XXXV
AT THE COUNCIL OF WAR
"The Council, gentlemen!... Stand up!"
"Shoulder--arms!"
"Rest--arms!"
The seven military judges of the Council of War advanced solemnly, insingle file. They were in full dress uniform--sabres, epaulettes,regulation plumes on helmets and caps. With all due ceremony they tooktheir respective places at a long green-covered table.
This opened at one o'clock, on the afternoon of the twenty-eighth ofDecember. The president was a colonel of dragoons, a smart,distinguished-looking man, whose fair hair was slightly tinged withgrey at the temples.
On the right of the tribunal, before a bureau piled with voluminouscase papers, was seated Commandant Dumoulin, redder in the face thanever. The place next him was filled by Lieutenant Servin, who showedhimself the very pink of correctness and meticulous elegance. Seatednear the lieutenant was a white-haired officer acting as clerk ofcourt.
The government commissioners had their backs to the court windowswhich looked on to a very large garden; facing them was the dock,guarded by two soldiers with fixed bayonets; behind the dock was thetable which stood for the bar where the counsel for the defence wouldplead.
The centre of the room was occupied by an enormous cast-iron stove,shedding cinders on every side, whose ancient pipes were scaly withage.
Behind the line of soldiers cutting the room in two were narrow seatsand still narrower desks, where the representatives of the legalpress were seated as best they could.
Behind the journalists pressed a tightly packed crowd, restless,overflowing with curiosity, leaning on the press-men's shoulders,peering between their heads, for whom the authorities had shown butscant consideration, and for whom the poorest accommodation wasprovided.
All Paris had done their possible to be present, begging cards ofadmittance, a favour which could be granted to a very limited number.
As soon as the interest aroused by the appearance of the members ofthe Council of War had died down the crowd's attention wasconcentrated on the hero of this sensational adventure: his doings hadbeen the one prevailing topic of conversation during the past fewdays.
Jerome Fandor, modest, reserved, appeared indifferent to the mutequestioning of the hundreds of eyes focussed on him. Our journalistwore Corporal Vinson's uniform. He had begged the authorities to lethim appear in civilian clothes: demands and entreaties had been somuch breath wasted.
The counsel assigned him was a shining light of the junior bar, MaitreDurul-Berton.
The audience on the whole was favourably disposed towards thiswell-known contributor to _La Capitale_. They knew that on manyoccasions this well-informed journalist had rendered immense servicesto honest folk and to society in general by placing his intelligenceand energy at the service of every good cause.
Then there was one strong indisputable point in his favour. Though hehad escaped from prison with the help of an unknown person, he hadreturned, had given himself up, declaring he would not leave theCouncil of War except by the big door with head held high, hisinnocence established.
The president announced:
"We shall now call the names of the witnesses."
There was silence in the court-room while a sergeant who filled theoffice of crier to the court, read out the names from a list in hishands. The call-over lasted ten minutes. Most of the witnesses wereofficers and men belonging to the garrisons of Verdun and Chalons.
Among these witnesses as they defiled before the tribunal Fandorrecognised some whose faces were graven on his memory during his briefsojourn in the Saint Benoit barracks.
The first call resounded through the court-room:
"Inspector Juve!"
Juve approached the tribunal, proved he was present, then, inconformity with the law, left the court-room, as did the otherwitnesses called.
The presence of Juve reassured and comforted Fandor. Had not Juve saidto him:
"You must face your judges, little son; but I am greatly deceived if acertain incident which will occur in the course of the hearing willnot alter the speech for the government from the first to the last!"
More than this Juve could not be got to say: he had put on his mostenigmatic manner and closed his lips.
The president of the Council addressed Fandor:
"Accused! Stand up!"
The president stared hard at the prisoner with his pale clear eyeslike porcelain expressing neither thoughts nor feelings.
Fandor stood erect, waiting.
An hour had gone by.
Juve, the first witness called, was finishing his evidence. Of all thewitnesses, he alone could give precise details which would confirm ornullify Fandor's statements.
Juve had given a rapid sketch of Fandor's adventurous career, but hadcarefully omitted to mention that Fandor's real name was CharlesRambert.[11]
[Footnote 11: See Fantomas Series: vols. i, ii, iii.]
His defence of his friend was a eulogy.
Nevertheless, the revelations of Juve did not simplify the problem asregards the grave charges of murder and spying brought against theprisoner.
