XXVII
THE IMPRINT
"Monsieur Fandor, I am entirely of your opinion!"
Hearing these words, Fandor, who had regained his self-possession, andwas ready to start fighting again if necessary, looked at the individualwho had made this statement--the individual whose face was oddlyfamiliar.
"Who are you?" he asked.
The individual smiled broadly.
"Don't you recognise me?" he asked.
He removed his wig, threw the candle light on himself, and smilinglyannounced his style and title.
"Sergeant Juve, once of the detective force; formerly dead: now amateurpoliceman!"
"You! You, Juve!" cried Fandor. "And to think I suspected you...."
But the two bankers interrupted at one and the same moment.
"What are you doing here?"
Juve smiled.
"The art I practise brought me! Since my interest in the Dollon affairis so keen, I follow it up, I wish to find the secret of it, justthrough love of my art. I dabble in it nowadays."
"But Juve--how did you get here?" questioned Fandor.
"Ah, ha! If you have made some psychological discoveries: if reasoninghas landed you here, now facts have led me here!... You know I wasshadowing the band of Numbers. You know that in the skin of Cranajour Iwas intimate with those rascals. To my astonishment I found that mywretched companions had dealings with the Barbey-Nanteuil bank, who, ofcourse, had no suspicion of it! Are you surprised then that I felt itincumbent on me to visit this bank?... Besides, yesterday, I saw youenter 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 thereforepassed myself off as a workman come to attend to the telephoneinstallation. 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 myplans accordingly. I pretended to leave the premises, but really I hidmyself in the house. Just now, when you called for help, I came to youraid as quickly as I could, naturally!"
"Just as we did!" remarked Monsieur Barbey, looking at his partner.
Monsieur Nanteuil contented himself with a nod. He added:
"Alas, once again that criminal has escaped! Fantomas, since it wasFantomas who was here, just now, Fantomas has got away!" And Nanteuilpointed to the broken window by which it would seem the criminal, takingadvantage of the noise, had escaped.
But both Fandor and Juve shrugged doubtfully.
"You believe then, Monsieur Nanteuil, that Fantomas has left this room?"questioned our young journalist.
"What the devil do you mean?" asked Nanteuil.
Juve demanded.
"Which way did he make his escape?"
Nanteuil pointed.
"Why that way! By this window ... where else?... You can see quite wellthat he has broken the panes!... Why, look! His hooded cloak has gotcaught on the window latch!..."
Fandor lay back in an arm-chair. He seemed much amused. He silenced Juvewith a gesture, and turned to Nanteuil.
"I can assure, dear Monsieur Nanteuil, that Fantomas has not left theroom by this window!..."
"Because?..."
"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 makeus believe he had escaped that way!... Just look at this chair! It isstill strewn with broken bits of glass ... look, there is even a littlebit stuck into the wood!"
"But that proves nothing!... Fantomas has broken the window panes asbest he could, and then made his escape!"
"In that case," insisted Fandor, "dear Monsieur Nanteuil, can youexplain 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-bedsbeneath the window? When day dawns you will see for yourself that mystatement is correct, though I have not verified it! The flower-beds aretoo 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 manwho leaps down on to them from this height!... Nevertheless, suchfootprints are conspicuous by their absence!"
Monsieur Barbey seemed overwhelmed--aghast.
"If Fantomas did not escape by the window, how then did he get away?" heasked.
Fandor said in clear, distinct tones:
"Fantomas was not able to escape!..."
"But he cannot be in the room?... Where, then, can he have hiddenhimself?"
In a hard voice, Fandor made answer.
"He is not hidden in the room...."
"You think then that he has hidden himself somewhere in the house?"
Speaking in the same hard, decisive tone, Fandor asserted:
"He is not hidden in the house! In the very height of the struggle, Ikept a strict watch on the direction taken by the man who was doing hisutmost to strangle me. I am positive I had my back against the doorwhen I fired, so that exit was barred! Neither by door nor window didFantomas escape!" Fandor's tone was one of absolute assurance.
