XXXI

  LOVERS AND ACCOMPLICES

  "Oh! who is that?"

  From the shadow issued some one who calmly replied:

  "It is I."

  "Ah!--I know you now, but why this disguise?"

  "Madame the Superior--I present myself--Doctor Chaleck. Isn't mydisguise as good as yours?"

  "What do you want of me? Speak quickly, I am frightened."

  "To begin with, I thank you for coming to the tryst at your house--atours. For five Tuesdays I have waited in vain. But first, madame,explain your sudden conversion, the reason of your sudden entry intoOrders. That is a strange device for the mistress of Gurn."

  Doctor Chaleck held under the lash of his irony the unhappy woman whoseemed overcome by anxiety. The two were facing each other in the largeroom that formed the middle of the first floor of the house in BoulevardInkermann at Neuilly. It was, in fact, the only room fit to use: theyhad left to neglect and inclement weather the other rooms in the elegantmansion which some years before was considered in the Parisian world asone of the most comfortable and luxurious in the foreign colony.

  It was in truth here that in days gone by the tragic drama had beenplayed: death had laid its cold hand upon the gilded trappings of thegreat apartment and laughter and joy had taken flight. However, timepasses so quickly and evil memories so soon grow dim that many hadforgotten the grim happenings which three years before had beset themansion on the Boulevard.

  It was at first the deep mourning of Lady Beltham whose husband had beenmysteriously done to death at Belleville. Then, some weeks later,occurred the awful scene of the arrest of Lord Beltham's murderer, justas he was leaving the house, an arrest due to Juve, who, though hesucceeded in laying hands on the assassin, the infamous Gurn, was notable to prove--sure though he might be of it--that the slayer of thehusband was the lover of the wife.

  After these shocking events Lady Beltham left France, dismissing themany attendants with whom she loved to surround herself like a truequeen of beauty, luxury and wealth.

  At rare intervals the Lady, whose existence grew more and moremysterious, went back for a few days to her house at Neuilly. She wouldvanish, would reappear, living like a recluse, almost in entiresolitude, receiving none of her old acquaintances.

  About a year ago she seemed to want to settle finally at BoulevardInkermann. Workmen began to put the house in order again, the lodge wasopened and a family of caretakers came; then suddenly the work had beenbroken off; some weeks went by while Lady Beltham lived alone with hercompanion; then both disappeared.

  Lady Beltham shivered, and, gathering about her shoulders the cloakwhich covered her religious habit, muttered: "I'm cold."

  "Beastly weather, and to think this is July."

  Chaleck crossed to a register in the corner of the room.

  "No good to leave that open! An icy wind comes through the passage tothe cellar."

  Lady Beltham turned in alarm toward her enigmatic companion.

  "Why did you let it be supposed I was dead?"

  "Why did you yourself leave here two days before the crime at the CiteFrochot?"

  Lady Beltham hung her head and with a sob in her voice:

  "I was deserted and jealous. Besides, I was enduring frightful remorse.The idea had come to me to write down the terrible secret which hauntedmy spirit, to give the story to some one I could trust, an attorney, andthen----"

  "Go on, pray!"

  "And, then, what I had written suddenly vanished. It was after that Ilost my head and fled. I had long been meaning to withdraw from theworld. The Sisters of St. Clotilde offered to receive me in their houseat Nogent."

  Chaleck added brutally:

  "That isn't all. You forgot to say you were afraid. Come, be frank,afraid of Gurn, of me!"

  "Well, yes, I was afraid, not so much of you, but of our crimes. I amalso afraid of dying."

  "That confession you wrote became known to some one who confided it tome."

  "Heavens," murmured the unhappy woman. "Who mentioned it?"

  Chaleck had again crossed to the register, which, although closed by himsome moments before, was open again, letting into the room a blast oficy air from the basement.

  "This can't stay shut, it must be seen to," he muttered.

  Lady Beltham, shaken by a nervous tremour, insisted:

  "Who betrayed me? Who told?"