When Juve had finished his panegyric, the president spoke to thepoint:
"All this is very well, gentlemen, very well--but the affair growsmore and more complicated, and who will come forward to elucidate it?"
From the back of the court came a sound, sharp-cut, clear:
"I!"
The sensation was immense. Members of the Council looked at oneanother. There was a disturbance at the back of the room: the crowdswayed, and peered, and whispered.
The colonel-president frowned. He scrutinised the close-packed swayingmass. He shot a question at it.
"Who spoke?"
Sharp, distinct, a monosyllable was shot back.
"I!"
Someone, pushing a way through the audience, was approaching themilitary tribunal.
A murmur rose from the crowd.
"Silence!" shouted the colonel. He swept the crowd with an angry eye:he threatened.
"I warn you! At the least manifestation, favourable or otherwise, Ishall have the room cleared: we are not here to amuse ourselves. I donot authorise anyone, either by gesture or by speech, to comment onwhat is taking place within these walls."
Having obtained comparative quiet, the colonel looked squarely at theperson who had approached the witness-stand and was facing themilitary tribunal.
This would-be witness was a young woman, elegantly clad. She woreblack furs, and a dark veil partially concealing her features, butrevealing the strange pallor of her face. The audience, who had a viewof the newcomer's back, noted her masses of tawny red hair, set off bya fur toque.
The colonel put her to the question at once.
"You are the person who said 'I'?"
The young woman was greatly moved, but she answered firmly:
"Yes, Monsieur. That is so."
"Who are you, Madame?"
The witness collected her forces, pressed her hand to her heart asthough to still its frantic beating: paused. In a clear strong voiceshe made her declaration:
"I am Mademoiselle Berthe: I am better known as Bobinette."
Exclamations from the crowd, craning necks, peering eyes, murmurs.
When the excitement was suppressed, the colonel interrogatedBobinette.
"Why have you taken upon yourself to interrupt the proceedings of thecourt?"
"You asked, Monsieur, who could clear up this unfortunate affair. I amready to tell you everything. Not only is it a duty imposed on me bymy conscience, it is also my most ardent wish."
The judges were in earnest consultation. Commandant Dumoulin wasshaking his head. He was angrily opposed to this witness being heard,a witness who had appeared so inopportunely to trouble the majesty ofthe sitting.
The counsel for the defence intervened.
"Monsieur the president, I have the honour to request an immediatehearing for this witness.... It is your absolute right, Monsieur thepresiden
t: you have full discretionary powers."
"And if I oppose it?" growled the commandant behind his desk, with avicious glance at the defender of his adversary.
Maitre Durul-Burton replied with calm dignity:
"If you oppose it, Monsieur the commissaire, I shall have the honourof immediately deposing on the bureau of this tribunal conclusiveevidence which will bring this sitting to a close forthwith."
An animated discussion ensued between the members of the council. Itresulted in the colonel's announcement:
"We will hear this witness."
He addressed Bobinette:
"You are allowed to speak, mademoiselle. Swear then to speak thetruth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Raise your righthand and say: 'I swear it!'"
With a certain dignity Bobinette obeyed.
"I swear it!"
Then, in a low trembling voice, trembling from excess of emotion butnot from timidity, Bobinette began her story.
A child of the people, honestly brought up, she had not alwaysfollowed the straight path of virtue: there had been lapses.Intelligent, longing to learn, she had been well educated, and hadintended to take a medical degree.... Again, at the hospital, she hadsuccumbed to temptations, had led a life of idleness, and hadrenounced all idea of working for her doctor's diploma. Instead, shehad become a hospital nurse.[12]
[Footnote 12: See _Fantomas_: vol. i, Fantomas Series.]
Here the colonel interrupted:
"What can these details matter to us, Mademoiselle? What we want to know isnot your own history, but that of the guilty person--information pertinentto the case in hand."
In a strangely solemn voice, Bobinette replied:
"You would know the history of the guilty person?... Listen!"
The tribunal was impressed: the members, silent, attentive, let thewitness have her way.
Bobinette touched on the various stages of her life up to the day whenshe came in contact with the Baron de Naarboveck. The care she hadlavished on the youthful Wilhelmine gained the gratitude of the richdiplomat and his daughter. From that time they treated her as one ofthemselves: she became Mademoiselle de Naarboveck's companion.