"If you are certain of that," said Nanteuil, "can you tell us howFantomas did escape?"
Fandor's reply was to rise from his arm-chair. He took the candlestickfrom the table where Juve had placed it and walked towards a largemirror. He carefully examined his neck.
"Very curious!" said he, in a low voice...: "Now, monsieur, the man whotried to strangle me was Fantomas--we have seen him.... Well, this manhad a wound on his thumb, or, more probably, he wounded me, anyhow hehas left on my collar the mark of his thumb in blood--you guess whatthis thumb-mark is?"
Simultaneously, Barbey, Nanteuil, and Juve rushed towards the youngjournalist.... Fandor showed them a little red mark, clear cut on thewhite surface of the collar; it was a finger-print so characteristic,that the two bankers cried in a trembling voice:
"Again the imprint of Jacques Dollon!"
Silence fell--a pregnant silence. The four men gazed at one another.Fandor soon started whistling a popular air. Juve smiled: MonsieurBarbey was the first to speak:
"Good Heavens! Do you mean to say that Jacques Dollon was here--in thisroom!... It is certain, you say, Monsieur Fandor, that he did not getaway either by door or window--for pity's sake explain the mystery!"
But Fandor contented himself with a smile and a question.
"Do you really think, then, that I know it?..."
Nanteuil stamped with impatience.
"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 fromend to end!..."
Fandor went on--his tone was ironic.
"And warn the police? Well, no, Monsieur Nanteuil, we will not make anysearch whatever, you can rely on that!... For the last three months wehave been striving and struggling to solve a maddening mystery: we nevercould reach a certain solution of it: we have been vainly pursuing anassassin, who for ever escaped us ... and now, when for once, we gethold of a definite fact, an indisputable reality, are we going to riskmuddling up the whole business?... Not if I know it!"
"What do you mean?" demanded Monsieur Barbey.
"Listen!" replied Fandor: "Some minutes ago, I was alone in this room;Jacques Dollon entered the room, because I bear on my neck the imprintof his thumb. Jacques Dollon was Fantomas, because he declared ithimself when he believed he would emerge victorious from the struggle.Jacques Dollon--Fantomas--has not left this room, either by door orwindow. On the other hand, you have entered the room--you MonsieurBarbey, you Monsieur Nanteuil, and you Juve. Since these individualshave entered the room, and no one has left it, it necessarily followsthat the personage, Jacques Dollon--Fantomas, must have entered amongyou, and that he has remained here, between these four walls."
Simultaneously, Barbey and Nanteuil raised protesting voices: but Juvecontinued to smile.
"Do you believe then?..."
But Jerome Fandor did not allow him to finish.
"I do not _think_ anything," said he. "I _know_ that I, Jerome Fandor,am I, and that I am not Jac
ques Dollon!... Juve knows that he is Juve,and that he is not Jacques Dollon. You, Monsieur Barbey; you, MonsieurNanteuil, you know who you are, and who you are not! None of us canleave imprints similar to those of Jacques Dollon. But, I also know,that Jacques Dollon has entered this room, and that he has not leftit--this is all that I know!"
To this extraordinary declaration, Monsieur Nanteuil, with anincredulous shrug of the shoulders, exclaimed:
"This is downright madness, monsieur!"
But Juve congratulated Fandor.
"That's logic, my boy! You are going it strong, lad!"
Fandor continued.
"It follows, that if Jacques Dollon has not left the room, he must behere in this room. He must be arrested. In order to arrest him, we mustbeg Monsieur Havard to come here as fast as he possibly can! JacquesDollon is Fantomas, or I should say, Fantomas is Jacques Dollon.Monsieur Havard will not hesitate to put himself to any inconvenience inorder to effect such a capture! I am going to call him up at once,messieurs, thanks to this telephone!"
