</p> + +<p>"I am not here, monsieur," she protested, "to pester you with any wants +and wishes for myself. I am a diamond broker and ..."</p> + +<p>She had not finished her sentence when Thomery, smiling but firm, rose, +and said sharply:</p> + +<p>"In that case, madame, I can guess the motive of your call...."</p> + +<p>"But, monsieur ..."</p> + +<p>"Yes!... That is so!... Ever since my approaching marriage has been +announced, I have received, every day, a dozen visits from jewellers, +goldsmiths, upholsterers, and so on ... I regret to have to tell you +that you will not be able to persuade me to buy ... that my betrothed +has received so many wedding presents that there is no room for more.... +I do not require one single thing...."</p> + +<p>Although Thomery had spoken in a tone which did not admit of any reply, +although he had risen the better to mark his intention of cutting short +the call, the diamond broker had remained seated, leaning back in her +arm-chair.... She gave no sign of being ready to go away.</p> + +<p>"Consequently, madame," continued Thomery....</p> + +<p>His visitor laughed.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur, you have very quickly made up your mind that I have nothing +interesting to offer you! I have not come to offer you ordinary +jewels...."</p> + +<p>It was Thomery's turn to smile slightly.</p> + +<p>"I quite understand, madame, that you should think your merchandise +exceptional.... But once more ..."</p> + +<p>The broker interrupted the sugar refiner with a movement of her hand.</p> + +<p>"Do listen to me a moment, monsieur!... Though I am a diamond broker, +diamonds are not what I have come to ask you to purchase ... it is a +question of something quite different...."</p> + +<p>She paused deliberately: Thomery gazed at her without saying a word.</p> + +<p>"You know, monsieur," continued the broker, "that in such a business as +mine, one is obliged to see a great many jewellers every day; well, in +the course of my peregrinations, I found at a jeweller's—you must allow +me to withhold his name—some pearls, which I am certain you will find +are a wonderful bargain...."</p> + +<p>"For the last time, madame, I do not want a wonderful bargain!"</p> + +<p>The agent smiled curiously.</p> + +<p>"There are some things which simply do not allow themselves to be +refused," she declared.... She now drew from her pocket a little +jewel-case; and, notwithstanding Thomery's unconcealed impatience, +opened it, and selected two pearls which she held out to him.</p> + +<p>"Do examine these jewels! You are going to tell me that they are +perfectly beautiful, are you not, Monsieur Thomery?"</p> + +<p>The diamond broker offered them so naturally that Thomery gave way. He +examined the pearls: he was a connoisseur.</p> + +<p>"In truth, madame, these pearls are superb; unfortunately I am not +enough of an expert to buy them without taking competent advice, that is +if I thought of acquiring them eventually, but I repeat, I have no wish +to acquire such things!"</p> + +<p>"Deuce take it!" thought Thomery. "This broker won't take 'no' for an +answer! Since I cannot rid myself of her by being pleasant, I shall make +myself disagreeable!"</p> + +<p>But the would-be seller still insisted.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur, you really cannot be a connoisseur, otherwise I am sure you +would not return these pearls to me."</p> + +<p>"But, madame!..."</p> + +<p>"And I am convinced that if Princess Sonia Danidoff had had them in her +hand instead of you, she would have been greatly taken with them!"</p> + +<p>The broker had emphasised her words so strangely that, suddenly, Thomery +hesitated.</p> + +<p>What did this mysterious visitor mean? What was it she considered so +"extraordinary" about the jewels she had just submitted to him?... A +suspicion flashed across his mind.</p> + +<p>"Whence come these pearls, madame?"</p> + +<p>But, at this question, the broker got up.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur Thomery," declared she, "I should be very vexed with myself +were I to make you lose your evening ... your time is precious; besides, +in order to give you a proper answer to your question, I should have to +make certain of facts I only now guess at.... Still, I think that +without having told you anything definite, I have made you sufficiently +understand what is in my mind,... you will not now doubt the interest +that the Princess Sonia Danidoff would have, were she able to examine +these jewels...."</p> + +<p>"Is that so?"</p> + +<p>"Consequently, Monsieur Thomery, I am going to ask you if you will +kindly show these pearls to the Princess; and then if you will be good +enough to let me know what decision you come to, jointly with her.... If +you were a buyer, I fancy I might let you have these jewels on quite +exceptional terms."</p> + +<p>Thomery visibly hesitated.... He was looking at the pearls, which he was +still holding in his hand, and he thought.</p> + +<p>"One might swear that these are two of the pearls stolen from Sonia at +my ball!"</p> + +<p>Thomery did not reply at once. The broker was looking at him with a +smile; she seemed to guess his thoughts. Thomery, on his side, was +examining the woman.</p> + +<p>"Is she simply a police informer?" he asked himself. "One of these women +who apparently are dealers, but are really in the pay of the police, and +frequent jewellers for the purpose of tracing stolen jewels?"</p> + +<p>He was on the verge of asking her who she was, but he refrained.</p> + +<p>If this woman had not presented herself under her true colours, +evidently she wished to pass for an ordinary dealer. It was possible +that she was really a receiver of stolen goods!</p> + +<p>Thomery came to a decision.</p> + +<p>"I shall have the privilege of seeing the Princess Danidoff to-morrow +afternoon; will you therefore leave the pearls with me?... I will show +them to her. Should she express the slightest wish to possess them, I +might possibly come to terms with you...."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"Dearest, it is sweet of you to make no objection to the way in which I +obtained this jewel for you to see, and to choose for your own, if you +will.... The correct thing would have been to ask you to accompany me to +some well-known jeweller, instead of which, I frankly confess, that +these pearls were offered to me on very advantageous terms. If they +please you, it will give me the greatest pleasure to see them adorning +your graceful neck."</p> + +<p>Princess Sonia laughed.</p> + +<p>"My dear, for Heaven's sake, don't worry about such a thing as that!... +A pearl is not less beautiful because it comes from some unpretentious +jeweller's shop. I am too fond of jewels for their own sake, to trouble +about the casket that enshrines them!"</p> + +<p>Thomery bowed, well pleased.</p> + +<p>"Here then, dear Sonia, are the two pearls entrusted to me as samples +... please, dearest, examine them carefully, very carefully ... and if +you like them, tell me so frankly...."</p> + +<p>The Princess took the two pearls from the betrothed, and, crossing the +great drawing-room, she approached one of the bay windows, lifting the +thin hangings that she might the better examine the pearls.</p> + +<p>"They are marvellous!" she cried.</p> + +<p>"Dear Sonia, you think these gems rarely beautiful?"</p> + +<p>"Indeed I do! Their lustre is superb; their quality, their shape, +perfect!... Why, my dear, these are the most splendid pearls I have ever +seen—with one exception—the only pearls to equal them are those that +were stolen from me!... The loss of them has been a bitter grief ... +they came to me, you know, from my dear mother!... I never thought to +find pearls of such quality again...."</p> + +<p>"You consider these to be of as pure a quality then, dear?"</p> + +<p>Sonia Danidoff continued to examine the two pearls.</p> + +<p>"It is really extraordinary," she cried suddenly. "Do you know, my dear, +there are certain peculiarities about their lustre,... yes ... I could +swear that these very pearls you are offering me are two of those stolen +from me!..."</p> + +<p>Thomery appeared to have been impatiently awaiting these very words.</p> + +<p>"You really, truly believe, Sonia, that they resemble the pearls stolen +from you that unlucky evening?"</p> + +<p>"I repeat—they are identical!"</p> + +<p>Thomery looked smilingly at Sonia.</p> + +<p>"Well, then, my dear one, I do not think you are mistaken!... I have all +sorts of reasons for supposing that they really are two of your own +pearls you are now holding in your hand...." And, then and there, +Thomery told his fiancée all about the strange visit he had received the +evening before, as well as his hope that he would be able to recover +the stolen triple collar in its entirety.</p> + +<p>"That intriguing dealer," said he finally, "must be a police +informer.... In any case, I am persuaded that, before long, she will +take me to some receiver or other who is in possession of your pearl +collar."</p> + +<p>"Oh, tell me you are not going among such people, all alone?" cried +Sonia, with a note of sharp anxiety in her voice.</p> + +<p>"But, why not?"</p> + +<p>"If they are, as you think, thieves?"</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"Well! Don't you see, my dear, that if you go to buy the pearls, they +will count on your bringing a large sum of money with you!... Why, it +would be a most imprudent thing to do!..."</p> + +<p>Thomery shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"Really, that's nonsense, Sonia! If these assassins meant to set a trap +for me, they have a thousand other means of doing so ... besides, it +would be remarkably daring of them to advise me to show you these +pearls, and draw my attention to the question of their being stolen +ones!... No, Sonia, this dealer is not the emissary of a band of robbers +and assassins: she is a police informer, who has taken precautions. I +run no dangerous risks by accompanying her! Reassure yourself on that +point!..."</p> + +<p>But Sonia Danidoff was not reassured by Thomery's arguments.</p> + +<p>"All that only frightens me!" said she.... "If you do not really think +you are running any risk, will you let me go with you?... My dear, we +will go together to identify those pearls, will we not?"</p> + +<p>Thomery rose to take his leave, laughing and protesting.</p> + +<p>"Why, dear Sonia, it would be in the highest degree improper on my part, +were I to agree to such a proposition!... One of two things: either +there is no danger, and I should be very sorry that I had let you go out +in such shocking weather; or, if there is danger, I should be still +more distressed were I to drag you into it with me.... I do beg of you, +Sonia, do not insist on it.... I am not a child!... And I will be very +careful—very wary!..."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Shortly after this, Thomery took leave of Sonia Danidoff. He went +straight to the Café de la Paix, where he had arranged to meet the +diamond broker....</p> + +<p>She was punctual. She greeted Thomery with her most winning smile.</p> + +<p>"I am persuaded, monsieur, that Madame Sonia Danidoff was interested by +the offer you made her?"</p> + +<p>"Quite so," replied Thomery.... "Should we go to your jeweller's, +without further loss of time?"</p> + +<p>"If you really wish to do so, monsieur! Indeed it would be the best +thing to do...."</p> + +<p>Thomery hailed a cab. He and the diamond agent entered it together, and +she gave the driver an address. Twenty minutes later they left the cab +and were standing before the house where the present possessor of the +pearls was to be found. Thomery knew no more now about the person he had +come to interview, than he did when he started: that is to say, +practically nothing.</p> + +<p>The diamond broker had cleverly evaded giving any direct answers to the +sugar refiner's questions: she had confined herself to stating what +would be the probable price demanded for the pearl collar—which +question interested Thomery least of all!</p> + +<p>They mounted, in single file, a rather poor sort of staircase: on the +second floor the woman stopped. A narrow door faced them.... The woman +rang.... They waited....</p> + +<p>"Someone is coming!" said the woman. "I hear footsteps."</p> + +<p>The door was opened half-way.</p> + +<p>"Who is it?" asked a man's voice.</p> + +<p>"I, dear friend," answered the woman.</p> + +<p>The door opened wide: the same voice said:</p> + +<p>"Come in, monsieur."</p> + +<p>Thomery had barely stepped inside the room, when the diamond broker, who +was close behind, flung a long silk scarf round his neck, and, pushing +his knee into his victim's back for a support, he attempted to give, +with Herculean force, the famous stroke of Father Francis Vigozous; +energetic, Thomery did not lose his presence of mind.... He knew that to +resist such a pull by simple force was impossible.... Quickly he threw +himself backwards, thus giving to the strangling pull and falling on top +of the woman, who had played this dastardly trick on him. From his +constricted throat came a hoarse "Ah!" like a death rattle.</p> + +<p>As he was falling, for one flashing second, it seemed as though he were +going to escape from the vise which was crushing in his throat... then, +out of the shadow, there had appeared the fantastic vision of a man in a +tight fitting sort of black jersey, which covered him from head to +foot.... His face was concealed by a hooded mask....</p> + +<p>This man had leapt out of the shadow.</p> + +<p>He held a dagger in his hand.</p> + +<p>Before Thomery had time to make a movement, the masked man had pierced +his chest with a single stroke!... The sugar refiner was naught but a +convulsive corpse.</p> + +<p>"Ah, well!" declared the so-called diamond broker, who had got to his +feet and was kicking Thomery's body aside. "Ah, well, he is a dead +weight this fellow!... By Jove, master, I fancied he was going to crush +me, and that I should have to let him free!... You did well to come to +the rescue!"</p> + +<p>The masked man remarked in an indifferent tone:</p> + +<p>"It really does not matter in the slightest!... Tell me, does anyone +suspect?"</p> + +<p>"No one, master. He came like a sheep to the slaughter."</p> + +<p>"Princess Danidoff?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, as for her—she must be waiting for the return of her beloved +friend.... I do not advise you to pay her a visit!"</p> + +<p>"Be silent, chatter-box!" ordered the masked assassin sharply. "Get rid +of your clothes.... We must hurry!... We have work to do!"</p> + +<p>"This evening?"</p> + +<p>"This evening!"</p> + +<p>And, whilst the diamond broker rid himself rapidly of skirt and bodice +and regained his masculine appearance—for this diamond broker was a +man—the masked assassin added:</p> + +<p>"Nibet, you have played your part perfectly, and I will pay you +to-morrow the sum we agreed on; but, I repeat, we have work before us +this evening—so, be quick!"</p> + +<p>There was a short silence, then the bandit asked:</p> + +<p>"You have arranged to put among this fool's papers the rent receipts, +which will enable the police to find this flat?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, master!"</p> + +<p>"Good! Now all we have to do, is to get away from this room, which we +shall not see again ... until this evening at any rate!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XXI" id="XXI"></a>XXI</h2> + +<h3>IN A PRISON VAN</h3> + + +<p>In one of the rooms reserved for readers of <i>La Capitale</i>, Jérôme Fandor +was gravely listening to Madame Bourrat's account of what had occurred +at her boarding-house during the night. She had rushed off to tell him +and to ask his advice.</p> + +<p>"What you tell me, madame, is truly extraordinary!" said Fandor, with an +air of profound astonishment....</p> + +<p>"How did you discover that the police inspector who seized the trunk and +carried it away was not a genuine policeman?"</p> + +<p>"Why, through the arrival of Monsieur Xavié, the police inspector of our +district! I know him.... There was no mistaking who and what he was; and +when I told him that the trunk had been carried off the preceding +evening, rather in the dead of night, he guessed everything...."</p> + +<p>"And what did he say?..."</p> + +<p>"Oh, he made us all come to the police station; and I can assure you +that he looked far from pleased!"</p> + +<p>"You must admit, dear madame, that his annoyance was not without +reason!... The police were made fine fools of in this affair.... But +afterwards?... Whom did he take back with him to the police station?"</p> + +<p>"He took me and my manservant."</p> + +<p>"And when you got to the police station?"</p> + +<p>"Well, Monsieur Fandor, when we reached the police station, he made us +come into his office, and there he put us through a regular +examination,... just as though he suspected us!"</p> + +<p>"But there must have been an accomplice in your house who let the +robbers in," said Fandor. "I do not suppose the false police inspector +forced the door open!"</p> + +<p>"Ah, but, Monsieur Fandor, here is something I do not understand, nor +does anybody else!... No, they did not try to hide themselves—not the +least in the world! They rang the bell; they asked to see me; they told +me what they had come for; and, accompanied by my manservant, carried +away the trunk, and had it put on the cab—all in the most open and +bare-faced manner!"</p> + +<p>"It was your manservant who accompanied them?"</p> + +<p>"But most certainly ... and that very fact turned against Jules, in a +very nasty manner.... Poor Jules! Just imagine, the police inspector +finished by ordering my house to be thoroughly searched from top to +bottom! And when the policemen returned, without a why or wherefore, +they took Jules away to another part of the police station!"</p> + +<p>"I say! I say!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, it was all explained! As soon as Jules had gone, the police +inspector told me that they had found keys in his rooms, keys which +could be made to fit any kind of lock whatever. Monsieur Xavié was +convinced that my poor Jules was a burglar—imagine it!"</p> + +<p>"And you, yourself, madame, are convinced of the contrary?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, assuredly! Why, I have known Jules a very long time! And in many +little ways on many occasions, he has shown himself to be strictly +honest."</p> + +<p>"But those false keys?"</p> + +<p>"Those false keys, Monsieur Fandor, why I myself made Jules buy them, +hoping to find among them one that would open my coach-house."</p> + +<p>"So that?..."</p> + +<p>"So that, Monsieur Fandor, the police inspector was obliged to agree +with me that Jules was honest!"</p> + +<p>"And he released this servant of yours?" asked Fandor.</p> + +<p>His tone expressed annoyance.</p> + +<p>"No, and that is why I am so distressed. He said, that provisionally, at +least, my servant, Jules, was to be considered as under arrest! What +ought to be done to get him let out?"</p> + +<p>"But, madame!... He will be set free to-morrow, you may be certain of +it!..."</p> + +<p>"No doubt he will!... All the same, there is my house turned upside +down, and I need Jules to help me to-night!... I really do not know what +I shall do without him! Poor fellow!... I simply cannot imagine how it +is they suspect him!"</p> + +<p>Fandor said, with mock gravity:</p> + +<p>"Ah, madame, Justice is sometimes so stupid—so wrongheaded!... Look +here now, would you like a bit of good advice?... Telephone to Messieurs +Barbey-Nanteuil. They are well known and powerful—perhaps they would +exert their influence in your servant's favour? He might be set free +this evening! I, you see, am but a journalist, and without a scrap of +influence!"</p> + +<p>Madame Bourrat thought this a good idea. Fandor rang for an attendant.</p> + +<p>"Take madame to the telephone!"</p> + +<p>Left to himself, the reporter could not help rubbing his hands.