"Ah, cursed be that day!" cried Bobinette.... "Misfortunes, tragedies,date from then. The worst is--I must confess it--I was the cause ofthem!"
"What do you mean by that?" interrupted Commandant Dumoulin.
"I mean to say that if Captain Brocq died by an assassin's hand, theblame is mine!... I mean to say that if a confidential documentdisappeared from his rooms, it is because I took it!... I was hismistress!... I am responsible for his death!"
There was a gasping silence: the sensation was intense. Juve, halfhidden behind the cast-iron stove, alone remained unmoved.
Bobinette continued:
"My evil genius, gentlemen, was a bandit of the worst kind: you knowhim under the name of Vagualame. Vagualame, agent of the SecondBureau, and officially a counter-spy. Quite so. But, gentlemen,Vagualame was equally spying on France, a traitor in the pay of aforeign power: worse still, he it was who assassinated Captain Brocq:you know he was the murderer of the singer, Nichoune!...
"This Vagualame made of me his thing, his slave! Alas! I cannotpretend that it was under the perpetual menace from this monster Ibecame a traitor! I have so many betrayals that must count against me:betrayal of my country, betrayal of Captain Brocq's love for me! Irobbed him in every kind of way: I stole the document referring to themobilisation scheme: I stole his money--bank-notes--with the excusethat it was to put the police on the wrong scent and make them believeit was an ordinary burglary.
"These notes, gentlemen, were found in the possession of theunfortunate Jerome Fandor. It seems they constitute an overwhelmingcharge against him. Know then, that after having been stolen by myhands they were given to Jerome Fandor by one of our agents, for thepurpose of compromising the false Corporal Vinson.... But if I haveacted thus, it was not so much through a desire for the money theygave me for my treachery, not so much for the fallacious promises ofeventual riches which Vagualame was always trying to dazzle mewith--it was through rancour, spite, hate, it was through love!"
Maitre Durul-Burton rose and, bending towards the half-faintingBobinette, cried:
"Speak, speak, Mademoiselle!"
Bobinette went on slowly:
"Through love--yes. And it is an avowal which touches me nearly,wounds me in the depths of my soul, in my most intimate thoughts....
"Yes, I have given away to the vile suggestions of Vagualame, if Ihave let myself be drawn by him into horrible by-paths of spying andtreason, it is owing to the spite and rage of an unrequited love, ofan intense passion, intense beyond expression, which I have felt for aman--a man whose heart was given to another--for the betrothed ofMademoiselle de Naarboveck--for Lieutenant Henri de Lou----"
The colonel-president, with a brusque gesture, interrupted thisconfession.
"Enough, Mademoiselle ... enough!... You are not to mention nameshere!... Be good enough to continue your deposition only as it relatesto facts connected with spying."
Bobinette then recounted how she had consented to hide the famous gunpiece brought to her one day by Vagualame; how she had helped thebandit to concoct the daring plan by which this piece was to be handedto a foreign power; how she had disguised herself as a priest in orderto take Corporal Vinson to Dieppe. She did not know, at first, thatshe was dealing with Jerome Fandor. Enlightenment came throughVagualame's telegram. She only then realised that the traitor Vinsonand the soldier in her company were two distinct persons.
"And," cried she, "who killed the real Corporal Vinson but a few daysago in the rue du Cherche-Midi? I know. It was the murderer of CaptainBrocq, the murderer of the singer, Nichoune--it was Vagualame ...Vagualame!" Bobinette was working herself up to a paroxysm ofexasperation, shouting out her revelations like an apostle who meansto convince, shouting his convictions as a martyr might at the worstmoment of her anguish.
"Vagualame? You ask who he is, and you search among the thieves, thereceivers of stolen goods and light-fingered gentry, you search amongthe secret agents, among that low unclean crowd which gravitates toyour Staff Offices and circulates about them, forever on the watch, onthe prowl to surprise some secret, to buy over some conscience, tosell and bargain over some purloined document!... Look higher thanthat, gentlemen--much higher! Look higher than the Staff Offices, thanthe leaders in the political world, than members of the Government,even--fix your attention on the accredited representatives of foreignpowers."...
Bobinette was unable to continue.... Commandant Dumoulin had been tooexcited to remain in his seat. He rushed towards the witness, who wasmaking what he considered to be wild and outrageous statements: he puthis big hand over her mouth, effectually silencing her....