And profiting by the bewilderment of his hearers, Fandor, then andthere, telephoned to Police Headquarters; he spoke to one of theofficials, who undertook to inform his chief that he was wanted at thetelephone on most urgent business.
A minute or two later, Fandor was telling Monsieur Havard what hadhappened. He terminated his narrative thus:
"I myself had locked the door of the room in which the struggle tookplace. No one left the room, nor shall anyone leave it before yourarrival, I give you my word of honour on that! Come, post-haste. It isof the utmost urgency. Bring a locksmith. He must open the great door ofthe house. He will have to force open the door of the room in which wenow are. I must keep an incessant watch over this room. I do not seeFantomas--Jacques Dollon--in this room; but in this room he mustinevitably be--he _is_ in it!"
Fandor, listening to Monsieur Havard's answer, repeated it to hiscompanions.
"In a very short time, the chief will be here; in a very short time,messieurs, we shall witness the arrest of Fantomas, that is, of the mostinhuman monster that has ever existed!"
"It seems to me you are going too fast!" remarked Monsieur Barbey. "Allis mystery--yet you talk of making an arrest!"
"But what do you consider mysterious now?" asked Fandor, laughing.
"Why, everything! Take one thing: do you know what were the motives ofthe different Fantomas-Dollon crimes?"
Juve replied to this:
"Oh, as for that, perfectly! The motives are clear as crystal!... Madamede Vibray was ruined, and really committed suicide because--you willpardon me, I am sure--because the Bourse transactions you advised werenot successful.... She poisoned herself, and went to Jacques Dollon'sstudio to die: perhaps she felt for him a secret attachment! Fate willedit that the assassins should choose this very evening to make their wayinto the painter's studio ... by means of this first corpse they createdan alibi for themselves, and prepared the scene which was bound tomislead justice and make lawyers and police believe in the murder ofMadame de Vibray and the suicide of her murderer.... Unfortunately forthem, Dollon was discovered before the poison they administered had doneits deadly work on him, and Dollon was arrested.... You can imagine thefury, the distracted state of the guilty! Dollon had seen them--he wasgoing to speak at the legal interrogation--very well, then--they willkill him--and they do kill him...."
"But Jacques Dollon lives, since his imprints are found here, there andeverywhere!..." cried Monsieur Barbey.
Fandor replied:
"They kill Jacques Dollon, since it has been formally established thatJacques Dollon was seen dead; and once they have killed Dollon, theythink that a dead man cannot be arrested by the police, and _they acceptthis dead man as one of their band_.... He, they decide, shall steal thepearls of Princess Danidoff!..."
"This is raving lunacy!"
"All that is pretty clearly proved, Monsieur Nanteuil!... It is he alsowho stole the millions in the rue du Quatre Septembre, a sensationalrobbery which would have ruined your bank, had not this issue of bullionbeen well covered by an insurance: this insurance signified that youwere no losers by this robbery--in fact, owing to an ingeniouscombination of insurances, you have actually gained by the robbery! Aswe are on this subject, I might add that were I a member of the Band Ishould propose restoring to you the vanished ingots--robbers findbullion somewhat difficult to put into circulation: you might buy themback; then turn them into false coin, for instance--that would be allprofit--for you!..."
"I wonder at you--making such a joke as that!" remarked Nanteuil.