  Chaleck seated himself by her side.

  "You remember Valgrand, the actor? Well, Valgrand was married. His wifesought to clear up the mystery of his disappearance and went--where, Iask you? Why, to you, Lady Beltham! You took her as companion! It wouldhave been impossible to introduce a more redoubtable spy into the housethan the widow Valgrand, known by you under the false name of Mme.Raymond."

  Lady Beltham remained panic-stricken.

  "We are lost!"

  Chaleck squeezed her two hands in a genuine burst of affection.

  "We are saved!" he shouted. "Mme. Raymond will talk no more!"

  "The body at the Cite Frochot!"

  Chaleck nodded. "Yes."

  She looked at him in alarm, mingled with repulsion and horror.

  "Now, understand that that death saved you, and if I saved you it isbecause I loved you, love you still, will always love you!"

  Lady Beltham, overcome, let herself fall into Chaleck's arms, her headresting on her lover's shoulder as she wept hot tears.

  Lady Beltham was once more enslaved, a captive! More than two years agoshe had broken with the mysterious and terrible being whom she had onceegged on to kill her husband, and with whom she then committed the mostappalling of crimes. During this separation the unhappy woman had triedto pull herself together, to acquire a fresh honesty of mind and body, anew soul; dreamed of finding again in religion some help, someforgetfulness. She had later experienced the frightful tortures ofjealousy, knowing her late lover had mistresses! But she resisted thecraving to see him again, and pictured him to herself in such terribleguise that she felt an overwhelming fear of finding herself face to facewith him. Now the season of calm and quiet she had evoked was suddenlydispelled. First came the mysterious disappearance of her confession andthe weird crime of the Cite Frochot following on its loss. To be sureshe did not then know that Doctor Chaleck, of whom the papers spoke, wasnone other than Gurn, but had they not in _La Capitale_ spoken ofFantomas in that connection? And at this disquieting comparison LadyBeltham had felt sinister forebodings. Other mysteries had thensupervened, unaccountable to the guilty lady who by that time wasalready seeking her new birth in the bosom of Religion. Alas! hermiseries were to grow definite enough.

  At the very gate of the convent an innocent man, Bonardin, the actor,fell victim to the attack of Juve, also innocent, and in that affair shefelt the complicity of her late lover grow more and more certain. Shethen received a letter from him, followed by a second. Gurn called herto his place--their place--the mansion at Neuilly, every Tuesday night.She held out several times despite threatened reprisals. At last sheyielded and went: she expected Gurn--it was Chaleck she found. The twowere one!

  From henceforth she was faced with this accomplice, guilty of newcrimes, clothed in a new personality, already under suspicion, whichdoubtless he would cast off only to assume another which would enablehim still further to extend the list of his crimes! But despite all thehorror her lover inspired her with she felt herself tamed again,powerless to resist him, ready to do anything the moment he bade her!

  She inquired feebly:

  "Who was it killed Mme. Raymond? Was it that ruffian--whom they speak ofin the papers--Loupart?"

  "Well, not exactly!"

  "Then was it you? Speak, I would rather know."

  "It was neither he nor I, and yet it was to some extent both."

  "I do not understand."

  "It is rather difficult to understand. Our 'executioner' does not lackoriginality. I may say it is something which lives yet does not think."

  "Who is it! Who is it!"

  "Why not as
k Detective Juve. Oh! Juve, too, would like to know who thedeuce all these people are. Gurn, Chaleck, Loupart, and, aboveall--Fantomas!"

  "Fantomas! Ah, I scarcely dare utter that name. And yet a doubtoppresses my heart! Tell me, are you not, yourself--Fantomas?"

  Chaleck freed himself gently, for Lady Beltham had wound her arms roundhis neck.

  "I know nothing, I am merely the lover who loves you."

  "Then let us go far away. Let us begin a new existence together. Willyou? Come!" She stopped all at once--"I heard a noise." Chaleck, too,listened. Some slight creakings had, indeed, disturbed the hush of theroom. But outside the wind and the rain whirled around the dilapidated,lonely abode, and it was not surprising that unaccountable sounds shouldbe audible in the stillness. Once more Lady Beltham built up her plans,catching a glimpse of a future all peace and happiness.