The commandant turned to the colonel, shouting:
"Colonel! Monsieur the president!... I demand that this case be nowheard in camera! Such accusations must not be heard in public!... Ibeg you to order that the rest of this case be heard behind closeddoors!"
The counsel for the defence rose in his turn, and in a calm tone,which contrasted with the violence of Commandant Dumoulin, declared:
"I am in agreement with this demand, Monsieur the President.... Willyou order that the further hearing of this case be in camera?"
Here Commandant Dumoulin, to whom Lieutenant Servin had made asuggestion, intervened anew:
"Monsieur the President, gentlemen, having regard to the gravedeclarations made by this witness, I require her immediate arrest!"
Hardly had this demand been voiced when a loud cry rang out,electrifying the whole court. Bobinette had swallowed the contents ofa small phial hidden in her muff!
Juve, guessing Bobinette's intention, had rushed to her, but, in spiteof his rapid action, he reached her only in time to receive thefainting girl in his arms.
"She has poisoned herself!" shouted Juve.
The public broke bounds, knocked over chairs and benches, rolled in asurge of
excited curiosity to the very feet of the Council of War,crowding round this fresh centre of interest--Bobinette!
Fandor was too stunned by the avalanche of incidents to move.
"The hearing is suspended!" shouted the colonel in an angry voice.There was nothing else to be done: the court was in an uproar!
It was nine in the evening, and a crowd as large and densely packed asbefore awaited the verdict.
Since Bobinette attempted suicide--she had been removed to theinfirmary with the faint hope that life was not extinct and she mightyet be saved--the hearing had been conducted in camera. But therevelations of the guilty girl had not only upset Dumoulin's course ofprocedure, but had also convinced the judges of Fandor's innocence. Hehad once more explained why he had concealed his identity beneath theuniform of Corporal Vinson.
The Council of War had come to the conclusion that they could notconsider Fandor accountable to their tribunal.
At nine o'clock then, after a short deliberation, the Council of Wardelivered judgment through the mouth of its president, deliveredjudgment according to the solemn formula, commencing thus:
"_In the name of the French People!_"
Jerome Fandor was acquitted.
The news of his acquittal was received with hearty cheers.
* * * * *
Fandor was free.
Congratulations, hand-shakings, questions followed.
Mechanically he responded, though he had a smile for Lieutenant Servinwhen he murmured, with a touch of irony:
"The judgment made no mention, Monsieur Fandor, of the clothes--theborrowed clothes--you are wearing: but it seems to be established thatthey do not belong to you. Be kind enough, then, to return them to theauthorities as soon as possible! Otherwise we shall be obliged tosummon you afresh for appropriation of military garments!"
The lieutenant had had his little joke, and departed laughing.
The crowd melted away. Only a few of Fandor's colleagues remained. Tothem he talked more freely of his troubles and trials. Then Juvearrived on the scene again. He was no longer the impassive listenerof the trial: he was friend Juve, beaming and joyous.
He embraced his dear Fandor effusively, murmuring:
"Now, old Fandor, this is not the moment to linger! We must be offinstanter. I shall see you to your flat, where you can change intoclothes of your own; for this evening we have our work cut out forus!"
"This evening?" Fandor's curiosity was aroused.
Juve, as they went off together, became mysterious.
"Ah! you will understand presently!"
XXXVI
AMBASSADOR!... ?...
"Hurry up, Fandor! We must be off!... We shall be late!"
Jerome Fandor slipped on his overcoat and took the stairs at a rush inthe wake of Juve.
"Well, I like that, old Juve! Here have I been waiting for you a goodquarter of an hour!... You will have to give the coachman an address,anyhow, and that will tell me where you are taking me, why you havemade me get into evening clothes, and why you are in that unusualget-up yourself--it's unheard of!"
"It is true, lad! I amuse myself making mysteries!... It is stupid....Well, Fandor, we are going to a ball."...
"A ball!"
"Yes--and I think we shall lead someone there a fine dance, or I ammuch mistaken."
"Who, then?"
"The master of the house!"
"You speak in riddles, Juve!"
"Not at all! Do you know where we are going, Fandor, lad?"
"I ask you that, Juve."
"Well, then--we are going to the house of--Fantomas--to arrest him!"