</p> + +<p>"I must get rid of this excellent woman, who is certainly the most +foolish person it has ever been my lot to meet. Good hearing! That +servant of hers is under lock and key—things are going in the right +direction ... but they are not going well for me!... If he confesses, +to-morrow, when he is had up for examination, then the police will have +the information before me!... Then, too, they are such duffers—such +bunglers—that they are quite capable of giving that Jules his +liberty!... What the deuce must I do to prevent his being let loose, and +how am I to stop the judicial interrogation?... What a dog's life a +journalist's is!"</p> + +<p>Madame Bourrat reappeared.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur Nanteuil is not there," she said. "But I got into +communication with Monsieur Barbey.... He advised me to wait till +to-morrow: he said it was too late in the day to do anything...."</p> + +<p>"But, will he not intervene to-morrow?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know. To tell the truth, I am sure Monsieur Barbey thought it +very inconsiderate of me to disturb him about a matter in which he takes +not the slightest interest."</p> + +<p>"That's a fact. What possible interest can the bankers take in such a +matter?... My advice was absurd!"</p> + +<p>Fandor rose. As he was seeing his visitor out, he said:</p> + +<p>"In any case, dear madame, count on me to-morrow morning. I shall call +at your house about eleven. If there is anything fresh, we can talk it +over!..."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"Oh, here's Janson-de-Sailly College!... Oh, what detestable +remembrances you conjure up!... But—this won't do!... Go it, my boy!... +I must play the part!"</p> + +<p>The plumber, who had just given utterance to these remarks, glanced +sharply about him. When he had made sure that there was no one close on +his heels, he stepped into the roadway, and started on a zigzag course +which seemed likely to upset his balance. Crossing the avenue +Henri-Martin, going straight, towards the town hall at the corner of the +rue de la Pompe, the good plumber, who was staggering more than a +little, began to stutter and stammer in a drunken voice:</p> + +<p>"<i>It is the final struggle!</i>"</p> + +<p>The passers-by looked round.</p> + +<p>"They sing the <i>Internationale</i> in the streets now, it seems!" remarked +a severe-looking gentleman.</p> + +<p>The workman turned to this correct personage.</p> + +<p>"What of it?... Don't you think it a jolly fine thing then?"</p> + +<p>In a thick voice he continued to sing:</p> + +<p>"<i>Let us gather, and on the morrow...</i>"</p> + +<p>The severe and correct personage spoke.</p> + +<p>"My friend, you would do better to hold your tongue!... You forget that +there is a police station close by!..."</p> + +<p>But the incorrigible plumber caught the correct personage by his coat +tails.</p> + +<p>"If I sing the <i>Internationale</i>, it's because I'm a free man—ain't +I?... A free man can sing if he likes, can't he? Eh!... Why don't you +sing then?... Eh!..."</p> + +<p>The correct personage drew himself up stiffly: tried to push the +obnoxious plumber away.... The workman had now reached that stage of +drunkenness when discussions tend to become interminable.</p> + +<p>The gentleman pushed the drunken man aside, saying:</p> + +<p>"Come! Come! Go away!... Leave me alone!"</p> + +<p>But the maudlin plumber was attracting the attention of the passers by +his gestures. He addressed the world at large.</p> + +<p>"Would you believe it—that fellow there don't want me to sing!... No! +Well, I'm going to!" and he started triumphantly.</p> + +<p>"<i>It is the—the—final ... strug-gle!</i>"</p> + +<p>A policeman came out of the station with a solemn air. He put his hand +on the tipsy plumber's shoulder in paternal fashion.</p> + +<p>"Go along with you, my friend!... Come now—pass along—pass along!" But +he could not make the plumber budge before he had finished his verse, +any more than he could teach him to walk straight on the spur of the +moment!... Leaving hold of the gentleman's coat tails, the worthy +plumber seized the policeman's arm.'</p> + +<p>"Oh, you, you're a brother!... I have education, I have! You're a +workman too, I know!..."</p> + +<p>As the police inspector pushed him off, trying to make him go on his +way, the plumber put his arm round him.</p> + +<p>"No! No!... show you're a workman! Sing with me!"</p> + +<p>"<i>It is the final ...</i>"</p> + +<p>The scandal could no longer be tolerated! Street-corner idlers were +gathering, people were laughing at the policeman: strong measures were +necessary.</p> + +<p>"Come now," said the policeman. "Yes, or no! Will you be off, and go +home?... Eh!... Or shall I take you to the station?..."</p> + +<p>"You take me?... You take me?... Why, it would take four of you to take +me!..."</p> + +<p>There was no shilly-shallying after this! Wounded in his vanity, the +servant of the law did not hesitate.</p> + +<p>"All right!" said he; and seizing the plumber by the collar, although +there was no attempt at resistance, he dragged his prisoner towards the +town hall of the district, for the police station was there also.</p> + +<p>"Some more game for the Dépôt!" said the policeman as he passed the +guard.... "A fellow I can't get rid of! Are the cells full up?"</p> + +<p>Other policemen came up. An arrest in a peaceful district gives interest +to the dull routine of the men on duty.</p> + +<p>"The cells full? Go along with you! There's only a small shopkeeper who +had no papers."</p> + +<p>Thereupon the unfortunate singer, who continued to stagger about, was +quickly pushed into the dark room called "the detention room."</p> + +<p>An ordinary every day incident of the streets, this arrest of a +drunkard!</p> + +<p>"I shall have to write out a report for this fellow!" said the +policeman, who had arrested the songster... "and the 'Salad Basket'<a name="FNanchor_10_10" id="FNanchor_10_10"></a><a href="#Footnote_10_10" class="fnanchor">[10]</a> +passes in an hour's time! ... I shall just do it!"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"Have you anyone for the Dépôt to-day?" asked the driver from his high +seat on the prison van. He was on a collecting journey as is usual every +evening, when the Salad Baskets, as they are vulgarly called, pass to +the various police stations of Paris to pick up the individuals arrested +during the day.</p> + +<p>"Two of 'em," answered the police sergeant on duty. Whilst official +papers were being interchanged and forms were being filled in according +to rule, policemen went to the cells to bring out the two prisoners to +be despatched to the Dépôt.</p> + +<p>The first to pass out was the costermonger. He was straightway put into +one of the narrow compartments in the Salad Basket. Then it was the turn +of the tipsy and obstreperous workman, who was now silent, moody, and +apparently sober.</p> + +<p>"Hop it now!" cried the policeman. "Come along with you, you miserable +drunk!... March now!... Foot it!"</p> + +<p>As the "drunk" hit against the partition of the narrow passageway +running up the middle of the Salad Basket, the policeman, with a shove, +pushed him into one of the compartments, carefully shutting the little +door on him and fastening it.</p> + +<p>"My word!" he exclaimed. "That fellow wouldn't have been capable of +walking three steps in an hour's time!"</p> + +<p>As the driver climbed to his seat on the van, the policeman called out, +with a laugh:</p> + +<p>"You have a traveller inside who doesn't detest wine!... It's a pity to +see a man in such a hoggish state!"</p> + +<p>This same policeman would have been surprised, could he have seen the +bibulous one's face when the Salad Basket cast loose from her moorings +and started off in the direction of the Point-du-Jour police station, +the last on the round to be visited!</p> + +<p>The "drunk" whom one push had sufficed to plant on his seat, had briskly +drawn himself upright and was smiling broadly, a wide, noiseless smile!</p> + +<p>"What a joke!... And what a jolly good actor I should have made!" +thought Jérôme Fandor, giving himself a mental hug of satisfaction.... +"Ah! They arrest the individuals I want to set talking!... The police +imagine they are going to push in first and find out the answer to the +riddle!... We shall see!"</p> + +<p>Fandor was listening intensely and trying to discover from the movements +of the Salad Basket what street they were passing along.</p> + +<p>"Smooth going ... evidently we are still in the rue de la Pompe, so I +have about a quarter of an hour more of it!"</p> + +<p>Fandor examined the tiny cell in which he had been imprisoned of his own +free will.</p> + +<p>"Not much to be said for it!" ran his thoughts. "There is scarcely room +to sit ... impossible to stand up or turn around ... nearly dark ... and +precious little air comes in through those wooden shutters!... I +shouldn't think there ever had been an escape from these vans!..."</p> + +<p>Fandor smiled broadly.</p> + +<p>"Even if I don't succeed, it is worth while making the attempt!... But I +shall succeed—see if I don't!... I settled it in my mind that I was to +leave the cells after this costermonger: he is in front of me, therefore +the cell behind me is empty. It will be deucedly queer if, at Auteuil +police station, they don't put that confounded Jules in it, whom I +intend to interview under the nose of the police!... I shall start +talking to him by tapping on the partition in prisoner's language. The +fellow is pretty sure to be an old offender, so he will know the +system.... If he doesn't, when we get to the Dépôt, I will push up to +him somehow and get a few words with him.... If the Dépôt is full, we +shall be stuck into the common cell until morning.... So, I take it as +certain that my interview with this true and faithful servant will come +off, and I shall get to know a good deal about the mystery!..."</p> + +<p>As an afterthought, it occurred to Fandor that probably there had never +been such a light-hearted occupant of this cell as he....</p> + +<p>"Ah, that's the sound of the trams!... One jolt! Two jolts! Good!... The +rails!... We are crossing rue Mozart! We are going faster—in five +minutes we shall be at the Auteuil police station, and there we can +start our little operations!"</p> + +<p>There was one thing that attracted Fandor's attention, which was keenly +on the alert. There was a violent jolt, and he had a distinct impression +that the vehicle turned to the right.</p> + +<p>"Why, where the deuce are they taking us?" Fandor asked himself. "To the +boulevard Exelmans station?... We had not reached the end of the rue +Mozart, surely!... Where did we turn then? Rue du Ranelagh?... No, there +is a channel stone at the entrance, and I should have felt it!... Rue de +l'Assomption!... Again no. The roadway is up: I should be knocked about +more than this on my wooden seat. We are going over a perfectly kept +road, which cannot have much traffic!... Why, of course, it is rue du +Docteur-Blanche!... Isn't rue Mozart barred at the end? Yes. The driver +must be going round by the boulevard Montmorency.... Ah, well! I am in +no hurry! There will be time enough for me to pay my respects to the +illustrious Jules!"</p> + +<p>Just as Fandor was thus congratulating himself, he was thrown against +the side of his cell! The van seemed to have come into violent collision +with some object and had tilted over to a considerable extent.</p> + +<p>Muffled oaths came from neighbouring cells; a stifled exclamation +reached Fandor's ears; then louder still, came the intermittent humming +and snorting of a motor-car.</p> + +<p>"Confound you!... can't you pay attention to where you are going?... +Keep to your right!"</p> + +<p>Slightly stunned, Fandor heard some one knocking.</p> + +<p>A voice asked:</p> + +<p>"Are you hurt?"</p> + +<p>"No, but ..."</p> + +<p>Already the questioner had moved away.</p> + +<p>"Evidently," thought Fandor, "the driver wants to know whether his human +packages are damaged or not! We have collided with another vehicle!... +Cheerful!"</p> + +<p>Fandor's cell was now at such an angle that he could only suppose that +the Salad Basket had had one of its wheels broken.</p> + +<p>"What a nuisance!" he murmured. "Before they have finished their palaver +as to how the accident happened and have repaired the damage, we shall +have been here a full half-hour.... Jules will be in a temper!"</p> + +<p>Minute succeeded minute, long, interminable minutes, and Fandor could +not hear clearly what was said, what was being done to put the Salad +Basket on its legs again.... The atmosphere in the little cell was +becoming intolerable; for the movement of the vehicle had driven fresh +air inside the shutter, and now that the Salad Basket was stationary, +the air was becoming almost unbreathable.</p> + +<p>Fandor's nerves were on edge.</p> + +<p>"It cannot be that they are going to leave us stranded here!" thought +he.... "Ah, now they have started repairs!" Fandor noticed that his cell +was gradually regaining its ordinary level.... A lifting-jack must have +been slipped under the vehicle, for there was a melancholy creaking +sound. They must be putting the wheel on again!...</p> + +<p>"No," thought Fandor, after some time had passed. "Never would I have +supposed that it could have taken so much time to repair a Salad +Basket!... Why we shall soon have been stuck here for two mortal +hours!... I hope it won't make any difference to our going to the Dépôt, +nor stop my getting into close touch with that villain Jules!"</p> + +<p>There was a further period of waiting. Then our exasperated journalist +heard the driver pass down the centre of the van. The van door +slammed.... Once more the Salad Basket was loosed from its moorings.</p> + +<p>"Something queer is going on!" said Fandor suddenly. He felt certain the +van had turned completely round and was going in the direction it came +from.</p> + +<p>"Now where in the world are we going?... By what kind of a route are we +making for that blessed police station?"</p> + +<p>There were spaces of asphalt, succeeded by wood pavement, then by hard +stones, then asphalt and wood again, and turning succeeded turning, +whilst a new Tom Thumb was doing his possible to guess the route the +Salad Basket was taking. Presently Fandor gave it up. He had to admit +that he was completely lost.... Which way the Salad Basket was going he +knew no more than the Man in the Moon!</p> + +<p>"We have been trotting along for more than half an hour; therefore we +cannot be going to the boulevard Exelmans police station ... the +distance from the rue du Docteur-Blanche to the Point-du-Jour is not +great...."</p> + +<p>As Fandor was murmuring these words, the van slowed down, turned round; +then, with a bump and a jolt, it mounted the footpath.</p> + +<p>"Now for it," said Fandor. "This is certainly not the Point-du-Jour +station!... We are passing under an archway—now we are turning +again.... Ah, we draw up, at last!... Not too soon!"</p> + +<p>The van did stop.</p> + +<p>Again a wait. Fandor cocked both ears; he wondered who was going to +enter the cell next his. Then a man approached the door of his little +cell, where he was indeed "cribbed, cabined and confined"; inserted a +key in the lock, opened, and shouted in a brutal tone:</p> + +<p>"Out with you!... March! Quick now!"</p> + +<p>Fandor had no choice but to obey the orders hurled at him. But no sooner +had he descended the steps of the prison van than he exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"By Jove! The Dépôt!"</p> + +<p>This was not the moment to express all the surprise he felt at being +landed at Police Headquarters in this fashion.... All round the Salad +Basket the police were ranged in irregular order. They shouted to him to +be quick.</p> + +<p>"Come on with you! Hurry there!"</p> + +<p>Fandor, followed by the costermonger, was pushed towards a little open +door in the grey wall which led into a kind of office, where an old +frowning man was already looking through the papers, which had been +respectfully handed to him by a warder.</p> + +<p>"So you have brought only two of the birds?" remarked the frowning +official.</p> + +<p>"Yes, superintendent."</p> + +<p>"Good, that will do!..."</p> + +<p>Turning to the warders, the frowning little superintendent ordered: +"Take them away!... Cell 14.... Useless to rouse the whole place!"</p> + +<p>Once more the warders pushed Fandor before them, as well as the poor +costermonger: they were driven into a dark corridor on to which a row of +cells opened.</p> + +<p>The head warder opened a door.</p> + +<p>"In with you, my merry men! You will be put through your paces +to-morrow!"</p> + +<p>As the door fell to with a resounding clang, Jérôme had inspected the +place by the light of a lantern.</p> + +<p>"Empty!... No luck!... My plan has been spoiled: I shall not be able to +interview Jules!"</p> + +<p>Philosophically, Jérôme Fandor was preparing to go to sleep on the plank +bed which decorated one end of the cell, when the little costermonger, +roused from his torpid condition, began to moan and groan.</p> + +<p>"Oh, what a misfortune!... To think I am innocent! Innocent as an unborn +babe!... What's to be done!... Oh, what's to be done!"</p> + +<p>The last thing Fandor wished to do was to start a conversation with his +lamenting companion. He tapped the costermonger on the shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Good Heavens, man, the best thing you can do is to go to sleep! Take my +word for it!"</p> + +<p>Without puzzling his brains any further over the enigmas he wished to +get to the bottom of, Fandor stretched himself on his plank bed, and was +soon sleeping the sleep of the innocent.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Monsieur Fuselier looked perplexed.</p> + +<p>"You, Fandor! You arrested!... But am I going mad?"</p> + +<p>Our journalist had been taken from his cell at eight in the morning, and +had been conducted to the office of the Public Prosecutor. Here, the +acting magistrate, in conformity with the law, wished to put him through +the examination which would establish his identity. All arrested persons +have to submit to this interrogation within twenty-four hours of their +arrival at the Dépôt.</p> + +<p>Jérôme Fandor had given his name at once, and, in order to prove the +truth of his statements, he had asked that Monsieur Fuselier should be +sent for, so that the magistrate might vouch for his identity and say a +word in his favour.</p> + +<p>Monsieur Fuselier had hastened to the Dépôt, had taken Fandor to his +office, and had anxiously questioned him. Why, he asked, had the police +been obliged to arrest him for drunkenness in the open thoroughfare?</p> + +<p>When Fandor had concluded his statement, the magistrate exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"Your ruse is inconceivable!... I must compliment you highly on your +ability and your detective gifts!"</p> + +<p>"I wish I could agree with you," replied Fandor in a depressed tone. "In +spite of everything, I have not got into communication with Jules. But, +Monsieur Fuselier, have you interrogated him yet?"</p> + +<p>The magistrate shook his head.</p> + +<p>"Alas, my poor friend, you have no idea of the extraordinary events of +the past night; evidently, notwithstanding the fact that you played a +passive part in them!"</p> + +<p>"I played a part?... Extraordinary events?... What the deuce do you +mean?"</p> + +<p>"I mean, dear Fandor, that all Paris is laughing over it. The police +have been tricked! You have been tricked! Did you not tell me, just now, +that your prison van had had an accident? Do you know what really +happened?"</p> + +<p>"I ask you to tell me."</p> + +<p>"Your vehicle was run into by a motor-car. The driver was extremely +clumsy ... or very capable!"</p> + +<p>"What's that?" Fandor leaned forward, keen as a pointer on the scent.</p> + +<p>"It was like this," replied Monsieur Fuselier. "Your Salad Basket was +very badly knocked about by the collision. The driver could not possibly +repair it single-handed. He telephoned to Headquarters. Help was sent at +once, and he had orders to drive to the Dépôt as soon as he could: he +was not to trouble about the boulevard Exelmans station; that, for once, +could be cleared the following morning. Unfortunately the telephone +messages and replies had taken up a certain amount of time. When they +telephoned to the boulevard Exelmans station, from Headquarters, to warn +them not to expect the injured Salad Basket, the Dépôt man who was +telephoning was extremely surprised to hear that the Salad Basket had +already passed on to the Auteuil station and had taken away the arrested +individuals there, notably this famous Jules!..."