"Please wonder at me!... To continue!... Having carried out their plansuccessfully, these robbers remembered something they had forgotten--acompromising paper, or something like it, which had been left inElizabeth Dollon's possession. Thereupon, they send the deadman--Jacques Dollon--to look for it: he attempts to murder his sister: Iarrive just in time to open the windows before she is past all humanaid.... Meanwhile a series of cleverly arranged deals on the Bourse arebrought off, so that if Thomery disappeared the Barbey-Nanteuil Bankwould rake in important profits ... in haste the assassins get rid of anaccomplice who is in their way--that duffer of a Jules, the rue Raffetservant, and they send Dollon to kill Thomery. After that they decide torob your Bank which is stuffed with gold; for, were it not for thistheft, it would be your Bank, burdened as it is, with Thomery shares,which would pay out to speculators the differences in value between pastand present prices--which amounts would have to come out of the moneypaid in the day before. Messieurs, with regard to this, Thomery's deathdid you a great service.... Without his death, which enriched you, youwould have had to settle up your sales by a certain date, and you wouldhave lost more than you gained at the moment, owing to the sole fact ofhis disappearance!... I think you are very grateful to Jacques Dollonbecause of what he has done for you."
Monsieur Nanteuil, on hearing these last words, rose. He walked up tothe journalist and said, in a voice quivering with some emotion:
"For my part, Monsieur Fandor, I think your way of explaining the Dollonaffair is a very strange way!... You assert that this painter is dead,and you make him behave as if he were alive!... Besides, I haveunderstood your words! In truth, what you say is senseless: you makewild statements! You have involved our Bank in every one of the Dolloncrimes!... You have shown us as interested parties in all theserobberies!"
Fandor said quietly:
"Nevertheless, it is unquestionably true that you are the gainers bythese crimes: beginning with Madame de Vibray and ending with Thomery.Madame de Vibray might have brought an action against you for the lossof her fortune, owing to your risky speculations and bad management.Thomery's murder brought down his shares with a run, and you found thata most advantageous state of affairs--you gained by it!... But, ofcourse, this is coincidence, since you are not Fantomas, since you arenot Jacques Dollon, since you cannot imitate the imprint of histhumb!... I have only said this to show ..." Fandor stopped short.
"Hark!... Someone is coming upstairs! Here is Monsieur Havard!"
As the bankers were hurrying impatiently to the door, Fandor said in abantering tone:
"Do not stir a step further, I beg of you! Not a step! Let us receivethe chief of the detective force exactly in the position we were, not anhour ago, when we encountered him whom the chief has now come toarrest!"
Barbey and Nanteuil returned to their former positions. Those in theroom could hear voices on the other side of the door exchanging briefremarks. The lock was being picked. Monsieur Havard entered and hurriedup to the journalist.
"Well, my dear Fandor, I have followed all your instructions to theletter!... Ah! you here, too, Juve! Well?... Speak! Anything fresh sinceyour extraordinary telephone communication?... What were you tellingme?"
"I was saying, Monsieur Havard, that the assassin had entered this room,and assuredly had not left it--that he was here!..."
"Here?"
Monsieur Havard had recognised the bankers at the first glance
.... Hisquestion betrayed a certain incredulity which piqued Fandor.
"Here! Yes! That is absolutely so, because it is impossible that he canhave left the room! Besides, you shall convince yourself of that!...Monsieur Nanteuil, will you do me a small service? Will you draw a planof the first floor of your house?"
The banker rose and seated himself at his writing-table, which wasplaced in a corner of the room.
"I am at your disposal." And he began to trace a plan, a pretty roughone, of the various rooms which made up the first floor of his house.
"Is that what you want?" he asked.
Jerome Fandor rose quickly and went towards Nanteuil.
The journalist's nerves must have been out of order--in a jumpy state,despite his apparent calm, for, in approaching the writing-table, hesuddenly staggered, nearly fell, tried to regain his balance, and thatso clumsily that he upset the contents of a large ink-pot on thewriting-desk....
"Take care!" said Monsieur Nanteuil, who, to save himself from cominginto contact with this inky inundation, threw himself back in his chair,and lifted his hands above the flood of ink....
The banker repeated:
"Take care!... Here is a fresh catastrophe!..."
But he did not finish what he intended to say! Quick as thought, Fandorsteadied himself, and before anyone could guess his intention he seizedthe banker's right hand, pushed it forcibly into the wide-spreading ink,then, immediately after, pressed it on to a sheet of blotting paperwhich took the hand's imprint quite clearly....