"Ye gods and little fishes!" cried Fandor.
Juve crossed the pavement and jumped into a carriage, making room forhis dear lad beside him.
"But, Juve," remonstrated Fandor: "You declared to me the other daythat it was impossible to arrest de Naarboveck--that he wasinviolable--but you did not tell me why.... Isn't that true?"
"It is true."
"And it is so no longer."
"It still is so."
After all he had been through, Fandor was in a state of high tension.He caught Juve's hand and beat it with angry impatience.
"Don't quibble, Juve!... It is too deadly serious!... What do youreally mean?... We know that de Naarboveck is Fantomas, but you sworeto me that it is impossible to arrest Naarboveck. You still assertthis: nevertheless, you now declare that we are going to arrestFantomas! What the deuce do you mean?... I've had more than enough ofyour ironical mockery, old man!"
Juve took out his watch and, with finger on the dial, said:
"Look! It is half past ten. We shall reach de Naarboveck's about aquarter past eleven. It would be impossible for me to arrest him justthen; but at a quarter to twelve, midnight at latest, it will be quiteeasy for me to put my hand on the collar of de Naarboveck--Fantomas! Ishall not bungle it!"
"Juve! You and your mysteries are maddening!"
"My dear Fandor, do pardon me for not being more explicit. I told youNaarboveck was out of reach as far as arresting him goes. I also toldyou that we were going to arrest Fantomas. It is exact; because allthat is subordinate to a will--a will I happen to have at my commandfor the moment, but also a will which may raise some preventingobstacle at the last moment, and so stop me from capturing the banditstraight away, enabling the monster to brazen it out in perfectsafety."
"Whose will, Juve?"
"My lad, do not question me further! I cannot say more."
Fandor desisted: Juve's sincerity was obvious.
"All serene, Juve! I leave it to you. Whatever happens. I shall trynot to lose sight of you. I shall stick to you like a leech--if youhave need of me."
Juve held out his hands.
"Thanks, dear lad!"
With fast-beating hearts, thrilling with excitement, expectation,anxiety, the friends embraced.
"You know, dear lad," said Juve in quiet tones: "We are going to riskour skins?... I am sure of the final victory unless a stupid ball froma revolver."...
Fandor was his old teasing self once more.
"Oh, that's all right! You are not going to frighten me with that oldblack bogey of yours!"...
At this moment the carriage turned the corner at the end of theAlexander bridge....
* * * * *
The Baron de Naarboveck's mansion was brilliantly illuminated. Themuch-talked-of fete was at its height.
Below, the spacious hall had been turned into a magnificentsupper-room--a veritable transformation scene--while dancers throngedthe rooms above.... The end room only was deserted: it was thelibrary. It had been made the receptacle of an overflow of furniturewhen the reception suite was cleared for dancing.
An orchestra, concealed by foliage plants, discoursed seductivewaltzes in the principal ballroom, whilst crowds of lovely women anddistinguished men listened, chatted, and looked on.
Madame Paradel, wife of the Minister for Foreign Affairs, was talkingto her host. Observing Wilhelmine, all grace and smiles, she murmured:
"What a charming girl she is!"
Turning again to de Naarboveck, she remarked:
"But you must be in the depths of desolation, dear Baron! Have I notheard that the young couple are leaving for the centre of Africa?"
"Oh, that is an exaggeration," laughed the Baron. "As a matter offact, my future son-in-law, de Loubersac, is leaving the Staff Office,and with the rank of captain. His chiefs are sending him, not, as youthink, to the wilds of Central Africa, but only to Algiers! Anexcellent garrison!"
"Well, Baron, I like to think you will soon be paying a visit to yournewly married pair."
The Baron bowed, and, as Madame Paradel moved away, he went towardsthe entrance of the gallery commanding a view of the hall and stairs.
The figures of two advancing guests had caught his eye.
In a tone at once enigmatic and perfectly correct, de Naarboveckaccosted them:
"You are among my gu
ests, gentlemen."
"That is obvious, is it not?" replied one of the new-comers.... "Youmay be assured, Baron, that neither my friend Fandor nor I would haveallowed ourselves the liberty otherwise."...
"I know! I know, Monsieur Juve!... Besides--I was expecting you!" Anironic smile curved the lips of de Naarboveck.
"We should have reproached ourselves, Baron, had we not come thisevening to offer you the felicitations to which you have a right."
