CHAPTER XIX
FREE!
After a brief inspection, a cry of surprise rose to his lips.
"Good Lord!... there he is! Frederick-Christian."
It was indeed the King--a prisoner in the hollow foundations of theSinging Fountains.
"Sire, Sire!"
The King slept on. But his sleep seemed troubled; he breathed in gasps.
"Sire! Sire! Wake up! I have come to save you! Upon my word, that iswhat might be called a royal sleep."
The journalist's words made no impression on the sleeping monarch, so,ignoring all formality, he laid hands upon the King and gave him aviolent shaking.
"For Heaven's sake, try to recognize me ... speak to me ... I am JeromeFandor ... I've come to save you."
In leaning over the sleeping man, Fandor suddenly got a whiff of hisbreath and then drew back, amazed.
"Why, he's drunk! As drunk as a lord! Where the deuce did he get it?...Ah, these empty bottles!... Wine!... and ham ... no wonder! What onearth shall I do with him now? How can I get him out of here? I can'tleave him in the hands of the cutthroats who have imprisoned him.... Butif I do take him away, how the devil will Juve and I be able to catchthe accomplices of Fantomas, if he has any?"
"Juve!"
The very name of the detective gave him an inspiration.
"Yes, that's the only way out of it ... first of all, I must save theKing, get him out of danger, and then arrange a trap to catch my gang."Fandor deliberated a moment.
"There's no doubt I shall run the risk of being killed in his place, butthat's a risk I shall have to take."
And then a smile spread over the journalist's features.
"What an idiot I am! After all, there's no danger ... it was a happythought of mine leaving that note for Juve ... he'll come to-morrow atthe latest ... that gives me the rest of the night."
Fandor's ruse, its daring and its almost unheard of devotion, appearedto him quite natural. It was simply to set the King at liberty andremain himself in his place.
While he undoubtedly ran the risk of a bullet in his body, yet thecarefully drawn plan he had left in Juve's rooms would enable thedetective to find his prison without difficulty.
* * * * *
The first problem that presented itself was to get the drunken Kingaway.
Frederick-Christian lay, an inert mass, quite incapable of rendering anyassistance. Fandor began by drawing himself up to the opening and takinga look around. The Place de la Concorde was deserted.
"Well, to work!" he cried. "There is nothing for me to do but to haulhim out, then put the body of the statue back in place.... If in threedays nothing happens, why I shall be free to leave. The ham will keep megoing, and as for the wine ... Ah! an idea!"
The journalist seized half a dozen of the empty bottles, climbed out andfilled them with water; returning, he drew from his pocket a thin silkcord he had taken from Juve's room. By its aid and with a strength ofwhich his slender figure gave no evidence, he succeeded in hauling theKing up to the open air.
"And now for another foot bath," exclaimed Fandor; "saving Kings is asorry business."
Having waded again through the icy water of the basin, Fandor carriedthe unconscious monarch upon his shoulders and deposited his burden onthe sidewalk. He was about to regain his dungeon when he suddenlypaused:
"The deuce! I was forgetting! When he becomes sober again, he'll haveforgotten all about his adventure ... he'll kick up a row at the RoyalPalace.... I must warn him."
Fandor took out his notebook, wrote a few lines which he enclosed in anenvelope and pinned it upon the King's coat. Upon the envelope waswritten:
"I am to read this when I wake."
His next proceeding was to blow a shrill whistle.
"It's your turn now, my dear Wulf ... you won't find the fair unknownyou expect, but you'll get back your Prince, slightly the worse forwear."
The journalist now swung the statue back in place, exclaiming:
"Au revoir, Monsieur, I'm off to take your place ... sorry I can't stayto see the meeting with Wulf ... he'll find his King somewhatchanged.... I ought to have given you my moustache and beard."
* * * * *
Fandor passed a horrible night. He was obliged to economize the use ofhis electric lamp, which was only capable of giving several hours oflight, so after a careful survey of his lodging, he extinguished it andlay down to get what rest he could.
"Not much fun for the King here!" he thought, "it's devilishmonotonous ... can't see anything, and nothing to hear ... hold on,I can distinguish three separate noises, the plash of the water from thefountains, the rumble of carriages, and that heavy sound can only be thepassage of trains from the North-South in the tunnel, which if I mistakenot is right under my prison ... and these Singing Fountains ... theyare accounted for by the King howling when he got drunk ... but whatabout the night Susy d'Orsel was killed?... The King wasn't here then,and yet they were heard singing?"
Fandor was not long in reaching the solution of the mystery.
"What a fool I am!... the murder of Susy d'Orsel, the imprisonment ofthe King, are both the work of Fantomas! Fantomas must have known thishiding place a long time ago.... It was he who tried the experiment ofmaking the statues sing to find out whether the sound could be heardabove.... And to think that this monster has been arrested by Juve! Andwithout me, too!... I shall have only the glory of showing up a few ofhis accomplices, and if they don't come in two or three days, why, Ishall clear out."
Fandor rose and went toward the base of the naiad.
"It's still dark. I might just as well get a breath of fresh air."
With a gymnastic leap, the journalist reached the body of the statue andswitched on his electric light. He made a horrible discovery. To reachthe King he had maneuvered the statue from the outside. He realized nowthat it was impossible to open it from the inside. In his daring follyhe had shut himself in and possibly condemned himself to the mostterrible torture.
Now he began a struggle to regain his liberty. He tore his fingers andbroke his nails in vain despairing efforts ... at length he gave up,beaten. He was irrevocably a prisoner. When he realized his situation hesank to the ground, a cry escaping his lips:
"Juve! Juve! If only Juve finds my letter. If only he comes to saveme!"