</p> + +<p>"I never calculated on this!" cried Fandor.</p> + +<p>"The truth is, my dear fellow, that Salad Basket of yours was not +knocked out of action by an unlucky accident—the knock-out was +intentional—was carefully planned! It was done to stop your van from +reaching the Auteuil station!... While your Basket was being repaired, +another Basket appeared at the Auteuil clearing station! This, if you +please, had been stolen! It was standing before the Palais de Justice. +Two accomplices took possession of it and drove away. The daring rascals +were suitably disguised, of course! They produced false papers at +Auteuil, got them endorsed, went through the regular forms, and carried +off the men from the detention cells, under the very nose and eyes of +the superintendent himself!"</p> + +<p>"What became of the stolen Basket?" snapped Fandor.</p> + +<p>"It was found at dawn near the fortifications, and, need I say—empty!"</p> + +<p>"So that Jules has escaped?"</p> + +<p>"As you say!..."</p> + +<p>"And the car which intentionally knocked my Salad Basket out of +action—whose was it?"</p> + +<p>Monsieur Fuselier smiled.</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's a queer affair, in fact, it may lead to the wind-up of all the +Dollon business—we may now get to the bottom of that series of +crimes!... You will never guess who is the owner of that car, +Fandor?..."</p> + +<p>"No, I am no good at guessing riddles just now ... besides, I hate +them!" Fandor was nettled, exasperated!</p> + +<p>"We got the number of the car from a witness of the smash-up; and we +have verified its correctness. Well, my dear fellow, the owner of that +car is—Thomery!"</p> + +<p>"Thomery!" gasped Fandor.</p> + +<p>"Yes. I have summoned him to appear before me—the summons has just been +issued. Between you and me, I think Thomery is guilty. When he appears +here, in, say an hour from now, I shall issue a writ of arrest against +this sugar refiner financier, and we don't know what else!"</p> + +<p>But, no sooner had Monsieur Fuselier finished his statement—a statement +which he fully expected would strike his young reporter friend dumb with +amazement—than Fandor threw himself back in his chair and roared with +laughter.</p> + +<p>The magistrate was taken aback!...</p> + +<p>"But ... what the devil do you find to laugh at in that?"</p> + +<p>Fandor had already checked his hilarity.</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's nothing! Only, Fuselier, I ask myself, if really and truly, +Monsieur Thomery, who is a very big fellow solidly built, has been able +to discover a dodge, by means of which he can leave Jacques Dollon's +imprints here, there and everywhere!"</p> + +<p>"But he does not leave Jacques Dollon's imprints, because Dollon is +living, because he came to see his sister—why, you admitted that +yourself!"</p> + +<p>"Why, of course! It's true!... Jacques Dollon is alive.... I had +forgotten.... Thomery can only be his accomplice then!" declared Fandor. +And as Monsieur Fuselier stared at him, astonished at the way he had +received the sensational news of the night, Fandor rose to take his +leave.</p> + +<p>"My dear Fuselier, will you allow me to express my opinion?..."</p> + +<p>Monsieur Fuselier nodded.</p> + +<p>"Well, I am sure, that with regard to this affair, there are more +surprises in store for us: you have not got the answer to the +riddle—not yet!"</p> + +<p>With that, Fandor smiled and bowed, and left the magistrate's room. He +quitted the Palais, half-smiling, half-serious.... What was he going to +do next?</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XXII" id="XXII"></a>XXII</h2> + +<h3>AN EXECUTION</h3> + + +<p>"Not much water about, is there?"</p> + +<p>"That's so, old 'un.... If I'd known, it's boats I'd have taken to!"</p> + +<p>"Bah! Your shoes are big enough. That's not saying it's weather for a +Christian to be out in!"</p> + +<p>"Don't you grumble, old 'un! The more it comes down cats and dogs, the +fewer stumps will be stirring out doors!... But a comrade or two will be +on the prowl, eh?"</p> + +<p>"Right-o, old bird!... Keep a lookout!... Sure he'll come this way?"</p> + +<p>"You bet your nut he will!... He got my bit of a scrawl this +morning...."</p> + +<p>"What then?"</p> + +<p>"Shut up! Shut up! Folks coming!"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The night was inky black. Rain fell with sudden violence, threshed and +driven by icy gusts of wind. The hour was late: the rue Raffet deserted +save for the two men who had ventured out into the tempestuous darkness. +They advanced with difficulty, side by side, speaking low. Rough +customers to deal with. Their faces were emaciated from excessive +drinking: their eyes gleamed, their voices were hoarse: a brutal pair! +But their movements were souple and lively: they walked with that +ungainly swagger affected by the light-fingered gentry and the criminals +of the underworld of Paris.</p> + +<p>"And what did you say in your scrawl?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, medlars! Take-ins! You know!... I didn't put my fist to it, +though!"</p> + +<p>"Who then?"</p> + +<p>"You ask that?"</p> + +<p>"I'm no wizard! If it wasn't your fist, whose then?"</p> + +<p>"My woman...."</p> + +<p>"Ernestine?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Ernestine."</p> + +<p>They struggled on through the squally darkness. Then one of the two +broke the silence.</p> + +<p>"You're not jealous, Beadle, making your girl write letters to such +folk?"</p> + +<p>That sinister hooligan, the Beadle, burst out laughing.</p> + +<p>"Jealous? Me? Jealous of Ernestine? You make me laugh, you really do, +old Beard!"</p> + +<p>But Beard did not share his companion's mirth. He leaned against a +palisade to take breath, while a little sheltered from the fierce +onslaughts of the wind.</p> + +<p>"I tell you what," he said in a gruff and threatening voice: "I don't +like such dodges—like those of this evening...."</p> + +<p>"Why so, monsieur?"</p> + +<p>"Why, because, after all, it's a comrade!"</p> + +<p>"But he's betrayed—a traitor he is!"</p> + +<p>"What do we know about it?"</p> + +<p>The Beadle nodded; reflected.</p> + +<p>"What does anyone know about it?" he said at last....</p> + +<p>"Why, when the comrades told us, weren't they surprised, one and all? +Nibet, Toulouche, even Mimile—they didn't hesitate, not one of them!... +Well then, old 'un, as all the pals were of one mind, why hesitate? +What's the use of discussing!... but, between you and me, I don't relish +it either—it bothers me to go for a pal!..."</p> + +<p>Just then the tempest redoubled its fury: it seemed to the cowering men +as though all the devils of the storm were galloping down the wind. +Somewhere there was a moon, for scurrying clouds were dancing a witches' +saraband across a faintly clearer sky. The unseen moon was mastering the +obscurity of this midnight hour.</p> + +<p>By now, the two sinister beings were nearing the rue du Docteur-Blanche. +They were passing a garden, in which tall poplars, caught by the squall, +took fantastic shapes: they were nightmare trees, terrifyingly strange.</p> + +<p>"No more to be said," remarked the Beadle. "The scene is set!... Where +is the meeting place?"</p> + +<p>"A hundred yards from there—a little before the corner of the boulevard +Montmorency...."</p> + +<p>"Good! And the trap?"</p> + +<p>"It waits for us a little further off."</p> + +<p>"Who's aboard it?"</p> + +<p>"Mimile."</p> + +<p>"That's good."</p> + +<p>The two men were now half-way along rue Raffet. The watch had begun. +Gripped by the cold they waited in silence.... The minutes passed +slowly, slowly, in the deserted street ... The Beard put his hand on the +Beadle's shoulder.... A vague sound could be heard in the distance: the +steps could be distinguished; some pedestrian was coming up the rue +Raffet in their direction.</p> + +<p>"It is he!" whispered the Beadle.</p> + +<p>"It is he!" affirmed the Beard. "He's not oversteady on his feet!"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps he's ill shod!"</p> + +<p>The two spoke low and in a jesting tone: it relieved the painful tension +of the moment—a comrade was marching to meet his death, and theirs the +hands to deal that death—but not yet: it was a reaction against their +sense of the looming tragedy of this dark hour!</p> + +<p>Now a man's advancing figure could be discerned. He came nearer. He was +plainly, by the cut of his garments, an indoor servant. The collar of +his coat was turned up: he had his hands in his pockets: he walked fast.</p> + +<p>"Hey! You down there! The gang!" cried the Beard, hailing the oncoming +figure.</p> + +<p>"Ah, it's you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, it's me, comrade."</p> + +<p>"And you too, Beadle?"</p> + +<p>"As you say...."</p> + +<p>"What do you want of me? Since my arrest and escape from the Salad +Basket, I'm not anxious to stroll about this neighbourhood—out with +it!"</p> + +<p>The Beard said in a joking tone:</p> + +<p>"You don't suspect, then? Speak out, Jules!..."</p> + +<p>Jules—for it was indeed he—shook his head.</p> + +<p>"My word, I have no idea what you want!... Who wrote to me this morning? +Ernestine?"</p> + +<p>Neither the Beadle nor Beard replied.</p> + +<p>The three men stood talking in the deserted street, bending their heads +and backs under the rain, which was now pouring harder than ever.</p> + +<p>"Come on then! Make haste!" said Jules. "Come now, tell me what's the +point—what's up—spit it out, comrades!... I don't want to be soaked to +the skin, you know!"</p> + +<p>The Beadle forced the pace: he lifted his great hairy sinewy hand, +brought it down heavily on Jules' shoulder, and in a changed voice, +harsh, rough, imperative, he commanded:</p> + +<p>"You must follow us!" Already he had his man fast. The unsuspicious +Jules did not grasp the situation in the least.</p> + +<p>"Follow you?" he asked. "As to that, certainly not!... No more walking +for me in such weather. Wait for a sunny day, say I!... But whatever is +the matter with you—eh?... What?... Why are you sticking out your jaws +at me like this? Out with it, my lambs!... Where am I to follow you?... +You won't say, Messieurs Beadle and Beard?</p> + +<p>"You won't say?..."</p> + +<p>Beard moved a step and got behind Jules unnoticed. He repeated in the +same tone, harsh, threatening:</p> + +<p>"You've got to follow us, I tell you!"</p> + +<p>Instinctively Jules tried to turn round. The Beadle's strong grip kept +him motionless. Then he understood. He was afraid.</p> + +<p>"What's come to you?" he cried in a trembling voice.</p> + +<p>The Beadle cut him short.</p> + +<p>"Enough! Will you follow us? Yes or no?"</p> + +<p>Jules was going to say "no!" but he had not the time! Quick as lightning +the Beadle flung a long scarf round his neck, stuck his knee into his +victim's back, and pulled!</p> + +<p>Jules uttered a faint groan; but, half stifled, nearly strangled, he had +not the strength to attempt the slightest self-defence.</p> + +<p>Directly he was flung backwards on the ground, where he measured his +length and lay nearly stunned, Beard jumped on him, knelt on his chest, +and pinioned him. Jules lay motionless.</p> + +<p>The Beard now began tying up the legs of their victim.</p> + +<p>"Pass me a scarf!"</p> + +<p>"There it is, old 'un!"</p> + +<p>"Very good, I am going to apply a 'Be Discreet.'"</p> + +<p>The "Be Discreet" of the Beard was a gag, which he rolled round the +servant's head in expert fashion.</p> + +<p>"Feet firm?" asked the Beard.</p> + +<p>"Oh, jolly fine!" said the Beadle. He turned his man over as though he +were a bale of goods. Now he tied his victim's hands behind his back.</p> + +<p>"Is it far to go to the jaunting car?"</p> + +<p>"No—for two sous, that's it!"</p> + +<p>A motor-car was indeed coming slowly and noiselessly along rue Raffet: +it was a sumptuous car!</p> + +<p>"And if it is not he?"</p> + +<p>"Stick him up against the bank ... dark as it is, there's every chance +he won't be seen."</p> + +<p>Rapidly, the doughty two stuck Jules against the bank at the side of the +road: the unfortunate creature had fainted. Then they took out their +cigarettes, and going a few steps away, they pretended to be sheltering +themselves in order to strike a light.</p> + +<p>They need not have taken this precaution.</p> + +<p>The car stopped in front of them. The familiar voice of Mimile was +heard:</p> + +<p>"Got the rabbit then?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, old 'un!"</p> + +<p>"Pitch it into the balloon then!"</p> + +<p>"The balloon?" questioned the Beadle. "Whatever's that?"</p> + +<p>Emilet laughed.</p> + +<p>"At times, my brothers, your ignorance, mechanically speaking, is +crass!... The balloon is the back part of my car, I'd have you know."</p> + +<p>The Beard sniggered.</p> + +<p>"Good!... Pick it up! Now, Beadle!"</p> + +<p>The two seized the body of Jules by shoulders and feet, and flung it +brutally into the limousine.</p> + +<p>A rug, negligently flung over the body of the trussed Jules, hid him +from observation.</p> + +<p>"Now we'll embark," announced Emilet.</p> + +<p>As a precaution, the young hooligan asked:</p> + +<p>"The bloke snores?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," replied the Beadle. "He is travelling in No Nightmare Land...." +The Beadle laughed.</p> + +<p>But Emilet was alarmed.</p> + +<p>"You haven't snuffed him out, have you?"</p> + +<p>"No danger of it! He's only shamming!"</p> + +<p>"Off, then!" said Emilet.</p> + +<p>They rolled away at top speed.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The bandits' lair had been well chosen by their chiefs. It was a vast +cellar, with a vaulted roof, and earthen walls bedewed with an icy +humidity. Axes, mattocks, shovels, rakes, and watering cans lay +scattered on the ground: these were worn out tools: they had not served +their purpose for many a day.</p> + +<p>The lantern, a kind of cresset protected by a wire globe, was suspended +from the roof by a string. It shed a faint and wavering light, creating +weird shadows in that far-stretching space, too vast for the +insufficient illumination.</p> + +<p>Directly beneath the cresset lantern, inside the circle of light it +threw upon the ground, a fantastic group of human creatures pressed +close to one another, drinking, shouting, chattering, singing.</p> + +<p>A clean-shaven man, whose suspicious little eyes were perpetually +blinking, turned to a young woman.</p> + +<p>"Look here, Ernestine, my beauty, are you certain the Beadle understood +that we should be waiting for him here?"</p> + +<p>Big Ernestine, who was crouching on the ground and warming her hands at +a wood fire, throwing up clouds of smoke, shrugged her shoulders.</p> + +<p>"Stop it, do! You say things over and over again, like a clock, +Nibet!... Since I've told you <i>yes</i>—<i>yes</i> it is—there now, and be +hanged to you!... You don't by chance fancy the Beadle has been made a +mouthful of, do you?"</p> + +<p>Roars of laughter greeted this. Nibet was not one of the inner circle; +he was not much of a favourite in the band of Numbers. It is true that +they reckoned him a comrade, useful, faithful, that they felt safe with +him; but they bore him a grudge because of his regular employment, +because of his position, because he was an official.... And, first and +last, his warder's uniform impressed the jail birds unpleasantly.</p> + +<p>But Nibet was not the man to allow himself to be intimidated.</p> + +<p>"All the same," said he, "I ask where the three of them have got to?... +If they know the mushroom bed, they should have been back long ago!" He +shouted to an old woman.</p> + +<p>"Eh, Toulouche, tell us the time!"</p> + +<p>But Mother Toulouche shook her head.</p> + +<p>"I haven't a watch!"</p> + +<p>There was a murmur of protestation. The seven or eight hooligans +assembled there awaiting the return of the Beard and the Beadle, sent +with Emilet to kidnap Jules, could not believe that. Mother Toulouche +had told the truth.</p> + +<p>The Sailor caught the old woman by the shoulders and shook her, and went +on shaking her.</p> + +<p>"Liar! Aren't you ashamed to be in a funk with us?... Ever since this +blessed Mother Toulouche has sold winkles and many other things, ever +since she began to make a little purse for herself, which must be a big +purse by now, a purse everyone here has sweated to fill to the brim, she +has always distrusted us!... You say you haven't a watch! I tell you, +you've got dozens of 'em!..."</p> + +<p>Big Ernestine interrupted.</p> + +<p>"It's a half-hour over the hour agreed...."</p> + +<p>A shudder ran through the assembly: Nibet, finger on lip, made a sign +that they were to listen.</p> + +<p>Then, in the mushroom bed, no longer in use, which the band of Numbers +had recently adopted as their meeting place, a profound silence fell....</p> + +<p>"There they are!" said Nibet.</p> + +<p>Big Ernestine leaped up, left the fire, advanced to the far end of the +cellar, and imitated the cry of a screech owl to perfection. There was a +similar cry in response.</p> + +<p>"It's all right. They're here!" she said. She returned to the fire and +sat down. But Nibet seized the girl and forced her to get up again.</p> + +<p>"Go along with you! Quick march!" he said roughly.</p> + +<p>She protested. Nibet stopped her.</p> + +<p>"Oh, we can't stand listening to you!... Ho there, Sailor!... Come +here!... Sit down on this plank! You, the Beadle, and me—we're to be +the judges.... Beard makes the accusation: and, if her heart tells her +to, Ernestine will defend him."</p> + +<p>"I'd rather spit at the tell-tale!... You can tear him to bits as far as +I'm concerned!" cried the girl. "There's nothing disgusts me so much as +a tell-tale!"</p> + +<p>The hooligans crowded round big Ernestine. They applauded her +ironically; for they all knew that, once upon a time, she had been +strongly suspected of having dealings with, what they called, "The dirty +lot at the Bobby's Nest."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Silence fell once more. They could hear the rasp of the rope unrolling +from a hand windlass attached to an enormous bucket. This was the +primitive lift.</p> + +<p>Moments passed. The hooligans had formed a circle beneath the black hole +where the bucket moved up and down.</p> + +<p>"It goes, old Beard?" questioned Nibet, gazing upwards.</p> + +<p>"It goes, old bloke!"</p> + +<p>"Brought the game?"</p> + +<p>"That's what we're sending down now!..."</p> + +<p>"That's a bit of all right!"</p> + +<p>Sailor now seized the trussed Jules from the bucket and flung him on the +ground.</p> + +<p>"Damaged goods, that—eh?" he laughed evilly.</p> + +<p>The Beadle, Beard, and Emilet were coming down in turn. The group below +bent curiously over the prisoner.</p> + +<p>"He's soft—that sort is!" cried Ernestine. And tapping him on the face +with her foot, big Ernestine tried to make Jules show signs of life. +Beard dropped out of the bucket and stopped the game.</p> + +<p>"Let's see, Ernestine?... Stop it now!"</p> + +<p>After gripping the hand of each comrade in turn, after hugging a bottle +and draining it in a long draught, emptying it to the dregs, Beard flung +it aside.</p> + +<p>"Let's get to work—no time to waste!... If we finish him off, we'll +have to get rid of him before morning!"</p> + +<p>Sailor lifted Jules with the aid of two comrades. They propped him +against a massive pillar of wood which supported the cellar roof. They +bound their wretched victim to it with strong cords.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, Ernestine was unwinding the gag.</p> + +<p>"Take your places on the tribunal!" commanded Nibet.</p> + +<p>"And you others, a glass of pick-me-up for the fellow!"</p> + +<p>The pick-me-up intended to restore Jules to consciousness was brought by +Mother Toulouche, under the form of a large earthen pot full of cold +water. She dashed the water in the prisoner's face.</p> + +<p>Jules slowly opened his eyes and regained his wits, amidst an ominous +silence. The band watched his return to life with evil smiles: they +quietly watched his pallid face turn a livid green with terror.