"Really?... No doubt you refer to the marriage of Wilhelmine?"
"No, Baron. I reserve such congratulations for Monsieur de Loubersacand Mademoiselle Therese--pardon, for Mademoiselle Wilhelmine."
When making this deliberate mistake in the name, Juve looked squarelyat the diplomat--but de Naarboveck made no sign.
"What, then, do you refer to, Monsieur Juve?" he asked.
"I mean, my dear Baron, that I have recently heard of your new office,heard that your credentials have just been presented, heard that theywill be ratified to-morrow.... From this evening, Baron, are you notthen the representative of the kingdom of Hesse-Weimar?... I fancy,Monsieur the Ambassador, that you are satisfied with this nomination?"
De Naarboveck, smiling that ironical smile, bowed.
"It carries with it some advantages, certainly."
"Among them, Baron, the privilege of inviolability--ah, that famousinviolability!"
Juve laid stress on the word _inviolability_.
De Naarboveck did not seem to understand the insinuation conveyed.
"It is quite true, Monsieur," he said in a matter-of-fact manner: "Ido enjoy the right of inviolability; it is one of the privilegesattached to my office." On a bantering note he added:
"An appreciable advantage, is it not?"
"Appreciable indeed!" was Juve's reply.
A wave of fresh arrivals surged up the grand staircase and separatedthe speakers. The master of the house stepped forward to greet them,whilst Fandor drew Juve by the sleeve into the corner of a windowrecess. Speaking low, he asked:
"Juve! what is the meaning of this comedy?"
"Alas, Fandor! it is no comedy!"
"De Naarboveck is an ambassador?"
"For the kingdom of Hesse-Weimar, yes. He has been that for over aweek--since that evening we failed to arrest him in the rue Lepic."
"And he is inviolable?"
"Naturally. In conformity with international conventions, everyrepresentative accredited to a foreign power as ambassador is anuntouchable, inviolable person--wherever he may be.... Therefore,Fandor, when in this mansion, situated in the heart of Paris, we areno longer legally in France, but in Hesse-Weimar. You can understandthe kind of consequences which must follow from such a state ofthings.... But all is not over.... Ah! excuse me ... there issomething I must see to immediately!"...
Leaving Fandor, Juve made his way through innumerable dress-coats andmagnificent toilettes, moving with difficulty in the press.
He approached a guest stationed apart, watching all that was going onabout him. This guest, who stood unobtrusively aloof, was adistinguished-looking man of about thirty-five; he wore a blondemoustache turned up German fashion.
Juve bowed low before this personage, and murmured with profounddeference:
"Ah, thank you, thank you for coming, Majesty!"
"Here, Monsieur, I am incognito--the Prince Louis de Kalbach: respectmy incognito and do whatever you have to do quickly. My presence inParis is not suspected. As you are aware, I am fortunately not knownpersonally to my--to this individual."
Juve was about to assure the king that his wishes would be respected,but someone touched him on the arm. Juve, with a respectfulinclination, turned away.
"Ah, Monsieur Juve, how delighted I am to see you!... But I wasforgetting.... Monsieur Lepine was looking for you just now!"...
Juve was facing beaming Lieutenant de Loubersac.
"I will go to him at once ... but let me take this opportunity ofcongratulating you, my dear Lieutenant."...
Juve slipped away to join the popular chief commissioner of police,who was standing apart in the gallery overlooking the hall. Despitethe amiable smile he cultivated, Monsieur Lepine looked anxious.
"Juve, are you on duty here?" he asked.
"Yes and no, Monsieur."
Monsieur Lepine looked his surprise.
"I will explain this to you later, Monsieur," said Juve.... "Thingsare still very complicated."
Wilhelmine de Naarboveck came into view. She was one beam of happinessand radiant beauty.
"Ah, Monsieur, I perceive you are not dancing," she said, playing thegood hostess to Juve. "Will you not allow me to introduce you to somecharming girls?"
"This is not the time," thought Juve: "and there is my age to beconsidered."
Making an evasive reply, Juve beat a retreat in good order, andfollowed Colonel Hofferman, who was talking to de Naarboveck.
"The work of the Second Bureau," declared that officer.
Juve heard no more--Monsieur Lepine confronted him. The chiefcommissioner of police was plucking at his pointed beard with nervousfingers.