This imprint he glanced at but a moment.... Like a flag, he waved itabove his head!
"_It is the Jacques Dollon imprint!_" he shouted. "_The hand of MonsieurNanteuil, whose characteristics are known in the anthropometric section,has just left the imprint of--Jacques Dollon!..._"
The journalist's action created a momentary stupour!
Juve rushed to him.
"Bravo! Bravo!" he cried.
But Monsieur Havard had gone quite pale. He said in a low voice:
"I don't understand!"
Barbey and Nanteuil retained their self-possession!
Then Monsieur Barbey rose. He looked fixedly at his partner. He spoke ina tone of sad finality:
"I suspected this!... Farewell...."
A shout of horror answered him: he had drawn a sharp dagger from insidehis coat, and had plunged it in his heart up to the hilt!
Juve knelt by the fallen man. Monsieur Havard kept a sharp eye onNanteuil.
"Here, then, is Jacques Dollon, the dead-alive!... Here is the elusiveFantomas!" said the chief of the detective force.
But the bandit brazened it out as he recoiled before the chief.
"Why do you arrest me because of this imprint?" he demanded. "It is apiece of juggling on the part of this journalist!... Take a freshimprint of my hand, my fingers, my thumb, and you will see whether myhand could possibly leave such an impression as that put on the blottingpad, by some sleight-of-hand trick of this much too smart reporter!" Hestretched out his arm in the direction of the blotting pad, as thoughbegging for a fresh trial....
Fandor marched up to Nanteuil.
"Useless," said he, in a curt tone. "I have been watching you!... I knowthe trick!"
Nanteuil stood stock-still, dumb. Fandor lifted the cuff of Nanteuil'scoat, and pointed out to Monsieur Havard, and to Juve, a sort of thinfilm of glove-like form. It was fastened to the wrist by an almostimperceptible piece of elastic.
"This is human skin," said Fandor. "Human skin marvellously preserved bysome special process: all its lines and marks are intact. Can you notguess whence it came? Do you need to be told whose dead body hassupplied this phantom glove?"
Monsieur Havard was as white as a sheet.
"The body of Jacques Dollon," he murmured.... "Yes, that is it!..."
There was a moment's intense silence in the room.
"How do you imagine this wretch set to work?" demanded Monsieur Havard.
"Simple enough," replied Fandor.... "Fantomas knows the danger criminalsrun, owing to the exact science of anthropometry: he knows that everyimprint denounces the assassin: he knows that it is difficult to doanything without leaving such imprints--and that is why, every time hehas committed a crime, he has taken care to glove his hands in the skinof Jacques Dollon's hands."
Nanteuil, at bay, attempted denial.
"You are talking mere newspaper romance," said he.
Fandor looked the banker in the eye.
"Fantomas!" said he. "Do not attempt to deny what is no longer possibleto deny!... The trick is remarkably clever, and you have reason to beproud of your invention. Perhaps I should never have discovered it, ifin this very room, this very night, you had not been imprudent enough toleave those imprints on my collar!... No one had left the room,therefore the guilty person was in the room--of necessity he was:_therefore, it followed, that someone had the hands of Dollon!..._ Buthow could this someone have the hands of Dollon?... Of course,naturally, the idea of these gloves occurred to me!..."
Fandor turned to the chief of the detective force.
"Monsieur Havard, Madame de Vibray committed suicide because she losther fortune through Barbey-Nanteuil mismanagement--she might even havebeen poisoned by them! But that does not matter! Her death mightcompromise the Bank: they carried her dead body to Jacques Dollon'sstudio, and they tried to poison this painter, in order to put the lawoff their track. You know Dollon was saved! He was a dangerous witness.They killed him in his cell, some warder being accessory to thefact--killed him before his innocence could be established! Then theytook his hands, that they might commit murders with them!... Dollon isdead, as I have held all along. It is Nanteuil who has committed thecrimes ascribed to the most unfortunate Dollon. These crimes haveprofited the Barbey-Nanteuil Bank--as I pointed out just now!"