</p> + +<p>The wretched creature could not utter a syllable. He stared wildly at +those about him, his friends of yesterday, at those seated on the mock +judgment bench who, crouching forward, were observing him with sardonic +smiles.</p> + +<p>Nibet put a question.</p> + +<p>"You hear and understand us, Jules?"</p> + +<p>"Pity!" howled the victim.</p> + +<p>Nibet was indifferent to the cry.</p> + +<p>"He understands!... For my part, I am all for keeping to a proper +procedure.... I would not have agreed to sit in judgment on him if he +had been unable to defend himself.... We don't act that way down here!"</p> + +<p>Turning to his acolytes for signs of their approval, he continued:</p> + +<p>"Beard! The word is with you! Let us hear why he has been brought up to +judgment!... Tell us what he is accused of!... Bring up all there is +against him!"</p> + +<p>Beard, who was marching up and down between the hooligan tribunal and +the accused, who was half dead, and incapable of making a rational +statement, stopped, squared himself with an air of satisfaction, and +began his speech for the prosecution.</p> + +<p>"Jules, has anyone ever done you any harm here?... Has anyone played +cowardly tricks on you?... Set traps to catch you in?... Have you ever +been cheated out of your fair share of the spoil?... Is there anything +you can bring up against us?... No?... Well, here's what we have against +you ... it's not worth while lying about it either!... You are the one +who has taken the wind out of our sails over the Danidoff affair ... do +you confess that?"</p> + +<p>In a voice barely intelligible Jules gasped out:</p> + +<p>"Beard ... I don't understand you!... I have done nothing—nothing.... +What have you against me?..."</p> + +<p>Beard took his time.</p> + +<p>Planted before the prisoner, with hip stuck out and hand in pocket, the +other hand raised in tragic invocation towards his comrades:</p> + +<p>"You have heard?... Monsieur does not understand!... He has not the +pluck to be open and aboveboard!"</p> + +<p>Turning again to the wretched captive, he continued:</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm going to explain ... it was you, wasn't it, who had to put +through the robbery of the lady's jewels?... Well, do you know what you +did? Do you want me to tell you?... Instead of lending us a hand as was +promised and sworn, you kept the cake for yourself!... In other words, +you, and some of your sort, serving at the ball, put your heads +together, and shut up the lady in the room they found her in; and that +way, you got out of sharing with us!... So we have been done in the eye +over that deal!... The proof that you have comrades we know nothing +about is, that yesterday when you were done in, they found a way to get +you out of the Salad Basket!... It wasn't us!... But to return to the +Danidoff robbery ... oh, you must have laughed then!... But everyone has +his turn ... you are going to laugh on the wrong side of your mouth +now!... Do you know what they call it—what you've done—dared to do?"</p> + +<p>In the same strangled voice, Jules managed to get out the words:</p> + +<p>"But it's not true!... I swear to you ..."</p> + +<p>Beard did not listen.</p> + +<p>"There's not one of our lot who would give me the lie!... To behave like +that is treachery!... You have betrayed the Numbers. There it is in a +nutshell!... What have you to reply to that?"</p> + +<p>For the third time, Jules repeated in a hoarse whisper, for he felt life +was gradually leaving him: an awful fear gripped him, he saw he was +completely done for.</p> + +<p>"I swear I did not do that!... I didn't rob the princess.... I don't +even know who did!"</p> + +<p>Jules was, perhaps, speaking the truth, but he took the worst way to +defend himself.... If he had had pluck and wit enough to take the +Beard's accusation with a high hand, if he had met threats with violent +denial and assertion, it is quite possible he might have made an +impression in his favour; but he cried for pity and for mercy from men +who were pitiless!</p> + +<p>He was afraid!... His fear was shown by the convulsive trembling which +agitated his wretched body, by his ghastly pallor, by the cold drops of +sweat rolling down his forehead.... He was no longer a man: it was a +lamentable bit of human wreckage the hooligans had before them!... And +the more lamentable this wreck showed itself to be, the less worthy of +their interest it seemed!</p> + +<p>When Jules gasped out once again:</p> + +<p>"I swear to you it was not I! No!... I did not do it!"</p> + +<p>The hooligans, moved by a common impulse, rose, indignant, furious, mad +with rage.</p> + +<p>"That's a good one, that is!" yelled Nibet, who, beside himself with +rage, suddenly forgot his avowed respect for judicial forms.</p> + +<p>"Since he is determined to tell lies, and hasn't the pluck to say what +he's done, there's only one thing for us to do, and that's to stop his +mouth up!... Ernestine, put the plug back!"</p> + +<p>And as the girl once more rolled the scarf round and round the head of +the miserable Jules, Nibet turned to his comrades.</p> + +<p>"Now then? One hasn't any need to waste more time over it!... We know +all the story—not so?... It's settled, I tell you!... A fellow who has +done what he has done, what does he deserve?... You answer first, +Mother Toulouche, since you are the oldest?..."</p> + +<p>Mother Toulouche stretched out a trembling hand, as though calling on +Heaven to witness an oath.</p> + +<p>"I," said the old woman, with a wicked gleam in her eyes. "I don't +hesitate!... Comrades who flinch, sneaks who betray, get rid of them, +say I!... I condemn him to death!..."</p> + +<p>The old woman's sentence was greeted with loud applause.</p> + +<p>Nibet resumed.</p> + +<p>"It is said!... It is unanimous!... Make a quick finish, my lads!... +Since each has been injured, let each take his revenge! I say: Death by +the hammer!"</p> + +<p>In that smoke-thickened air rose a chorus of hate and of vengeance.</p> + +<p>"Death by the hammer! Death by the hammer!"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>In that noisome lair of the bandits a horrible scene ensued.</p> + +<p>Mother Toulouche went groping in a dark corner. She searched for, and +found, a blacksmith's hammer. She lifted it with trembling hands, and +planting herself in front of the victim, more dead than alive, she said +in a menacing voice:</p> + +<p>"You did harm to the Numbers! You wronged them! Here goes for that +then!"</p> + +<p>The hammer described a quarter of a circle in the air and descended in a +smashing blow on the wretched victim's face!</p> + +<p>The awful punishment had begun!</p> + +<p>According to age, one after another, the hooligans passed on the hammer, +and, in a blind passion of hate, beat followed beat on the agonising +body of Jules!</p> + +<p>At last the terrible agony was over and done! The passion of hate, the +lust for revenge had burnt themselves out. Jules had expiated the crime +they had imputed to him!</p> + +<p>The band were the victims of a paralysing fatigue. Emilet flung the +blood-stained hammer into a far corner of their den.</p> + +<p>"Well done!" said he. "He has paid the price!"</p> + +<p>Emilet's eyes fell on Nibet. He was leaning against the wall, and, with +folded arms, was watching the scene in which he had taken no part. +Walking up to the warder, Emilet demanded:</p> + +<p>"Ho! Ho! You backed out of it, did you, my boy?... You didn't have a +throw, did you?... No?..."</p> + +<p>Nibet grinned sardonically.</p> + +<p>"Don't talk rubbish, Emilet!... If I have stood aside, I had my reasons +for doing so.... We haven't done with Jules yet!... Not by a long +chalk!... Now that he's been killed, he's got to be got rid of—isn't +that true?... Look at yourselves, my lambs! You are covered with red!... +It will take you all of an hour to make yourselves presentable!... Now, +look at me! I'm neat and clean ... and I have a plan ... a famous plan +to rid us of that corpse there! Now, just you stir your stumps, +Emilet!... I am going off to make preparations!... I'll give you ten +minutes to make yourself fit to be seen ... it's we two are to be the +undertakers; and I swear to you, that we will give them no end of +trouble to the curiosity mongers at Police Headquarters!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XXIII" id="XXIII"></a>XXIII</h2> + +<h3>FROM VAUGIRARD TO MONTMARTRE</h3> + + +<p>On the boulevard du Palais, Jérôme Fandor looked at his watch: it was +half an hour after noon.</p> + +<p>"The hour for copy! Courage! I will go to <i>La Capitale</i>."</p> + +<p>Scarcely had he put foot in the large hall when the editorial secretary +called:</p> + +<p>"There you are, Fandor!... At last!... That's a good thing!... Whatever +have you been up to since yesterday evening? I got them to telephone to +you twice, but they could not get on to you, try as they might. My dear +fellow, you really mustn't absent yourself without giving us warning."</p> + +<p>Fandor looked jovial: certainly not repentant.</p> + +<p>"Oh, say at once that I've been in the country!... But seriously, what +did you want me for? Is there anything new?..."</p> + +<p>"A most mysterious scandal!..."</p> + +<p>"Another?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. You know Thomery, the sugar refiner?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know him!"</p> + +<p>"Well—he has disappeared!... No one knows where he is!"</p> + +<p>Fandor took the news stolidly.</p> + +<p>"You don't astonish me: you must be prepared for anything from those +sort of people!..."</p> + +<p>It was the turn of the secretary to be surprised at Fandor's calmness.</p> + +<p>"But, old man, I am telling you of a disappearance which is causing any +amount of talk in Paris!... You don't seem to grasp the situation! +Surely you know that Thomery represents one of the biggest fortunes +known?"</p> + +<p>"I know he is worth a lot."</p> + +<p>"His flight will bring ruin to many."</p> + +<p>"Others will probably be enriched by it!"</p> + +<p>"Probably. That is not our concern. What we are after are details about +his disappearance. You are free to-day, are you not? Will you take the +affair in hand then? I would put off the appearance of the paper for +half an hour rather than not have details to report which would throw +some light on this extraordinary affair."</p> + +<p>Then, as Fandor did not show the slightest intention of going in search +of material for a Thomery article, the secretary laughed.</p> + +<p>"Why don't you start on the trail, Fandor?... My word, I don't recognise +a Fandor who is not off like a zigzag of lightning on such a reporting +job as this!... We want illuminating details, my dear man!"</p> + +<p>"You think I haven't got any, then?... Be easy: this evening's issue of +<i>La Capitale</i> will have all the details you could desire on the +vanishing of Thomery."</p> + +<p>Thereupon, Fandor turned on his heel without further explanation, and +went towards one of his colleagues, who went by the title of "Financier +of the paper." The Financier had an official manner, and had an office +of his own, the walls of which were carefully padded, for Marville—that +was his name—frequently received visits from important personages.</p> + +<p>Fandor began questioning him on the subject of Thomery's disappearance.</p> + +<p>"Tell me, my dear fellow, what is happening in the financial world, now +that Thomery has disappeared."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Where is the money going—all the coppers?"</p> + +<p>"The coppers?"</p> + +<p>"Why, yes! I fancy that when an old fellow like that does the vanishing +trick, there are terrible results on the Bourse? Will you be kind +enough to explain what does happen in such a case?"</p> + +<p>Very much flattered by Fandor's request, Marville cried:</p> + +<p>"But, my boy, you are asking for nothing less than a course of political +economy—but I cannot do that—on the spur of the moment!... State +precisely what you want to know."</p> + +<p>"What I want to know is just this: Who loses money through Thomery's +disappearance?"</p> + +<p>The Financier raised his hands to Heaven.</p> + +<p>"But everybody! Everybody!... Thomery was a daring fellow: without him +his business is nothing!... There was a big failure on the market +to-day."</p> + +<p>"Good, but who gains by it?"</p> + +<p>"How, who gains by it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. I presume Thomery's disappearance must be profitable to someone? +Can you think of any people to whose interest it would be that this old +fellow should disappear?"</p> + +<p>The Financier reflected.</p> + +<p>"Those who gain money by the disappearance of Thomery—only the +speculators, I should say. Suppose now that a Monsieur Tartempion had +bought Thomery shares at ninety francs. To-day these shares would not be +worth more than seventy francs: Tartempion loses money. But let us +suppose some financier speculates on the probable fall of Thomery +shares, and has sold to clients speculating on the rise of these shares; +these shares to be delivered in a fortnight, at a price of ninety +francs. If Thomery was still there, his shares would be worth, possibly, +the ninety francs, possibly more. In the first case, the financier's +deal would amount to nothing: in the second case, his deal would be a +deplorable one, because he would be obliged to deliver at an inferior +price, and would be responsible for the difference...."</p> + +<p>"Whilst Thomery dead ..."</p> + +<p>"Dead—no! But simply in flight, his shares fall to nothing, and this +same financier may buy at sixty francs which he must deliver at ninety +francs in fifteen days. In that case he has done excellent business."</p> + +<p>"Excellent, certainly ... and ... tell me, my dear Marville, do you know +if there has been any such deal in Thomery shares on a large scale?"</p> + +<p>"Ah! You ask me more than I can tell you now ... but that would be known +at the Bourse."</p> + +<p>No doubt Jérôme Fandor was going to continue his interrogation, but +there was a great disturbance in the editorial room near by. They were +shouting:</p> + +<p>"Fandor! Fandor!"</p> + +<p>The editorial secretary entered the Financier's room, and, catching +sight of Fandor, he cried:</p> + +<p>"What's the meaning of this? What are you up to here? I told you this +Thomery affair was important.... Be off for the news as quick as you +can.... Here is the <i>Havas</i>. It seems they have just found Thomery's +body in a little apartment in the rue Lecourbe."</p> + +<p>Fandor forced himself to appear very interested.</p> + +<p>"Already! The police have been quick!... I also had an idea that that +Thomery had more than simply disappeared!"</p> + +<p>"You had that idea?" asked the startled secretary.</p> + +<p>"Yes, my dear fellow, I had—absolutely!"</p> + +<p>After a silence, Fandor added:</p> + +<p>"All the same, I am going out to get news. In half an hour's time, I +will telephone details of the death. Does the <i>Havas</i> say whether it is +a crime or a suicide?"</p> + +<p>"No. Evidently the police know nothing."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"Monsieur Havard, I am delighted to meet you!... Surely now, you will +not refuse me a little interview?"</p> + +<p>"Not I, my dear Fandor! I know only too well that you would not take +'no' for an answer."</p> + +<p>"And you are right. I beg of you to give me some details, not as regards +Thomery's death, for I have already made my little investigation +touching that; but as to how the police managed to find the poor man's +body."</p> + +<p>"In the easiest way in the world. Monsieur Thomery's servants were very +much astonished yesterday morning, when they could not find their master +in the house.</p> + +<p>"After eleven, Thomery's absence from the Bourse gave rise to +disquieting rumors. He had some big deals to put through, therefore his +absence could only be accounted for in one way—he had had an accident +of some sort.</p> + +<p>"Naturally enough, they warned Headquarters, and at once I suspected +there might be a little scandal of some sort.... You guess that I +immediately went myself to Thomery's house?... I examined his papers; +and I found by chance three receipts for the rent of a flat, in the name +of Monsieur Durand, rue Lecourbe. One of them was of recent date. I, of +course, sent one of my men to ascertain who lived there! This man +learned from the portress that there was a new tenant there, who had not +yet moved in with his furniture; but who, the evening before, had +brought in a heavy trunk.... My man went up to this flat, and had the +door opened. You know under what conditions he found Thomery's dead +body."</p> + +<p>"And you did not find indications which went to show why Monsieur +Thomery committed suicide?"</p> + +<p>"Committed suicide?... When a financier disappears, my Fandor, one is +always tempted to cry 'suicide'; but, this time, I confess to you that I +do not think it was anything of the kind!..."</p> + +<p>"Because?"</p> + +<p>"Because"—and Monsieur Havard bent his head. "Well, when I reached the +scene of the crime I immediately thought that we were not face to face +with a suicide. A man who wishes to kill himself, and to kill himself +because of money affairs, a man like Thomery, does not feel the +necessity of committing suicide in a little flat rented under a false +name, and in front of a trunk, which you know, do you not, belonged to +Mademoiselle Dollon! One might swear that everything was arranged +expressly to make anyone believe that Thomery had strangled himself, +after having stolen the trunk, for some unknown reason!"</p> + +<p>"You did not find any kind of clue?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed! And you know it as well as I do, for I have no doubt the +extraordinary event has been the gossip of the neighbourhood. On the +cover of the trunk we have once again found an imprint, a very clear +impression—the famous imprint of Jacques Dollon!..."</p> + +<p>"And you found nothing else?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, in the dust on the floor, we found the marks of steps, numerous +foot marks: we have made tracings of them."</p> + +<p>"My steps, evidently," thought Fandor. But what he said was:</p> + +<p>"What, in short, is your view of the general position, Monsieur Havard?"</p> + +<p>"I am very much bothered about it. For my part, I think we are once +again faced by another of Jacques Dollon's crimes. This wretch, after +having attempted to assassinate his sister, has learned that we were +going to search mademoiselle's room. He then made arrangements to steal +this trunk, by pretending to be a police inspector, as you know; then he +brought the trunk to this flat, examined its contents thoroughly, and +having some special interest in the sugar refiner's death, he managed to +get him to come to the flat, and there assassinated him, leaving his +dead body in front of this trunk, where it was bound to be seen; all +this he did in order to tangle the traces and perplex those on his +track...."</p> + +<p>"But how do you explain the fact of Jacques Dollon being so simple as to +leave the imprints of his hand everywhere?... Deuce take it, this +individual is at liberty: he reads the papers.... He knows that Monsieur +Bertillon is tracing him!... So great a criminal would certainly be on +his guard!"</p> + +<p>"Of course! Such a successful criminal as Dollon has shown himself to +be, must have resources at his disposal, which allow him to laugh at the +police. He does not trouble to cover his tracks; it is enough for him +that he should escape us."</p> + +<p>As Fandor could not suppress a smile, the chief of the detective force +added:</p> + +<p>"Oh, we shall finish by arresting Dollon, have no fear! So far he has +quite extraordinary luck in his favour, but the luck will turn, and we +shall put our hand on his collar!"</p> + +<p>"I certainly hope you may. But what are you going to do now?"</p> + +<p>The two had stopped on the edge of the pavement, and were talking +without paying any attention to the passers-by who rubbed shoulders with +them. The well-known journalist and the important police official were +unrecognised.</p> + +<p>Monsieur Havard took Fandor's arm.