  With a brief, harsh remark, Chaleck brought her back to reality.

  "All that cannot be, at least for the moment, we must first----"

  Lady Beltham laid her hand on his lips.

  "Do not speak!" she begged. "A fresh crime--that's what you mean?"

  "A vengeance, an execution! A man has set himself to run me down, hasdetermined my ruin: between us it is a struggle without quarter; my lifeis not safe but at the cost of his, so he must perish. In four days theywill find Detective Juve dead in his own bed. And with him will finallyvanish the fiction he has evoked of Fantomas! Fantomas! Ah, if societyknew--if humanity, instead of being what it is--but it matters little!"

  "And Fantomas? What will become of him--of you?"

  "Have I told you that I was Fantomas?"

  "No," stammered she, "but----"

  * * * * *

  The dim light of a pale dawn filtered through the closed shutters of thebig drawing-room in which lover and mistress had met again, after longweeks of separation, to call up sinister memories. For all their hopesthe limit of the tribulations to which they were a prey seemed still faroff.

  Chaleck blew out the lamp. He drew aside the curtains. Sharply he put anend to the interview:

  "I am off, Lady Beltham. Soon we shall meet again. Never let anyonesuspect what we have said to each other--Farewell."

  The hapless woman, crushed and broken by emotion, remained nearly anhour alone in the great room. Then the requirements of her official lifecame to her mind. It was necessary to return to the convent at Nogent.

  * * * * *

  Extricating themselves painfully from the pipes of the great stove, Juveand Fandor, covered with plaster, wreathed with cobwebs, and freelysprinkled with dust, fell back suddenly into the middle of the cellar.The two men, heedless of the disarray of their dress and their painfulcramped limbs, spoke both at once, dumbfounded but joyful:

  "Well, Juve?"

  "Well, Fandor, we got something for our money."

  "Oh, what a lovely night, Juve; I wouldn't have given up my place for afortune."

  "We had front seats, though to be sure the velvet armchairs werelacking."

  They were silent for a moment, their minds fully occupied with a crowdof ideas. So Chaleck and Loupart were one and the same? And Lady Belthamwas indeed the accomplice of Gurn. An unhappy accomplice, repentant,wretched, a criminal through love.

  "Fandor, they are ours now. Let us act!"

  The pair, not sorry to breathe a little more easily than they had donefor the past few hours, went upstairs, reached the ground floor and madetheir way into the drawing-room, where during the night Doctor Chaleckand Lady Beltham had had their memorable interview.

  Juve, without a word, paced up and down the room, poking in all thecorners, then gave a cry:

  "Here is the famous mouth of the heater which that brute Chaleck triedto shut, and I persisted in opening so as not to lose a word of hisinstructive conversation. No matter, if he felt cold, what did I feellike?"

  "The fact is," added Fandor, whose hoarse voice bore witness to thedifficulties he had just passed through, "these stove pipes have verylittle comfort about them."

  "What can you expect?" cried Juve. "The architect did not think of uswhen he built the house. And now, Fandor, we have a hard task before usand we need all the luck we can get. For certainly it is Fantomas wehave unearthed: Fantomas, the lover of Lady Beltham, the slayer of herhusband, the murderer of Valgrand, the master that got rid of Mme.Raymond! Gurn, Chaleck, Loupart. The one being who can be all those andhimself too--Fantomas."

  As the two friends left Lady Beltham's house without attracting notice,the detective drew from his pocket a species of little scale which heshowed Fandor.

  "What do you make of that?"

  "I haven't the least idea."

  "Well, I have, and it may put us in the way of a great discovery. Didyou notice that Chaleck did not say definitely who the 'executioner' ofMme. Raymond was?"

  "To be sure."

  "Well, I believe that I have a morsel of this 'executioner' in mypocket."