* * * * *
Whilst Nanteuil stood speechless, whilst Barbey, whom they had lifted toa sofa, was gasping out his last breath, whilst Juve was giving littlenods of approval to what his dear lad was saying, Fandor was treatingMonsieur Havard to a further version of the affair.
"When I telephoned to you I was morally certain of the approachingarrest. Not a soul quitted the room after the hands of Dollon had leftimprints on my collar and on my neck. Therefore someone had the hands ofDollon. The finger imprints of all the personages present were known tome--therefore someone had a method by which he changed his ownfinger-prints into those of Dollon.... How was it done? It must be aremovable method or means ... why, of course, it could only be by a pairof gloves that the trick was done ... of course it must be by means of_a pair of gloves made with the skin of Jacques Dollon's hands_!... Inoticed that Nanteuil kept his hands obstinately behind his back. Iguessed that it was he who had played the part of Dollon to-night, so Imanaged to prevent him removing those Dollon gloves, that I might taketheir imprint before your eyes--the rest can be guessed, can it not?...The imprint taken, profiting by the confusion, Nanteuil slipped off theglove which, as you see, was no thicker than a cigarette when rolledup.... To throw it aside was risky: he pushed it up his sleeve whilepretending to arrange his cuff, and at the same time to put ink on hisungloved hand and so hide his trick!... Only I saw it all.... MonsieurHavard, it is not only the false Jacques Dollon I denounce, for Juve andI fully realised that he was also the elusive Fantomas! Here is thiscloak with hooded mask, which is an irrefutable proof: besides hehimself declared he was Fantomas.... Monsieur Havard, all you have to donow is seize this man: Juve and I will hand him over to you!"
It was a thrilling moment! Juve and Fandor, in this hour of decisivevictory, mutely embraced. Monsieur Havard advanced with raised handstowards Nanteuil who retreated.
"Fantomas," he commenced, "in the name of the law I arr..."
The word was strangled in his throat!...
As he advanced another step, Nanteuil suddenly sprang backwards, and hishand rested on the moulding of a wooden panel.... At the same moment,Monsieur Havard, as if hampered b
y some invisible obstacle, stretchedhis length on the floor!
Juve and Fandor were about to rush to his aid ... but while Fandor, inhis turn, measured his length on the floor also, Juve yelled:
"Good lord!... We are caught!... He escapes!..."
Whilst the detective made a frantic effort to move a step--_he seemednailed to the floor_--Fantomas, quick as lightning, leaped over theprone body of Monsieur Havard, gained the door, and banged it to behindhim!... They heard a triumphant burst of laughter.... Fantomas wasescaping!
"This is sorcery!" shouted the chief of the detective force, in a voicehoarse with rage.
"Take your boots off!... Take your boots off!" yelled Juve, who, withbare feet, was rushing through the house, revolver in hand, hoping tocome up with the banker bandit!...
But, when the detective arrived at the entrance gateway of the house, hefound the policemen brought by Monsieur Havard chatting away quietly ...they had not seen a thing ... the street was deserted ... in a secondFantomas had disappeared, vanished into thin air ... he, the elusiveone, had got away: once more he had escaped those who were pursuing himwith such keen determination!
* * * * *
"It is very simple," explained Juve to Monsieur Havard and Fandor, whoseemed deprived of speech. "Yes, it is simple enough; I guessed it atonce when I saw you fall, Monsieur Havard, just after Fantomas hadpressed the woodwork."
"He pressed an electric button, did he not?"
"Yes, Fandor, he established a current!... The wretch must have placedpowerful electric magnets under the floor ... and the moment he realisedthat it was impossible to brazen it out any longer--was on the verypoint of being arrested--he established the current ... so we three werenailed to the ground by the attraction exercised by theseelectro-magnets on the nails of our shoes--he, Fantomas, was then freeto cut and run for it, whose shoes must certainly have had soles made ofsome insulating material...."