</p> + +<p>"Look here, come along with me, Fandor? Just the time to telephone to a +police station, and then I will take you with me to make a fresh +investigation."</p> + +<p>"Where!"</p> + +<p>"At Jacques Dollon's studio. I have kept the key of the house, and I +wish to see whether I can find any other rent receipts made out in the +name of Durand. Though I can see how Dollon inveigled Dollon into a +trap, I do not understand how it came about that Thomery paid the rent +of that trap. There is some subtle contrivance of Dollon's here; I want +to get to the bottom of it.... Will you come to rue Norvins?"</p> + +<p>"I jolly well will!" cried Fandor.</p> + +<p>The chief of the detective force telephoned to Headquarters, whilst +Fandor got into communication with <i>La Capitale</i>. He sent on a report of +the Thomery case up to that moment.</p> + +<p>Quitting the police station, the two men hailed a cab, and were driven +to the rue Norvins.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>As far as they could tell, the artist's house had not been entered since +Elizabeth Dollon's departure.</p> + +<p>The neglected garden, with its rank growth of grass and weeds, gave an +added air of melancholy to the deserted house.</p> + +<p>Monsieur Havard put the key in the lock of the front door.</p> + +<p>"Don't you think, Fandor, it gives one a queer feeling to enter a house +where an unaccountable crime has been committed?" The key grated in the +lock, and Monsieur Havard added:</p> + +<p>"In spite of oneself, there is the feeling that some terrifying spectre +is lurking within!"</p> + +<p>"Or a ghost!" said Fandor.</p> + +<p>And as the door was unlocked and opened, our journalist asked:</p> + +<p>"Where shall we start this domiciliary visit?"</p> + +<p>"Let us begin with the studio," replied Monsieur Havard, mounting to the +first story.</p> + +<p>No sooner had they entered the room, than a double cry escaped from the +two men.</p> + +<p>"Oh!..."</p> + +<p>"Great Heaven!..."</p> + +<p>In the very middle of the studio, there was the rigid body of a man +hanging.</p> + +<p>They rushed forward....</p> + +<p>"Dead!" was Monsieur Havard's cry.</p> + +<p>"Horribly dead!" echoed Fandor.</p> + +<p>"Shall we never lay hands on those wretches?" Monsieur Havard stared, +horrified, at the hanging corpse. He brought a chair, grasped the strong +sharp knife he always carried about him, and, aided by Fandor, he cut +the rope, laid the hanged man flat on the floor, and proceeded to +examine the miserable remnant of a human being.</p> + +<p>The face was swollen, gashed, crushed....</p> + +<p>"The hands have been dipped in vitriol—they did not want finger prints +taken—it is—it is Jacques Dollon!"</p> + +<p>Fandor shook his head.</p> + +<p>"Jacques Dollon? Of course, it isn't!... If it were Dollon, he would not +hang himself here.... Why should he hang himself?"</p> + +<p>Monsieur Havard remarked:</p> + +<p>"He has not hanged himself. Again the stage has been set!... I could +swear the man had been killed by blows from a hammer and hanged +afterwards!... It seems to me, that if death had been caused through +strangulation, there would have been marks round the neck.... But see, +Fandor, the rope has hardly made a mark."</p> + +<p>"No, the man was dead when they strung him up."</p> + +<p>"It is of secondary importance!" remarked Fandor, who was preoccupied.</p> + +<p>"You are mistaken: it matters a great deal! It decidedly looks as if +Dollon had accomplices, who wished to be rid of him."</p> + +<p>Fandor shook his head.</p> + +<p>"It is not Dollon! It cannot be Dollon!"</p> + +<p>"Look at the vitriolised hands—that was a precaution."</p> + +<p>"I say, as you did just now: it's like a set piece—a bit of slag +assassins' stage craft."</p> + +<p>"I say, in Dollon's house, we have found Dollon at home!"</p> + +<p>Fandor was not convinced. He felt certain Dollon had lied in the Dépôt.</p> + +<p>"Well, Elizabeth Dollon can settle the question for us. There may be +some physical peculiarity, some mark by which she can identify her +brother's body!"</p> + +<p>But Fandor was examining the body very carefully. Suddenly he rose from +his stooping posture, exclaiming:</p> + +<p>"I know who it is!"</p> + +<p>"Who?"</p> + +<p>"Jules! None other than Madame Bourrat's servant, Jules!... That is to +say, an accomplice whom the bandits we are after wanted to be rid of. He +might give them away when brought up for examination. That was why they +managed his escape: they killed him afterwards, because he had served +their turn, and was now an encumbrance."</p> + +<p>"Your explanation is plausible, Fandor; but how about the truth of it?"</p> + +<p>"This proves the truth of it!" cried Fandor, pointing to a cicatrice on +the back of the neck of the murdered man: it was the clear mark of where +an abscess had been.</p> + +<p>"I am certain I noticed a similar mark on the neck of Jules. He sat in +front of me the other day, and I particularly noticed this mark. The +dead man is Jules. I am certain it is Jules!"</p> + +<p>Monsieur Havard was silent. Presently he said:</p> + +<p>"If it is Jules ... it must be admitted that we are no further forward!"</p> + +<p>Fandor was about to utter a protest, when there was a knock on the +studio door. Startled, the two men looked at each other anxiously.</p> + +<p>"It can only be one of the force," murmured Monsieur Havard. "I told +them I was coming here with you, and that they were to send for me if +necessary."</p> + +<p>The two men walked to the door. Monsieur Havard opened it. There stood a +cyclist member of the police force. He saluted respectfully, and told +his chief that he had come with a message from Michel.</p> + +<p>"The message?"</p> + +<p>"That the arrest is successful, chief."</p> + +<p>"Which?"</p> + +<p>"That of the band of Numbers, chief."</p> + +<p>"Good! Whom have you bagged?"</p> + +<p>"Almost the whole lot, chief!"</p> + +<p>"That is to say?"</p> + +<p>"Mother Toulouche, Beard, Mimile, otherwise Emilet, and the Cooper—and +a few more whose names are not known."</p> + +<p>Fandor said, laughing:</p> + +<p>"Not Cranajour, I am certain."</p> + +<p>"No. Cranajour has escaped," answered the policeman.</p> + +<p>Turning to Monsieur Havard, he asked:</p> + +<p>"You have no instructions, chief?"</p> + +<p>"No. Tell me, how did the capture go?"</p> + +<p>"Perfectly, chief. They were assembled in Mother Toulouche's store. They +went like lambs."</p> + +<p>"Good!... Good!"</p> + +<p>Monsieur Havard gave the policeman some orders. The cyclist leaped into +the saddle and disappeared.</p> + +<p>"How did you guess that Cranajour was still at liberty?" asked Monsieur +Havard.</p> + +<p>Fandor smiled.</p> + +<p>"Good business! You take me to be more stupid than I am. It is +Cranajour's information which has enabled you to arrest the band of +Numbers. Consequently!..."</p> + +<p>"Cranajour's information? You are mad, Fandor!... Whatever makes you +imagine that Cranajour belongs to our force?"</p> + +<p>Fandor looked Monsieur Havard straight in the eye and said coolly:</p> + +<p>"Juve has never told me that he had sent in his resignation!"</p> + +<p>Monsieur Havard looked searchingly at our journalist, before remarking:</p> + +<p>"Come now! What is this you are telling me? Poor Juve?..."</p> + +<p>Fandor wished to save the chief of the detective department from telling +useless falsehoods.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur Havard! Monsieur Havard! Interrogate the members of the band +of Numbers, and don't trouble about how I got my information ... but, be +sure of one thing, there are dead men of whom I could tell tales, of +whose existence I am as well aware of as you yourself!"</p> + +<p>As the chief stared at the journalist, looking more and more astonished, +Fandor added:</p> + +<p>"And I do not refer to Dollon! I am referring to Juve, to my dear friend +Juve, the king of detectives!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XXIV" id="XXIV"></a>XXIV</h2> + +<h3>AT SAINT LAZARE</h3> + + +<p>"Hop along there! See if you can't hurry up a bit!"</p> + +<p>The warder opened the door of Elizabeth's Dollon's cell and pushed in an +old woman—a horrid looking creature.</p> + +<p>"In with you!" commanded the warder in a harsh tone. "You are to stay +here till to-morrow. We will find another place for you when we get +instructions...."</p> + +<p>Poor Elizabeth Dollon stared miserably at this strange companion which +Fate, in the person of a warder, had thrust on her.</p> + +<p>The old woman stared with no little curiosity at the pale, sad girl.... +Silence fell for a few minutes, then the new prisoner asked, in a tone +of rough familiarity:</p> + +<p>"What's your name?"</p> + +<p>"I call myself Elizabeth!"</p> + +<p>"Don't know it!... Elizabeth, who?..."</p> + +<p>"Elizabeth Dollon...."</p> + +<p>The old woman rose from the corner of the mattress she had seated +herself on.</p> + +<p>"True? You're Elizabeth Dollon?... Well, that's funny! Have you been +nabbed long?..."</p> + +<p>"You ask if it is long since I was...?"</p> + +<p>"Nabbed!... Taken!... Arrested!... Eh?"</p> + +<p>Elizabeth nodded in the affirmative. It seemed to her that an infinity +of time had passed since her imprisonment at Saint Lazare.</p> + +<p>"I was nabbed last night. If you want to know my name, I'm called Mother +Toulouche. They say I'm one of the band of Numbers, and that I receive +stolen goods! Lies! That's well understood!"</p> + +<p>Elizabeth had no desire to go into such an unsavoury question. This +horrid old woman rather frightened her; but, such had been her distress +and fears since she had been a prisoner, that it was a relief not to be +quite alone; to have even this old creature to speak to was better than +solitary confinement.</p> + +<p>In her character of old jail-bird, Mother Toulouche made herself quickly +at home.</p> + +<p>"Moved to-morrow, they say I'm to be! Pity! At bottom you're not one of +the scurvy sort, but you must be here to play spy on me, for all +that!... When do you go out? Are you long for Saint Lago?" Alas, how +could Elizabeth tell?</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"I like being a barrister," thought Fandor, as he entered Saint Lazare. +"For the last hour I have felt a different person, much more serious, +more sure of myself, not to say, more eloquent!... I must be eloquent, +since I have succeeded in persuading my friend, Maître Dubard, to get +himself appointed officially as Mademoiselle Dollon's counsel; then to +obtain a permit of communication, and to hand this same permit over to +me, so that his identification papers, safely tucked away in my +portfolio, make of me the most indisputable of Maîtres Dubard!"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Fandor might well congratulate himself! By means of this ruse—his own +idea—he was enabled to see Elizabeth, not in the prison parlour, but in +a special cell, and without a witness. As Fandor crossed the threshold +of the sordid building, he said to himself:</p> + +<p>"I am Maître Dubard, visiting his client, in order to prepare her +defence!"</p> + +<p>He easily accomplished the necessary formalities, and, at last, he saw +himself being conducted by a morose warder to a little parlour, scantily +furnished with a table and a few stools.</p> + +<p>"Please be seated, maître," said the surly fellow. "I'll fetch your +client along!"</p> + +<p>Fandor put down his portfolio, but remained standing, anxious, all +aquiver at the thought that he was about to see his dear Elizabeth +appear between two warders, just like a common prisoner!</p> + +<p>"In a moment she will be here," thought he.... But she must on no +account recognise him on entering! By an exclamation she might betray +his identity and complicate things! Therefore, Fandor feigned to be +absorbed in a newspaper he unfolded and raised, so as to hide his face +from the approaching pair. The door opened.</p> + +<p>"Come now! Go in!..." growled the warder. "Maître, when you wish to +leave, you have only to ring."</p> + +<p>The door fell to, heavily, behind the warder.</p> + +<p>Fandor made a sharp movement. He stood revealed. He hurried up to +Elizabeth.</p> + +<p>"Oh, tell me how you are, Mademoiselle Elizabeth!" he cried.</p> + +<p>But the girl was struck dumb: she grew suddenly pale, and made no reply.</p> + +<p>"Elizabeth! Elizabeth! Will you not give me your hand even? You do not +understand why I am here? I had to see you, speak to you without a +witness ... that's why I have passed myself off as an advocate!"</p> + +<p>The startled girl was regaining her self-control. Fandor was gazing at +her with frankly admiring eyes.</p> + +<p>"Poor Elizabeth! How I have made you suffer!"</p> + +<p>The poor girl's eyes filled with tears.</p> + +<p>"Why have you betrayed me?" she demanded in a voice trembling with +restrained emotion. "Oh, how could you get me arrested? You, who well +know I am not guilty?"</p> + +<p>"You really believe I have betrayed you? You actually credited me with +that?"</p> + +<p>These two young people, meeting in a prison parlour under such tragic +circumstances, were hurt and even angry with each other.</p> + +<p>Elizabeth Dollon went on:</p> + +<p>"Why did you not tell me that you had found on that piece of soap traces +of my brother's finger-marks? Why did you accuse me of having received a +visit from him, when you yourself had proved that he was dead?"</p> + +<p>Fandor took Elizabeth's two little hands in his and pressed them long +and tenderly.</p> + +<p>"My dear Elizabeth, when I engineered this theatrical stroke in the +presence of the examining magistrate, in order to secure your arrest, +believe me, I had no time to warn you of what I meant to do.... Ah, if I +could have warned you—but it would have only disturbed you to no good +purpose, besides—your being really taken by surprise was a help—there +could not be any idea of collusion.... Of course, you want the answer to +this riddle? You shall have it—that is why I am here.... Don't you +remember, Elizabeth, that on the evening before the fatal day you told +me that I had twice rung you up on the telephone? And that each time you +answered the call you could not find me at the end of the line?... You +cannot imagine what I felt when I heard you say that! I never +telephoned! I never telephoned to the convent!</p> + +<p>"The obvious conclusion was, that the individuals who, for some reason, +did not wish to make themselves known, did wish to keep track of you, +and to assure themselves that you were still at the convent, rue de la +Glacière...."</p> + +<p>Fandor's voice trembled a little, as he went on:</p> + +<p>"And I was at once afraid, my poor child, that these people who were +pursuing you, might be the very same who had got into Madame Bourrat's +house, and had tried to kill you.... Ah, do you not see how greatly it +hurt and troubled me to think that I had taken you to the convent, and +had there placed you in security—as I thought—but where you were far +from being safe?"</p> + +<p>Again Fandor took Elizabeth's hands in his.</p> + +<p>"You do understand now, dear child, why I had you arrested?... I felt +you would be safe here.... You see, I could not get your persecutors +imprisoned and so prevent them from getting at you. To imprison you was +the alternative: you are better guarded here than elsewhere."</p> + +<p>Elizabeth smiled a little smile when she saw how moved Fandor was.</p> + +<p>"But," replied she, "there is the other point! You certainly told me +that you were sure my brother was killed in prison—in his cell!"</p> + +<p>"Certainly, I did! The assassination of your brother was premeditated. +If the criminals have had accomplices at the Dépôt, and such there +certainly were, they have been bought over little by little.... The fact +of your brother's murder is fresh in the memory of the police, of all, +therefore, a special watch is kept over you. I ascertained that it would +be so, and Fuselier himself assured me of it: there is a warder +specially told off to keep a close guard over you, a safe man, known to +be beyond suspicion.... No, Elizabeth, do believe me, if I was the cause +of your horrified surprise the other day, and then of your imprisonment, +I wished to be sure that you were as safe as it was possible to be; +then, freed from such intense anxiety, I felt I should be at liberty to +continue my investigations.... Do say you forgive me!"</p> + +<p>All Elizabeth could say was:</p> + +<p>"But why not have warned me?... I still can't quite see!..."</p> + +<p>"Why, because, I only thought of the plan at the last moment! Also, +because I feared you might not be able to act surprise naturally +enough!... It was absolutely—yes, absolutely necessary—that everyone +should take your arrest seriously.... Surely, Elizabeth, you can +understand that!"</p> + +<p>He repeated his plea.</p> + +<p>"Do, do say you forgive me, Elizabeth!"</p> + +<p>The smile returned to Elizabeth's lips: she was much moved.</p> + +<p>"Indeed, I do... You are always my very good friend: you think of +everything, and you watch over me as if ..."</p> + +<p>Intimidated, blushing hotly, she stopped short, then changed the +conversation.</p> + +<p>"Do tell me if you have heard anything fresh!"</p> + +<p>Fandor returned to his normal self also. He had sworn to himself that he +would not tell Elizabeth he loved her, until he had succeeded in +unravelling the tangled skein of the terrible Dollon affair.</p> + +<p>"I shall speak," thought he, "when she is once more at peace and free, +when she is out of danger. I do not want her to consent to love me just +because I have devoted myself to her brother's case. Elizabeth shall be +my wife, please God; but only if I deserve her, if I can win her."</p> + +<p>And Jérôme Fandor told her the story of the famous wicker trunk—but he +did not mention Thomery's death, nor did he speak of the horrible murder +of Jules.... What was the use of saddening Elizabeth, of adding +needlessly to her terrors? Instead, he thought it better to learn what +he could from her.</p> + +<p>"I have not found that famous list!" said he.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I beg your pardon!" cried Elizabeth. "I was so worried!... Just +imagine that, I found the list after all, and I thought I had lost it! +It was in one of my little handbags. I had put it there to bring to you. +Here it is: they were quite willing to let me keep it!"</p> + +<p>Fandor eagerly took the paper from Elizabeth and proceeded to examine +it. Yes, it certainly was a page torn from a note-book of medium size. +An unknown hand had traced the following words in bold writing. The +names succeeded one another in the form of a list.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Baroness de Vibray, April 3. Jacques Dollon.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Dep.... idem.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Sonia Danidoff, April 12.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Barbey-Nanteuil, May 15.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Gérin...?</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Madame B...?</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Thomery, during May.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Barbey-Nanteuil, end May.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Fandor could not find anything more on the paper. Whilst Elizabeth sat +silent, Fandor reflected:</p> + +<p>"Baroness de Vibray, April 3. Jacques Dollon ... these correspond +exactly with the commencement of this mysterious affair: the two first +deaths, and the date of their death.... What does <i>Dep.</i> signify? The +initials of a name—or—yes, Dep ... Dépôt idem—yes, <i>Dépôt the same +day!</i> That's it! <i>Sonia Danidoff, April 12</i> ... the full name, the exact +date. <i>Barbey-Nanteuil, May 15</i>: the affair of rue du Quatre Septembre +occurred May 20; that's pretty near. Two more names, and one date which +exactly tallies. <i>Gérin?</i>... <i>Madame B</i>....? Who are they? Why no date? +Ah, Gérin, lawyer of Madame de Vibray, a crime planned, without date, +perhaps because he was not indispensable ... and <i>Thomery</i>! Thomery, who +died in the middle of May, as this plan indicates! But, how about the +last line? <i>Barbey-Nanteuil, end of May?