Monsieur Havard and Fandor made no answer to this.
To have held Fantomas at their mercy, if only for a minute; to havebelieved that they were going to lay hands on the atrocious criminal,at last; to have seen him slip through their fingers--the thought ofthis almost brought tears to their eyes: they were in a state of thedeepest despondency.
"There's a curse on us!" cried Fandor. "This time, at any rate, we havenothing to reproach ourselves with! We could not foresee that!..." Then,to himself in a low tone, he added:
"Poor Elizabeth!... How are we to tell her that we have let herbrother's murderer escape?"
XXVIII
COURAGE
"Have some more chicken?"
"No, thanks: I am not hungry."
"But you should eat all the same!"
"Are you eating anything yourself?"
"Faith, I am not!"
"Well, then?"
In the private room of the Fat-Pheasant restaurant, where Juve andFandor were dining, silence again fell. The two men sat motionless,gazing into space. They neither wished to eat food nor do anything atall. They were depressed to the last degree; they felt baffled: theywere sick of every mortal thing!
All of a sudden, Fandor burst into tears. Juve, looking at his dear ladin such grief, bit his lip; his face with wrinkled brow wore a dejected,worried look.
An hour or two previous to that, Fandor, on returning to his flat, hadfound a black-edged envelope: the address in Elizabeth Dollon'shandwriting. Fandor had opened it with fast beating heart and tremblinghand!
For these past days, an evil Fate seemed relentlessly pursuing them. Nowhe feared to read of some fresh catastrophe.
He was reassured by the opening lines; but as he read on, and took inthe meaning of Elizabeth's words, Fandor felt as though his heart werebursting with grief.
Elizabeth Dollon had written:
"I seem to be going mad ... yes, I love you!... Yesterday, I should havebeen glad to become your wife; but there came by the same post as yourletter, another, which contained terrible revelations, proofs of theirtruth were given me!... I have not the right to curse you--or rather Ihave not the strength to do it; but never will I marry you, JeromeFandor, you, Charles Rambert!..."[11]
[Footnote 11: See _Fantomas_ and _The Exploits of Juve_.]
It seemed to Fandor that everything was turning round about him.... Hetook a few steps, staggering. The weight of this terrible past, a pastin which he was the innocent victim, but of which he could not clearhimself, overwhelmed him!
Fandor cried, in a voice of despair:
"Fantomas! Fantomas has taken his revenge!"
And before the astounded portress, the unhappy young man turned aboutand fell in a heap on the ground.
On the other hand, shortly after the extraordinary flight of thebanker--Nanteuil to the world in general--but Fantomas to him andFandor--Juve had received from Monsieur Annion, the supreme head of thepolice detective department, who only manifested himself on sensationaloccasions, a note sent by pneumatic post:
"_Regret keenly that you revealed your personality in such ridiculous circumstances, and that you failed to arrest a great criminal._"
As Juve read these observations, he clinched his fists: he grew lividwith rage!
Dinner was a mere farce to the two friends: they did not dine: they hadno appetite! Juve and Fandor went over and over in their minds thedeplorable events of which, all said and done, they were the victims.They gazed at each other full of self-pity. They felt they were twoderelicts afloat on the immense sea of indifferent humanity.
"The worst suffering," said Fandor, with tears of misery in his voice,"is the pain of love."
"The most painful of wounds," said Juve bitterly, "is a wound toself-respect!..."
These two, men every inch of them, might have their moments ofdiscouragement, but they were a sporting pair of the finest quality.
"Fandor!"
"Juve?"
"You are courageous?"
"I have courage, Juve!"
"Very well, my lad, let us sponge out the past, and start off afresh inpursuit of Fantomas!... I tell you the struggle has only begun....Listen!..."
END
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