</i> Oh, beyond a doubt the bankers +were to be victims of some fresh aggression on the part of the +mysterious author of these lines!"</p> + +<p>"<i>Barbey-Nanteuil, end of May!</i> We are at the 28th of the month: only +three more days before the sinister date falls due! Are they to be +attacked, or is it their money? How to defend them? How organise a trap +for the mice?"</p> + +<p>Suddenly, Fandor looked up, saw Elizabeth's anxiety, and said quietly:</p> + +<p>"Well, this list agrees in every particular with the description you +gave me of it, and I don't quite see what fresh information we are +likely to get from it. However, will you leave it with me?"</p> + +<p>Fandor rose.</p> + +<p>"Ah, there is one point which has just occurred to me"—Fandor's voice +trembled a good deal—"Do you know for a fact that your brother had +bought Thomery shares?"</p> + +<p>"He had very few, three or four. I think the Barbey-Nanteuil got them +for him."</p> + +<p>"And your brother had to pay for them by a certain date?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>Fandor now felt he must tear himself away. He was deeply moved.</p> + +<p>"Elizabeth!... Elizabeth!" he cried. "I swear to you we shall clear up +these dreadful mysteries amidst which we live, and more, you and I! Only +have confidence, I implore you! Grant me a week's grace, less even!" +Fandor pressed Elizabeth's hands as though he could never let them go! +Such little hands, and so dear!</p> + +<p>It was not a farewell he took—it was a veritable flight he took from +the girl who now meant so much to him!</p> + +<p>Leaving the prison, Fandor walked straight ahead, thinking aloud.</p> + +<p>"It is clear—evident! The Barbey-Nanteuils have sold Thomery shares to +be paid up on a certain date. Thomery was murdered so that his shares +should fall to zero, and so that the Barbey-Nanteuils should realise +enormous sums at their monthly clearance. Next Saturday, the coffers of +the Barbey-Nanteuil bank will be full of gold, and this same Saturday is +the last day of May, the fatal day inscribed on the list. Yes, this +coming Saturday, they will pillage the Barbey-Nanteuil bank!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XXV" id="XXV"></a>XXV</h2> + +<h3>A MOUSE TRAP</h3> + + +<p>Jérôme Fandor had been ringing Juve's door bell in vain: the great +detective was not at home.</p> + +<p>"What the deuce is he doing? What has become of him? Never have I needed +his advice as I need it now!... His support, encouragement—what a +comfort they would be!... It is possible he would have dissuaded me +against the attempt—or, he might have joined forces with me! Hang it +all! It was a jolly bad move on Juve's part to make himself scarce at +such a critical moment for me!... It is a long time, too, since I had +news of him! Were I not certain that he has sound reasons for his +absence—Juve never acts haphazard—I should be desperately anxious!"</p> + +<p>Fandor consulted his watch—four o'clock! He had time then! He could +think over all the dramatic events in which he had been involved during +the past weeks, beginning with the rue Norvins affair, and ending—how, +and when?</p> + +<p>At last, our journalist arrived before the immense building which forms +the corner of the rue de Clichy. He saw, in front of him, the tall +windows of the flat occupied by Nanteuil: on the ground floor were the +bank offices.</p> + +<p>"Well," thought Fandor, "I certainly am going to do an unconventional +thing. If my summing up of them is right, these bankers are balanced, +calm, cold, without imagination, and distrusting it in others. I shall +have to be eloquent to convince them, to make them listen to me and get +them to do what I want. Will they show me the door, as though I were an +intriguer or a madman?... I shall not let them do it!... Ah, they will +owe me a fine candle if I have the good luck.... Whether there will be +good luck for my venture, and gratitude from the bankers, remains to be +seen.... Here goes!..."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Seated behind their large and important looking writing table, as though +judges behind a judgment seat, Messieurs Barbey and Nanteuil, in their +immense reception office, separated from the rest of the world by a +number of padded doors, had just said to Fandor, who was standing in +front of them:</p> + +<p>"We are listening to you, monsieur."</p> + +<p>Fandor had asked to see the bankers, and to see them only, stating that +he would wait if they were engaged. He had been shown into a handsomely +furnished room, then into another, then into a third; finally, he had +been ushered into the office of the partners. He had waited there for a +few minutes alone. He recognised it as the same room in which he had +interviewed Monsieur Barbey a few weeks earlier. Again he saw the same +hangings, the same fine rugs, the same velvet arm-chair of classic +design.</p> + +<p>Then Barbey, solemn, and Nanteuil, elegant, a rose in his buttonhole, +had entered the room, their manner stiff-starched, showing no surprise, +accustomed as they were to receive visitors of all sorts and kinds: they +were polite, but not cordial.</p> + +<p>Fandor, accustomed to society as he was, and audacious as he had to be +in the exercise of his profession, was intimidated, for a moment, by the +calm simplicity of the two men—these strictly conventional bankers, to +whom he was about to say such strange things, and make a most unexpected +proposition!</p> + +<p>First of all, he made excuse on excuse for having disturbed the bankers +at their post time. Then anxiety overcame every consideration of +conventional propriety. Full of persuasive ardour, he went straight to +the point.</p> + +<p>"Messieurs," declared he, "you are more deeply involved than you might +think in the mysterious affairs occupying the attention of the police at +this moment. So far, they have not got to the bottom of them. I, myself, +through the necessities of my profession, and owing to other +circumstances, have been drawn into an investigation, conjointly with +the detective department, an investigation which has had definite +results: it has enabled me to discover clues of the highest importance. +I learned, too late, alas, to prevent the tragedies, that certain +persons were the chosen victims of these mysterious criminals. Madame de +Vibray, the Princess Danidoff were condemned beforehand; the robbery of +your gold was carefully arranged. Now to my point! Messieurs, you +yourselves are sentenced: the execution of the sentence to be carried +out three days hence. Do you believe me?"</p> + +<p>Fandor had drawn nearer the two bankers: only the immense mahogany +writing-table stood between them!</p> + +<p>The partners had listened with cold attention: nevertheless, a slight +trembling of Monsieur Barbey's lips betrayed hidden feeling. Noticing +this, Fandor was emboldened to proceed.</p> + +<p>Monsieur Nanteuil, in a slightly sneering tone, but with a perfectly +correct manner, replied to the ardent young journalist:</p> + +<p>"We are greatly obliged to you, monsieur, for the sympathy you have +shown us by coming to give us information regarding the mysterious +assassins, whom the police are so zealously trying to round up. Believe +me, we are accustomed to take our precautions, seeing that we have the +handling of enormous sums of money. We are none the less grateful to you +for your interest in us, and for your warning."</p> + +<p>"It is not a question of gratitude," interrupted Fandor sharply. "We +have to deal with very strong opponents. I say 'we' because I have +become more and more personally involved in all these crime-tragedies. +Believe me, I speak from five years' experience as a reporter, who has +had to report, on an average, one crime a day!... Up to now, nothing, +absolutely nothing has hindered the criminals from executing their +plans; but, warned in time, we may be able to thwart them."</p> + +<p>"But," interrupted Monsieur Barbey, who had grown more and more serious. +"What are you aiming at?"</p> + +<p>Fandor felt that the decisive moment had arrived. Bending across the +table, his face almost touching the faces of the two men, he said slowly +and distinctly:</p> + +<p>"Messieurs, I have asked <i>La Capitale</i> to grant me three days' leave. I +have brought a little travelling bag with me: here it is! Leaving home +as I did about half an hour ago, I consider I have arrived at the end of +my journey!... Will you offer me hospitality for the next forty-eight +hours?... I know that you, Monsieur Nanteuil, live above your offices, +whilst Monsieur Barbey goes home every evening to his place at Saint +Germain. I ask you to give up your room to me, for I am determined not +to leave here for an instant!"</p> + +<p>Fandor, in his eagerness, had spoken faster and faster, and his heart +was beating violently. He stared fixedly at the two men; he quite +expected that his demand would excite astonishment; that objections +would be raised; and he was ready with a crowd of arguments by which to +convince them and carry his point.... But, the surprise was his, for the +bankers did not seem particularly astonished.</p> + +<p>They consulted each other with a look. Then, as Barbey opened his mouth +to reply, Nanteuil began to speak, rising politely at the same time.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur Fandor, your last statements and remarks are too serious to be +passed over lightly. Your offer is too generous to be rejected without +consideration. Will you allow us to retire for a minute or two: my +partner and I will discuss the question."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>For about ten minutes Fandor marched up and down the sumptuous room. +Then one of the padded doors opened silently, and Barbey entered more +solemn than ever: Nanteuil was smiling.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur," said Barbey, in weighty tones, "my partner and I, in view of +the exceptional seriousness of the situation, for your words carry +conviction—have come to a decision: we beg of you to consider yourself +our guest from this moment, and to consider this house as your own!"</p> + +<p>"And it is understood, of course, that you dine with us this evening!" +added Nanteuil with friendly graciousness. "Monsieur Barbey will be of +the party, and will pass the night in our company ... and you can count +on it, that we shall drink a good bottle of Burgundy to enable us to +await with patience and serenity the audacious individuals you say we +are to expect.... Dear Monsieur Fandor, here are some illustrated papers +with some gay sketches of dear little women to exercise your patience +over, whilst we sign our outgoing letters as fast as possible...."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XXVI" id="XXVI"></a>XXVI</h2> + +<h3>IN THE TRAP</h3> + + +<p>The servant had retired, leaving the three men to their fruit and wine. +His hosts turned to Fandor in mute interrogation.... But Fandor +continued to peel a superb peach with the utmost coolness: he did not +seem disposed to talk.</p> + +<p>Barbey broke the silence.</p> + +<p>"Tell me, now that your first day on guard is ended, and you have not +left us for a moment—have you noticed anything at all suspicious?"</p> + +<p>Fandor shook his head. "Nothing whatever."</p> + +<p>This was not strictly true; for he had noticed an individual in the +bank, occupied in repairing the telephone. He had made discreet +inquiries, and had been told that he was a workman sent by the State, at +the request of the bankers, to see that the lines were in good working +order. This explanation had at first set his mind at rest regarding the +comings and goings of this individual.</p> + +<p>But, just when he was going in to dinner at seven o'clock, Fandor had +come across the man in the vestibule of the bank making preparations to +depart. It had been a painful surprise for Fandor. He recognised the +man, but could not remember exactly who he was, or where he had seen +him....</p> + +<p>Was this workman one of the mysterious band of criminals who, he was +more and more convinced, meant to strike a blow at Monsieur Barbey, and +his partner, Nanteuil?</p> + +<p>If Fandor had had anything to go upon, he would have had the man +shadowed. But he had no sure ground for his suspicions; besides, sent +by the State, the man was most probably what he seemed. As he was +working for the Government, he could easily be traced should such a step +be found necessary. But to make certain that all was as it should be, +Fandor had examined the work done by this individual during the day. +There was nothing wrong with it: beyond a doubt, the man was an expert. +Therefore, Fandor had felt justified in saying that he had noticed +nothing suspicious during the day.</p> + +<p>"So much the worse," remarked Monsieur Barbey, with a shrug.... +"Probably the individuals who are threatening us, have been warned of +your presence here, and are on their guard. I rejoice as far as we are +concerned; but, as regards the general interest, I almost regret it: +that your trap should prove effective, is what we must wish."</p> + +<p>"Have no fear, dear Monsieur Barbey, it will not be laid in vain! +Knowing the cunning, the cleverness of my adversaries, I have not the +least doubt they know I am here; but I also know that the audacity of +these criminals is such, that my presence here would not deter them from +making their attempt. They believe themselves the stronger, but I hope +to undeceive them."</p> + +<p>"What is your plan of campaign to-night?" asked Monsieur Nanteuil.</p> + +<p>"Before replying to that, will you show me all the means of access to +the house?"</p> + +<p>"With the greatest pleasure."</p> + +<p>The three men left the dining-room: then went into the vestibule.</p> + +<p>"Our courtyard gate is at the far end of the house, on the right," said +Nanteuil. "On the left, there are the Bank offices: they occupy this +ground floor. The only entrance to them is through this vestibule. This +door closed, it is impossible to get in."</p> + +<p>"Not by the windows looking on to the street?" asked Fandor.</p> + +<p>"No, those windows have heavy iron bars before them. To remove them +would be difficult—very ... As to the windows looking on to the garden, +they are closed every evening—you can see for yourself—by strong +wooden shutters fastened on the inside."</p> + +<p>"So the Bank offices are perfectly protected?" said Fandor.</p> + +<p>"We believe so. Now, come upstairs to the floor above!... Here is a +large corridor, and that door, on the right, opens into a library. The +two rooms which come next, are my own room and a dressing-room. The +other rooms are unoccupied."</p> + +<p>"Does your room face the street or the garden?" asked Fandor.</p> + +<p>"The garden."</p> + +<p>"And the windows?"</p> + +<p>"The windows?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Would it be difficult, or impossible to climb up to them?"</p> + +<p>"It would be difficult, but not impossible. No one ever enters the +garden. If absolutely necessary, a ladder could be placed against them, +a square of glass could be cut out, and the fastening could be undone +... but come and see the room, you can then judge for yourself."</p> + +<p>Fandor inspected the room most carefully. The banker was right. It would +be comparatively easy to get into the room by the window; but the other +entrances to the room could be easily watched; they resolved themselves +into one door, which opened on to the corridor.</p> + +<p>Monsieur Nanteuil's room was lightly furnished: he evidently favoured +the modern method: it was a bare apartment, but it was hygienic.</p> + +<p>"Ah," said Fandor, "the bed has its back to the door, and faces the +window. Very right. You have electric light, I see, near the fireplace, +and above your bed. Then it is possible to switch on a bright light at +any time.... Valuable, that!"</p> + +<p>Having finished a minute inspection of the room, and, to the amusement +of the bankers, having looked under the bed to make sure that no one +had hidden himself beneath it, Fandor declared:</p> + +<p>"I am decidedly pleased with this room, and if you see no objection, I +wish to stay here and await the visitors of to-night."</p> + +<p>"You think of sleeping here alone?"</p> + +<p>"Alone! Decidedly, I do! It is pretty certain that these men know every +inch of your flat; and if they are the sort I take them to be, they will +make certain that everything here is as usual before attempting to +attack the Bank. I do not wish them to be frightened off by finding a +companion at my side, and I particularly wish them to mistake me for +you...."</p> + +<p>"But that is frightfully dangerous, surely?" objected Nanteuil.</p> + +<p>"Reassure yourself, monsieur, I do not run any great risk. They won't +know I am watching them; but I shall have this advantage over them—I am +on the lookout for the rascally assassins and robbers, and I do not fear +them in the slightest."</p> + +<p>Fandor was not going to own that he knew there was danger; but he was +keenly set on running this particular risk, for, by so doing, might he +not discover the truth?</p> + +<p>When the bankers left him for the night, Fandor again examined every +corner of the room, and all it contained. He tested the electric light +switch; he took a mental photograph of the situation of the pieces of +furniture. He got into bed, half dressed, and lay quietly, grasping his +revolver, fully loaded.</p> + +<p>He switched off the light, and in that large room, veiled in darkness, +he awaited the events of the night. Noises from the street reached him +indistinctly. The silence about him was menacing: something was going to +happen here, something sudden, unforeseen, perhaps irremediable.</p> + +<p>Minute by minute, time went by, interminable, monotonous, casting a soft +veil of sleep over the eyes of Fandor. But thoughts were rising within +him: more and more keenly he was realising the horrible danger he was +exposing himself to. Beneath closed eyes his brain was active, his +imagination afire.</p> + +<p>"Elizabeth Dollon must be avenged," was his persistent thought. +"Consequently, I must run some risks to achieve that!"</p> + +<p>A definite fear tormented him. He thought of the curious sleep Elizabeth +had fallen victim to in the boarding-house.</p> + +<p>"Provided I have not taken some narcotic without knowing it!... Suppose +the villains are going to inject into the room some gas which would +suffocate me, and I should not know I was breathing it in? Suppose I +lose consciousness and slip into death?"</p> + +<p>But Fandor drew himself together; he stiffened his will.</p> + +<p>Do they know I am in this room waiting to entrap them? Do they think +they will find Nanteuil here defenceless? Who was that workman?... I +ought to be able to put a name to that familiar face?</p> + +<p>How slow, how deadly slow, the tic-tac, tic-tac, of the timepiece? +Centuries passed between the striking of the hours!... Would it be +to-night?... To-morrow night?... Or ...</p> + +<p>On the corridor carpet outside the room, a slight rustling sound, +continuous, barely perceptible, caught Fandor's listening ear.... Who +was it?... Was it anyone at all?... Was it imagination? He listened +intently ... not a sound now.... But, yes ... the same rustling sound +... it was nearer—moving along the wall. Fandor closed his eyes an +instant, so vividly did he feel that someone was looking at him through +the wall!</p> + +<p>Seconds beat by—seconds that might culminate in a moment of +horror—seconds passing steadily by in regular succession, sinking into +nothingness....</p> + +<p>Had someone moved? Were there steps by the door?...</p> + +<p>Fandor thought he heard strange sounds all around him, in the room +itself! His nerves were tensely strung: he was overwrought. Someone was +certainly walking in the corridor!... He had felt a movement along the +wall against which his bed stood!</p> + +<p>Impossible to hesitate longer! The door knob, which he could not see in +the darkness, must have moved.... Fandor sensed this movement as surely +as though he himself had placed his hand on the knob....</p> + +<p>Yes, the door was going to open!...</p> + +<p>It was ajar ... it was turning on its hinges—it was open.... Someone +was coming in.... Who?...</p> + +<p>Fandor lay still—he dared not move an eyelid; but in his mind he said:</p> + +<p>"Come in, then! Take the trouble to come in!"</p> + +<p>Thus Fandor, who believed Death was entering the room, dared to welcome +the grim visitor—with a smile!</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Nothing was happening.... Fandor's feverish excitement sank down to +depression.... He must have deceived himself—no one was entering the +room—nothing untoward was happening! He had simply imagined the noises +outside in the corridor, for nothing happened—nothing ... and once more +he was following the eternal tic-tac, tic-tac of the timepiece!</p> + +<p>The head of Fandor's bed was near the door. He could not, in the dense +darkness, fix the point where he supposed the enemy would find him, and +he had the agonising conviction that they were very much at their +ease—that they knew exactly where he was, and were quietly preparing +their attack.</p> + +<p>But had these unknown assassins entered the room?... Yes, it was +certain—there were men behind him—bending over him with outstretched +hands to strangle him!... He could hear the sound their fingers made in +passing through the air to grip his throat, to squeeze his life out!...</p> + +<p>Though he lived a hundred years, never could Fandor forget the agonising +thrill when he sensed that hidden danger! He held his revolver ready to +fire. He thought:</p> + +<p>"In whatever way I am attacked, I must not let slip this unique chance +to learn the truth! I must seize the attacker at all costs, and leap to +the electric switch, turn on the light—and I shall be saved! Saved!..."</p> + +<p>Without a cry, without a warning sound, without a moment's time to cope +with the violence of the attack, Fandor felt a cloth over his face, +strong hands on his throat, a heavy weight crushing his chest.</p> + +<p>"I am lost!" flashed through his mind.</p> + +<p>"I mean to find out the truth!" his will declared.</p> + +<p>With all the force of resistant muscle and will he disengaged himself +from the power crushing him to death; seized an arm by chance, hung on +to it, gripped it, threw off the man, ran to the switch, shouting:</p> + +<p>"Help!"</p> + +<p>Again, Fandor thought he was done for: the switch acted, but no light +flashed forth!</p> + +<p>They had cut the wire!</p> + +<p>Men were holding on to him: their grip was tightening!</p> + +<p>A voice gave a strangled cry.</p> + +<p>"Help!"</p> + +<p>A strange voice! Whose?</p> + +<p>Fandor was weakening. His right hand seemed to be caught in a vise which +would break and crush it: it was growing tighter and tighter: it was +wrenching his arm, was dragging him backwards: it would fracture his +shoulder blade! Who?... Who?...</p> + +<p>By a miraculous effort he freed himself. He leaped away; sprang to the +mantelpiece; seized a pocket electric torch he had placed there—clac—a +light flashed out!... Fandor saw, recognised his attacker!...</p> + +<p>Ah! The form he had seen before—a slim figure, clothed in black!... Ah, +this murderer, whose face was concealed by a hooded mask!</p> + +<p>Fandor shouted at him.</p> + +<p>"Fantômas! It's you and I, Fantômas!"</p> + +<p>But, already, this mysterious bandit, unmasked by the unexpected light, +had rushed on our journalist.</p> + +<p>The electric torch was extinguished.</p> + +<p>The struggle recommenced, fierce, formidable, desperate! Fandor was +seized by the throat in a strangling grip: he was choking!</p> + +<p>His right arm, so twisted, so bruised, was powerless—and in that hand, +now so deadened and helpless that it seemed detached from his body, was +his revolver. He must shoot, though almost powerless in the formidable +grip of the bandit. He must shoot if he was to be saved. He managed to +pull the trigger.</p> + +<p>There was a loud report.</p> + +<p>Fandor felt himself flung towards the wall. The vise loosed its grip. +There was a terrific din. The window panes were shattered, a heavy piece +of furniture was pushed aside, oscillated, fell with a crash; then a +sudden silence; but a silence broken by gaspings, loud breathings, +hoarse sounds, an agonising death rattle.</p> + +<p>The dead pause seemed interminable.... Fandor was about to shoot again, +when a voice close to him cried:</p> + +<p>"He is escaping!..."</p> + +<p>Jérôme Fandor recognised that voice!...</p> + +<p>Another voice said:</p> + +<p>"We must have a light!"</p> + +<p>A wax match flamed and flared.</p> + +<p>By its wavering light Fandor could distinguish three men in the room.... +Their clothes were torn: there was blood on their faces, they were +panting: they stared at one another.</p> + +<p>Fandor recognised them instantly.</p> + +<p>Leaning against the bed, a gash in his cheek, was Monsieur Barbey.</p> + +<p>Lying on the floor, apparently half dead, was Monsieur Nanteuil.</p> + +<p>Calmly lighting a candle was the telephone workman. He alone seemed +unmoved.</p> + +<p>Fandor threw down his revolver and, coolly marching to the door, locked +it.</p> + +<p>Monsieur Barbey followed the journalist with a look. He made a gesture +of discouragement and pointed to the window: its panes were smashed to +pieces.</p> + +<p>"We are tricked—done!" he said. "The assassin has got away!"</p> + +<p>But Fandor, with a shrug, marched up to the window, returned, and said +in a matter-of-fact tone:</p> + +<p>"It is impossible that Fantômas could have made his escape that way!"</p> + +<p>The workman nodded gravely.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur Fandor," said he, "I am entirely of your opinion."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XXVII" id="XXVII"></a>XXVII</h2> + +<h3>THE IMPRINT</h3> + + +<p>"Monsieur Fandor, I am entirely of your opinion!"</p> + +<p>Hearing these words, Fandor, who had regained his self-possession, and +was ready to start fighting again if necessary, looked at the individual +who had made this statement—the individual whose face was oddly +familiar.</p> + +<p>"Who are you?" he asked.</p> + +<p>The individual smiled broadly.</p> + +<p>"Don't you recognise me?" he asked.</p> + +<p>He removed his wig, threw the candle light on himself, and smilingly +announced his style and title.</p> + +<p>"Sergeant Juve, once of the detective force; formerly dead: now amateur +policeman!"</p> + +<p>"You! You, Juve!" cried Fandor. "And to think I suspected you...."</p> + +<p>But the two bankers interrupted at one and the same moment.</p> + +<p>"What are you doing here?"</p> + +<p>Juve smiled.</p> + +<p>"The art I practise brought me! Since my interest in the Dollon affair +is so keen, I follow it up, I wish to find the secret of it, just +through love of my art. I dabble in it nowadays."</p> + +<p>"But Juve—how did you get here?" questioned Fandor.</p> + +<p>"Ah, ha! If you have made some psychological discoveries: if reasoning +has landed you here, now facts have led me here!... You know I was +shadowing the band of Numbers. You know that in the skin of Cranajour I +was intimate with those rascals. To my astonishment I found that my +wretched companions had dealings with the Barbey-Nanteuil bank, who, of +course, had no suspicion of it! Are you surprised then that I felt it +incumbent on me to visit this bank?... Besides, yesterday, I saw you +enter here; but you never came out again! You had reasons for acting so. +I determined to be near you, in case you needed my help. I therefore +passed myself off as a workman come to attend to the telephone +installation. It was easy enough, for I am a good electrician.... Well, +when I found that you were preparing to pass the night here, I laid my +plans accordingly. I pretended to leave the premises, but really I hid +myself in the house. Just now, when you called for help, I came to your +aid as quickly as I could, naturally!"</p> + +<p>"Just as we did!" remarked Monsieur Barbey, looking at his partner.</p> + +<p>Monsieur Nanteuil contented himself with a nod. He added:</p> + +<p>"Alas, once again that criminal has escaped! Fantômas, since it was +Fantômas who was here, just now, Fantômas has got away!" And Nanteuil +pointed to the broken window by which it would seem the criminal, taking +advantage of the noise, had escaped.</p> + +<p>But both Fandor and Juve shrugged doubtfully.</p> + +<p>"You believe then, Monsieur Nanteuil, that Fantômas has left this room?" +questioned our young journalist.</p> + +<p>"What the devil do you mean?" asked Nanteuil.</p> + +<p>Juve demanded.</p> + +<p>"Which way did he make his escape?"</p> + +<p>Nanteuil pointed.</p> + +<p>"Why that way! By this window ... where else?... You can see quite well +that he has broken the panes!... Why, look! His hooded cloak has got +caught on the window latch!..."</p> + +<p>Fandor lay back in an arm-chair. He seemed much amused. He silenced Juve +with a gesture, and turned to Nanteuil.</p> + +<p>"I can assure, dear Monsieur Nanteuil, that Fantômas has not left the +room by this window!..."</p> + +<p>"Because?..."</p> + +<p>"Because this window has been broken by means of this chair: this chair, +which he flung against the panes to put us on the wrong scent, and make +us believe he had escaped that way!... Just look at this chair! It is +still strewn with broken bits of glass ... look, there is even a little +bit stuck into the wood!"</p> + +<p>"But that proves nothing!... Fantômas has broken the window panes as +best he could, and then made his escape!"</p> + +<p>"In that case," insisted Fandor, "dear Monsieur Nanteuil, can you +explain how it was he troubled to remove his cloak, hood and all; and, +after that, how is it he has left no footprints in the flower-beds +beneath the window? When day dawns you will see for yourself that my +statement is correct, though I have not verified it! The flower-beds are +too wide, too big, for a man jumping from here, to jump clear of them! +And the earth is soft enough to take and retain the footprints of a man +who leaps down on to them from this height!... Nevertheless, such +footprints are conspicuous by their absence!"</p> + +<p>Monsieur Barbey seemed overwhelmed—aghast.</p> + +<p>"If Fantômas did not escape by the window, how then did he get away?" he +asked.</p> + +<p>Fandor said in clear, distinct tones:</p> + +<p>"Fantômas was not able to escape!..."</p> + +<p>"But he cannot be in the room?... Where, then, can he have hidden +himself?"</p> + +<p>In a hard voice, Fandor made answer.</p> + +<p>"He is not hidden in the room...."</p> + +<p>"You think then that he has hidden himself somewhere in the house?"</p> + +<p>Speaking in the same hard, decisive tone, Fandor asserted:</p> + +<p>"He is not hidden in the house! In the very height of the struggle, I +kept a strict watch on the direction taken by the man who was doing his +utmost to strangle me. I am positive I had my back against the door +when I fired, so that exit was barred! Neither by door nor window did +Fantômas escape!" Fandor's tone was one of absolute assurance.</p> + +<p>"If you are certain of that," said Nanteuil, "can you tell us how +Fantômas did escape?"</p> + +<p>Fandor's reply was to rise from his arm-chair. He took the candlestick +from the table where Juve had placed it and walked towards a large +mirror. He carefully examined his neck.</p> + +<p>"Very curious!" said he, in a low voice...: "Now, monsieur, the man who +tried to strangle me was Fantômas—we have seen him.... Well, this man +had a wound on his thumb, or, more probably, he wounded me, anyhow he +has left on my collar the mark of his thumb in blood—you guess what +this thumb-mark is?"</p> + +<p>Simultaneously, Barbey, Nanteuil, and Juve rushed towards the young +journalist.... Fandor showed them a little red mark, clear cut on the +white surface of the collar; it was a finger-print so characteristic, +that the two bankers cried in a trembling voice:</p> + +<p>"Again the imprint of Jacques Dollon!"</p> + +<p>Silence fell—a pregnant silence. The four men gazed at one another. +Fandor soon started whistling a popular air. Juve smiled: Monsieur +Barbey was the first to speak:</p> + +<p>"Good Heavens! Do you mean to say that Jacques Dollon was here—in this +room!... It is certain, you say, Monsieur Fandor, that he did not get +away either by door or window—for pity's sake explain the mystery!"</p> + +<p>But Fandor contented himself with a smile and a question.</p> + +<p>"Do you really think, then, that I know it?..."</p> + +<p>Nanteuil stamped with impatience.</p> + +<p>"But hang it all! If you don't know anything, don't let us waste time! +Let us begin the search! Hunt through the house! Search the garden from +end to end!..."</p> + +<p>Fandor went on—his tone was ironic.</p> + +<p>"And warn the police? Well, no, Monsieur Nanteuil, we will not make any +search whatever, you can rely on that!... For the last three months we +have been striving and struggling to solve a maddening mystery: we never +could reach a certain solution of it: we have been vainly pursuing an +assassin, who for ever escaped us ... and now, when for once, we get +hold of a definite fact, an indisputable reality, are we going to risk +muddling up the whole business?... Not if I know it!"</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?" demanded Monsieur Barbey.</p> + +<p>"Listen!" replied Fandor: "Some minutes ago, I was alone in this room; +Jacques Dollon entered the room, because I bear on my neck the imprint +of his thumb. Jacques Dollon was Fantômas, because he declared it +himself when he believed he would emerge victorious from the struggle. +Jacques Dollon—Fantômas—has not left this room, either by door or +window. On the other hand, you have entered the room—you Monsieur +Barbey, you Monsieur Nanteuil, and you Juve. Since these individuals +have entered the room, and no one has left it, it necessarily follows +that the personage, Jacques Dollon—Fantômas, must have entered among +you, and that he has remained here, between these four walls."</p> + +<p>Simultaneously, Barbey and Nanteuil raised protesting voices: but Juve +continued to smile.</p> + +<p>"Do you believe then?..."</p> + +<p>But Jérôme Fandor did not allow him to finish.</p> + +<p>"I do not <i>think</i> anything," said he. "I <i>know</i> that I, Jérôme Fandor, +am I, and that I am not Jacques Dollon!... Juve knows that he is Juve, +and that he is not Jacques Dollon. You, Monsieur Barbey; you, Monsieur +Nanteuil, you know who you are, and who you are not! None of us can +leave imprints similar to those of Jacques Dollon. But, I also know, +that Jacques Dollon has entered this room, and that he has not left +it—this is all that I know!"</p> + +<p>To this extraordinary declaration, Monsieur Nanteuil, with an +incredulous shrug of the shoulders, exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"This is downright madness, monsieur!"</p> + +<p>But Juve congratulated Fandor.</p> + +<p>"That's logic, my boy! You are going it strong, lad!"</p> + +<p>Fandor continued.</p> + +<p>"It follows, that if Jacques Dollon has not left the room, he must be +here in this room. He must be arrested. In order to arrest him, we must +beg Monsieur Havard to come here as fast as he possibly can! Jacques +Dollon is Fantômas, or I should say, Fantômas is Jacques Dollon. +Monsieur Havard will not hesitate to put himself to any inconvenience in +order to effect such a capture! I am going to call him up at once, +messieurs, thanks to this telephone!"</p> + +<p>And profiting by the bewilderment of his hearers, Fandor, then and +there, telephoned to Police Headquarters; he spoke to one of the +officials, who undertook to inform his chief that he was wanted at the +telephone on most urgent business.</p> + +<p>A minute or two later, Fandor was telling Monsieur Havard what had +happened. He terminated his narrative thus:</p> + +<p>"I myself had locked the door of the room in which the struggle took +place. No one left the room, nor shall anyone leave it before your +arrival, I give you my word of honour on that! Come, post-haste. It is +of the utmost urgency. Bring a locksmith. He must open the great door of +the house. He will have to force open the door of the room in which we +now are. I must keep an incessant watch over this room. I do not see +Fantômas—Jacques Dollon—in this room; but in this room he must +inevitably be—he <i>is</i> in it!"</p> + +<p>Fandor, listening to Monsieur Havard's answer, repeated it to his +companions.</p> + +<p>"In a very short time, the chief will be here; in a very short time, +messieurs, we shall witness the arrest of Fantômas, that is, of the most +inhuman monster that has ever existed!"</p> + +<p>"It seems to me you are going too fast!" remarked Monsieur Barbey. "All +is mystery—yet you talk of making an arrest!"</p> + +<p>"But what do you consider mysterious now?" asked Fandor, laughing.</p> + +<p>"Why, everything! Take one thing: do you know what were the motives of +the different Fantômas-Dollon crimes?"</p> + +<p>Juve replied to this:</p> + +<p>"Oh, as for that, perfectly! The motives are clear as crystal!... Madame +de Vibray was ruined, and really committed suicide because—you will +pardon me, I am sure—because the Bourse transactions you advised were +not successful.... She poisoned herself, and went to Jacques Dollon's +studio to die: perhaps she felt for him a secret attachment! Fate willed +it that the assassins should choose this very evening to make their way +into the painter's studio ... by means of this first corpse they created +an alibi for themselves, and prepared the scene which was bound to +mislead justice and make lawyers and police believe in the murder of +Madame de Vibray and the suicide of her murderer.... Unfortunately for +them, Dollon was discovered before the poison they administered had done +its deadly work on him, and Dollon was arrested.... You can imagine the +fury, the distracted state of the guilty! Dollon had seen them—he was +going to speak at the legal interrogation—very well, then—they will +kill him—and they do kill him...."</p> + +<p>"But Jacques Dollon lives, since his imprints are found here, there and +everywhere!..." cried Monsieur Barbey.</p> + +<p>Fandor replied:</p> + +<p>"They kill Jacques Dollon, since it has been formally established that +Jacques Dollon was seen dead; and once they have killed Dollon, they +think that a dead man cannot be arrested by the police, and <i>they accept +this dead man as one of their band</i>.... He, they decide, shall steal the +pearls of Princess Danidoff!..."</p> + +<p>"This is raving lunacy!"</p> + +<p>"All that is pretty clearly proved, Monsieur Nanteuil!... It is he also +who stole the millions in the rue du Quatre Septembre, a sensational +robbery which would have ruined your bank, had not this issue of bullion +been well covered by an insurance: this insurance signified that you +were no losers by this robbery—in fact, owing to an ingenious +combination of insurances, you have actually gained by the robbery! As +we are on this subject, I might add that were I a member of the Band I +should propose restoring to you the vanished ingots—robbers find +bullion somewhat difficult to put into circulation: you might buy them +back; then turn them into false coin, for instance—that would be all +profit—for you!..."</p> + +<p>"I wonder at you—making such a joke as that!" remarked Nanteuil.</p> + +<p>"Please wonder at me!... To continue!... Having carried out their plan +successfully, these robbers remembered something they had forgotten—a +compromising paper, or something like it, which had been left in +Elizabeth Dollon's possession. Thereupon, they send the dead +man—Jacques Dollon—to look for it: he attempts to murder his sister: I +arrive just in time to open the windows before she is past all human +aid.... Meanwhile a series of cleverly arranged deals on the Bourse are +brought off, so that if Thomery disappeared the Barbey-Nanteuil Bank +would rake in important profits ... in haste the assassins get rid of an +accomplice who is in their way—that duffer of a Jules, the rue Raffet +servant, and they send Dollon to kill Thomery. After that they decide to +rob your Bank which is stuffed with gold; for, were it not for this +theft, it would be your Bank, burdened as it is, with Thomery shares, +which would pay out to speculators the differences in value between past +and present prices—which amounts would have to come out of the money +paid in the day before. Messieurs, with regard to this, Thomery's death +did you a great service.... Without his death, which enriched you, you +would have had to settle up your sales by a certain date, and you would +have lost more than you gained at the moment, owing to the sole fact of +his disappearance!... I think you are very grateful to Jacques Dollon +because of what he has done for you."</p> + +<p>Monsieur Nanteuil, on hearing these last words, rose. He walked up to +the journalist and said, in a voice quivering with some emotion:</p> + +<p>"For my part, Monsieur Fandor, I think your way of explaining the Dollon +affair is a very strange way!... You assert that this painter is dead, +and you make him behave as if he were alive!... Besides, I have +understood your words! In truth, what you say is senseless: you make +wild statements! You have involved our Bank in every one of the Dollon +crimes!... You have shown us as interested parties in all these +robberies!"</p> + +<p>Fandor said quietly:</p> + +<p>"Nevertheless, it is unquestionably true that you are the gainers by +these crimes: beginning with Madame de Vibray and ending with Thomery. +Madame de Vibray might have brought an action against you for the loss +of her fortune, owing to your risky speculations and bad management. +Thomery's murder brought down his shares with a run, and you found that +a most advantageous state of affairs—you gained by it!... But, of +course, this is coincidence, since you are not Fantômas, since you are +not Jacques Dollon, since you cannot imitate the imprint of his +thumb!... I have only said this to show ..." Fandor stopped short.</p> + +<p>"Hark!... Someone is coming upstairs! Here is Monsieur Havard!"</p> + +<p>As the bankers were hurrying impatiently to the door, Fandor said in a +bantering tone:</p> + +<p>"Do not stir a step further, I beg of you! Not a step! Let us receive +the chief of the detective force exactly in the position we were, not an +hour ago, when we encountered him whom the chief has now come to +arrest!"</p> + +<p>Barbey and Nanteuil returned to their former positions. Those in the +room could hear voices on the other side of the door exchanging brief +remarks. The lock was being picked. Monsieur Havard entered and hurried +up to the journalist.</p> + +<p>"Well, my dear Fandor, I have followed all your instructions to the +letter!... Ah! you here, too, Juve! Well?... Speak! Anything fresh since +your extraordinary telephone communication?... What were you telling +me?"</p> + +<p>"I was saying, Monsieur Havard, that the assassin had entered this room, +and assuredly had not left it—that he was here!..."</p> + +<p>"Here?"</p> + +<p>Monsieur Havard had recognised the bankers at the first glance.... His +question betrayed a certain incredulity which piqued Fandor.</p> + +<p>"Here! Yes! That is absolutely so, because it is impossible that he can +have left the room! Besides, you shall convince yourself of that!... +Monsieur Nanteuil, will you do me a small service? Will you draw a plan +of the first floor of your house?"</p> + +<p>The banker rose and seated himself at his writing-table, which was +placed in a corner of the room.</p> + +<p>"I am at your disposal." And he began to trace a plan, a pretty rough +one, of the various rooms which made up the first floor of his house.</p> + +<p>"Is that what you want?" he asked.</p> + +<p>Jérôme Fandor rose quickly and went towards Nanteuil.</p> + +<p>The journalist's nerves must have been out of order—in a jumpy state, +despite his apparent calm, for, in approaching the writing-table, he +suddenly staggered, nearly fell, tried to regain his balance, and that +so clumsily that he upset the contents of a large ink-pot on the +writing-desk....</p> + +<p>"Take care!" said Monsieur Nanteuil, who, to save himself from coming +into contact with this inky inundation, threw himself back in his chair, +and lifted his hands above the flood of ink....</p> + +<p>The banker repeated:</p> + +<p>"Take care!... Here is a fresh catastrophe!..."</p> + +<p>But he did not finish what he intended to say! Quick as thought, Fandor +steadied himself, and before anyone could guess his intention he seized +the banker's right hand, pushed it forcibly into the wide-spreading ink, +then, immediately after, pressed it on to a sheet of blotting paper +which took the hand's imprint quite clearly....</p> + +<p>This imprint he glanced at but a moment.... Like a flag, he waved it +above his head!</p> + +<p>"<i>It is the Jacques Dollon imprint!</i>" he shouted. "<i>The hand of Monsieur +Nanteuil, whose characteristics are known in the anthropometric section, +has just left the imprint of—Jacques Dollon!...</i>"</p> + +<p>The journalist's action created a momentary stupour!</p> + +<p>Juve rushed to him.</p> + +<p>"Bravo! Bravo!" he cried.</p> + +<p>But Monsieur Havard had gone quite pale. He said in a low voice:</p> + +<p>"I don't understand!"</p> + +<p>Barbey and Nanteuil retained their self-possession!</p> + +<p>Then Monsieur Barbey rose. He looked fixedly at his partner. He spoke in +a tone of sad finality:</p> + +<p>"I suspected this!... Farewell...."</p> + +<p>A shout of horror answered him: he had drawn a sharp dagger from inside +his coat, and had plunged it in his heart up to the hilt!</p> + +<p>Juve knelt by the fallen man. Monsieur Havard kept a sharp eye on +Nanteuil.</p> + +<p>"Here, then, is Jacques Dollon, the dead-alive!... Here is the elusive +Fantômas!" said the chief of the detective force.</p> + +<p>But the bandit brazened it out as he recoiled before the chief.</p> + +<p>"Why do you arrest me because of this imprint?" he demanded. "It is a +piece of juggling on the part of this journalist!... Take a fresh +imprint of my hand, my fingers, my thumb, and you will see whether my +hand could possibly leave such an impression as that put on the blotting +pad, by some sleight-of-hand trick of this much too smart reporter!" He +stretched out his arm in the direction of the blotting pad, as though +begging for a fresh trial....</p> + +<p>Fandor marched up to Nanteuil.</p> + +<p>"Useless," said he, in a curt tone. "I have been watching you!... I know +the trick!"</p> + +<p>Nanteuil stood stock-still, dumb. Fandor lifted the cuff of Nanteuil's +coat, and pointed out to Monsieur Havard, and to Juve, a sort of thin +film of glove-like form. It was fastened to the wrist by an almost +imperceptible piece of elastic.</p> + +<p>"This is human skin," said Fandor. "Human skin marvellously preserved by +some special process: all its lines and marks are intact. Can you not +guess whence it came? Do you need to be told whose dead body has +supplied this phantom glove?"</p> + +<p>Monsieur Havard was as white as a sheet.</p> + +<p>"The body of Jacques Dollon," he murmured.... "Yes, that is it!..."</p> + +<p>There was a moment's intense silence in the room.</p> + +<p>"How do you imagine this wretch set to work?" demanded Monsieur Havard.</p> + +<p>"Simple enough," replied Fandor.... "Fantômas knows the danger criminals +run, owing to the exact science of anthropometry: he knows that every +imprint denounces the assassin: he knows that it is difficult to do +anything without leaving such imprints—and that is why, every time he +has committed a crime, he has taken care to glove his hands in the skin +of Jacques Dollon's hands."</p> + +<p>Nanteuil, at bay, attempted denial.</p> + +<p>"You are talking mere newspaper romance," said he.</p> + +<p>Fandor looked the banker in the eye.</p> + +<p>"Fantômas!" said he. "Do not attempt to deny what is no longer possible +to deny!... The trick is remarkably clever, and you have reason to be +proud of your invention. Perhaps I should never have discovered it, if +in this very room, this very night, you had not been imprudent enough to +leave those imprints on my collar!... No one had left the room, +therefore the guilty person was in the room—of necessity he was: +<i>therefore, it followed, that someone had the hands of Dollon!...</i> But +how could this someone have the hands of Dollon?... Of course, +naturally, the idea of these gloves occurred to me!..."</p> + +<p>Fandor turned to the chief of the detective force.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur Havard, Madame de Vibray committed suicide because she lost +her fortune through Barbey-Nanteuil mismanagement—she might even have +been poisoned by them! But that does not matter! Her death might +compromise the Bank: they carried her dead body to Jacques Dollon's +studio, and they tried to poison this painter, in order to put the law +off their track. You know Dollon was saved! He was a dangerous witness. +They killed him in his cell, some warder being accessory to the +fact—killed him before his innocence could be established! Then they +took his hands, that they might commit murders with them!... Dollon is +dead, as I have held all along. It is Nanteuil who has committed the +crimes ascribed to the most unfortunate Dollon. These crimes have +profited the Barbey-Nanteuil Bank—as I pointed out just now!"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Whilst Nanteuil stood speechless, whilst Barbey, whom they had lifted to +a sofa, was gasping out his last breath, whilst Juve was giving little +nods of approval to what his dear lad was saying, Fandor was treating +Monsieur Havard to a further version of the affair.</p> + +<p>"When I telephoned to you I was morally certain of the approaching +arrest. Not a soul quitted the room after the hands of Dollon had left +imprints on my collar and on my neck. Therefore someone had the hands of +Dollon. The finger imprints of all the personages present were known to +me—therefore someone had a method by which he changed his own +finger-prints into those of Dollon.... How was it done? It must be a +removable method or means ... why, of course, it could only be by a pair +of gloves that the trick was done ... of course it must be by means of +<i>a pair of gloves made with the skin of Jacques Dollon's hands</i>!... I +noticed that Nanteuil kept his hands obstinately behind his back. I +guessed that it was he who had played the part of Dollon to-night, so I +managed to prevent him removing those Dollon gloves, that I might take +their imprint before your eyes—the rest can be guessed, can it not?... +The imprint taken, profiting by the confusion, Nanteuil slipped off the +glove which, as you see, was no thicker than a cigarette when rolled +up.... To throw it aside was risky: he pushed it up his sleeve while +pretending to arrange his cuff, and at the same time to put ink on his +ungloved hand and so hide his trick!... Only I saw it all.... Monsieur +Havard, it is not only the false Jacques Dollon I denounce, for Juve and +I fully realised that he was also the elusive Fantômas! Here is this +cloak with hooded mask, which is an irrefutable proof: besides he +himself declared he was Fantômas.... Monsieur Havard, all you have to do +now is seize this man: Juve and I will hand him over to you!"</p> + +<p>It was a thrilling moment! Juve and Fandor, in this hour of decisive +victory, mutely embraced. Monsieur Havard advanced with raised hands +towards Nanteuil who retreated.</p> + +<p>"Fantômas," he commenced, "in the name of the law I arr..."</p> + +<p>The word was strangled in his throat!...</p> + +<p>As he advanced another step, Nanteuil suddenly sprang backwards, and his +hand rested on the moulding of a wooden panel.... At the same moment, +Monsieur Havard, as if hampered by some invisible obstacle, stretched +his length on the floor!</p> + +<p>Juve and Fandor were about to rush to his aid ... but while Fandor, in +his turn, measured his length on the floor also, Juve yelled:</p> + +<p>"Good lord!... We are caught!... He escapes!..."</p> + +<p>Whilst the detective made a frantic effort to move a step—<i>he seemed +nailed to the floor</i>—Fantômas, quick as lightning, leaped over the +prone body of Monsieur Havard, gained the door, and banged it to behind +him!... They heard a triumphant burst of laughter.... Fantômas was +escaping!</p> + +<p>"This is sorcery!" shouted the chief of the detective force, in a voice +hoarse with rage.</p> + +<p>"Take your boots off!... Take your boots off!" yelled Juve, who, with +bare feet, was rushing through the house, revolver in hand, hoping to +come up with the banker bandit!...</p> + +<p>But, when the detective arrived at the entrance gateway of the house, he +found the policemen brought by Monsieur Havard chatting away quietly ... +they had not seen a thing ... the street was deserted ... in a second +Fantômas had disappeared, vanished into thin air ... he, the elusive +one, had got away: once more he had escaped those who were pursuing him +with such keen determination!</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"It is very simple," explained Juve to Monsieur Havard and Fandor, who +seemed deprived of speech. "Yes, it is simple enough; I guessed it at +once when I saw you fall, Monsieur Havard, just after Fantômas had +pressed the woodwork."</p> + +<p>"He pressed an electric button, did he not?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Fandor, he established a current!... The wretch must have placed +powerful electric magnets under the floor ... and the moment he realised +that it was impossible to brazen it out any longer—was on the very +point of being arrested—he established the current ... so we three were +nailed to the ground by the attraction exercised by these +electro-magnets on the nails of our shoes—he, Fantômas, was then free +to cut and run for it, whose shoes must certainly have had soles made of +some insulating material...."</p> + +<p>Monsieur Havard and Fandor made no answer to this.</p> + +<p>To have held Fantômas at their mercy, if only for a minute; to have +believed that they were going to lay hands on the atrocious criminal, +at last; to have seen him slip through their fingers—the thought of +this almost brought tears to their eyes: they were in a state of the +deepest despondency.</p> + +<p>"There's a curse on us!" cried Fandor. "This time, at any rate, we have +nothing to reproach ourselves with! We could not foresee that!..." Then, +to himself in a low tone, he added:</p> + +<p>"Poor Elizabeth!... How are we to tell her that we have let her +brother's murderer escape?"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XXVIII" id="XXVIII"></a>XXVIII</h2> + +<h3>COURAGE</h3> + + +<p>"Have some more chicken?"</p> + +<p>"No, thanks: I am not hungry."</p> + +<p>"But you should eat all the same!"</p> + +<p>"Are you eating anything yourself?"</p> + +<p>"Faith, I am not!"</p> + +<p>"Well, then?"</p> + +<p>In the private room of the Fat-Pheasant restaurant, where Juve and +Fandor were dining, silence again fell. The two men sat motionless, +gazing into space. They neither wished to eat food nor do anything at +all. They were depressed to the last degree; they felt baffled: they +were sick of every mortal thing!</p> + +<p>All of a sudden, Fandor burst into tears. Juve, looking at his dear lad +in such grief, bit his lip; his face with wrinkled brow wore a dejected, +worried look.</p> + +<p>An hour or two previous to that, Fandor, on returning to his flat, had +found a black-edged envelope: the address in Elizabeth Dollon's +handwriting. Fandor had opened it with fast beating heart and trembling +hand!</p> + +<p>For these past days, an evil Fate seemed relentlessly pursuing them. Now +he feared to read of some fresh catastrophe.</p> + +<p>He was reassured by the opening lines; but as he read on, and took in +the meaning of Elizabeth's words, Fandor felt as though his heart were +bursting with grief.</p> + +<p>Elizabeth Dollon had written:</p> + +<p>"I seem to be going mad ... yes, I love you!... Yesterday, I should have +been glad to become your wife; but there came by the same post as your +letter, another, which contained terrible revelations, proofs of their +truth were given me!... I have not the right to curse you—or rather I +have not the strength to do it; but never will I marry you, Jérôme +Fandor, you, Charles Rambert!..."<a name="FNanchor_11_11" id="FNanchor_11_11"></a><a href="#Footnote_11_11" class="fnanchor">[11]</a></p> + +<p>It seemed to Fandor that everything was turning round about him.... He +took a few steps, staggering. The weight of this terrible past, a past +in which he was the innocent victim, but of which he could not clear +himself, overwhelmed him!</p> + +<p>Fandor cried, in a voice of despair:</p> + +<p>"Fantômas! Fantômas has taken his revenge!"</p> + +<p>And before the astounded portress, the unhappy young man turned about +and fell in a heap on the ground.</p> + +<p>On the other hand, shortly after the extraordinary flight of the +banker—Nanteuil to the world in general—but Fantômas to him and +Fandor—Juve had received from Monsieur Annion, the supreme head of the +police detective department, who only manifested himself on sensational +occasions, a note sent by pneumatic post:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"<i>Regret keenly that you revealed your personality in such +ridiculous circumstances, and that you failed to arrest a great +criminal.</i>"</p></div> + +<p>As Juve read these observations, he clinched his fists: he grew livid +with rage!</p> + +<p>Dinner was a mere farce to the two friends: they did not dine: they had +no appetite! Juve and Fandor went over and over in their minds the +deplorable events of which, all said and done, they were the victims. +They gazed at each other full of self-pity. They felt they were two +derelicts afloat on the immense sea of indifferent humanity.</p> + +<p>"The worst suffering," said Fandor, with tears of misery in his voice, +"is the pain of love."</p> + +<p>"The most painful of wounds," said Juve bitterly, "is a wound to +self-respect!..."</p> + +<p>These two, men every inch of them, might have their moments of +discouragement, but they were a sporting pair of the finest quality.</p> + +<p>"Fandor!"</p> + +<p>"Juve?"</p> + +<p>"You are courageous?"</p> + +<p>"I have courage, Juve!"</p> + +<p>"Very well, my lad, let us sponge out the past, and start off afresh in +pursuit of Fantômas!... I tell you the struggle has only begun.... +Listen!..."</p> + +<h4>END</h4> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h3>FOOTNOTES</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> See <i>Fantômas</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> See <i>Fantômas</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> See <i>The Exploits of Juve</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4_4" id="Footnote_4_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> See <i>The Exploits of Juve</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_5_5" id="Footnote_5_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_5"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> See <i>The Exploits of Juve</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_6_6" id="Footnote_6_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_6"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> Hooligan.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_7_7" id="Footnote_7_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_7"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> See <i>Fantômas</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_8_8" id="Footnote_8_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_8"><span class="label">[8]</span></a> Stock Exchange.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_9_9" id="Footnote_9_9"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9_9"><span class="label">[9]</span></a> See <i>The Exploits of Juve</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_10_10" id="Footnote_10_10"></a><a href="#FNanchor_10_10"><span class="label">[10]</span></a> Prison van.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_11_11" id="Footnote_11_11"></a><a href="#FNanchor_11_11"><span class="label">[11]</span></a> See <i>Fantômas</i> and <i>The Exploits of Juve</i>.</p></div> + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Messengers of Evil, by +Pierre Souvestre and Marcel Allain + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MESSENGERS OF EVIL *** + +***** This file should be named 28333-h.htm or 28333-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/8/3/3/28333/ + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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