Drawing Juve aside, he asked:
"Juve, what is Headquarters thinking about?"
"I do not know, Monsieur."
"What! There is a visitor here, unnoticed.... Are you also ignorantof the fact that the Baron de Naarboveck receives a king hereto-night?"
"Oh, as to that, I know it--Frederick Christian II."
Monsieur Lepine was incensed at the detective's calm.
"You know it! You know it!" he grumbled, "and the administration knowsnothing about!... Well, since you know so much, what is he doing hereyour king?"
"He comes to see me."
"Juve, you are mad!"
"No, Monsieur, But."...
Juve cut short the conversation, approached the king, and said a fewwords to him in a low voice.
The chief commissioner of police was surprised beyond words when hesaw the king listening attentively to what Juve had to say, then nodacquiescence, leave the ballroom and enter the gallery on to whichseveral rooms opened, including the library at the far end.
Juve glanced discreetly at his watch. He was startled. His expressionaltered. It grew severe, determined. He glanced about him, discoveredde Naarboveck not far off, and went up to him.
"Monsieur de Naarboveck," he said: "shall we have a few minutes' talk?Not here--somewhere else.... Should we say?"...
"In my library?" proposed de Naarboveck, who looked the detective upand down--a measuring glance, cold, contemptuous. Their glancescrossed, hard, menacing.
"You are set on it, Monsieur?" De Naarboveck's tone was ironyincarnate.... "And what may I ask is your aim in forcing thisconversation, Monsieur?"
Juve's reply came, distinct, determined:
"Unmask Fantomas!"
"That shall be as you like," was the diplomat's reply.
In the library, unusually full of furniture, Juve and de Naarboveckmet for their duel of words and wits.
They were by themselves. Juve had made the Baron pass into the roombefore him. He knew there was but one exit--the door. If in order toget clear away, de Naarboveck meant to employ force or trickery, hewould first have to remove Juve from the door, before which he hadstationed himself.
Juve did not budge.
Certainly there was the window at the other end of the room looking onto the Esplanade des Invalides. Curtains were drawn across the window,but Juve did not fear to see his adversary escape in that direction:he knew--and he alone knew it--that between this window and thecurtains there was an obstacle--someone."...
"Do you remember, Monsieur de Naarboveck, that evening when the policecame here to arrest Vagualame?"
"Yes," replied de Naarboveck with his ironic smile: "and it was you,Monsieur Juve, who got yourself arrested in that disguise!"
"That is a fact." Juve's admission was matter-of-fact. "Do you recalla certain conversation, Monsieur de Naarboveck, between detective Juveand the real Vagualame at Jer
ome Fandor's flat?"
"No," declared the Baron: "and for the very good reason that theconversation--you have just said so--was a dialogue between twopersons: Juve and Vagualame."
"Nevertheless, this Vagualame was none other than Fantomas!"
"What then?" De Naarboveck was smiling.
Juve, after a short silence, burnt his ships.
"Naarboveck!" he cried: "It is useless to double like that! Vagualameis Fantomas: Vagualame is you, yourself: Fantomas is you, yourself....We know it. We have identified you; and to-morrow the anthropometrictest will prove in the eyes of the world what to-day is the convictionof a certain few only.
"This long time past you have known yourself pursued, tracked: youhave noted that the ring has been drawn closer, tighter each day: so,playing your last trump card, attempting even the impossible, you haveplanned this abominable comedy, which consists in duping a noble kingand getting yourself nominated as his ambassador, that you might takeadvantage of diplomatic inviolability--an advantage, let me tell you,you are in desperate need of!... Quite a good idea! Was it not?"
During Juve's virulent apostrophe de Naarboveck had maintained anironic self-possession.
"You confess, then?"
"And suppose it were so?... No doubt, Monsieur Juve, you intended todenounce me, to prove that the Baron de Naarboveck is none other thanFantomas.... Well, it pleases me to admit your cleverness. I will evengo as far as allow that you may quite well obtain authorisation toarrest me--in a few days' time."
"Not in a few days' time," interrupted Juve: "but now at once!"
"Pardon," objected de Naarboveck, cool, collected, while Juve haddifficulty in containing himself: "Pardon, but the credentials Ipossess are authentic, and no one in this world can deprive me of myfunction, of my official position, and what pertains to it."
"Yes!" Juve flung the word at de Naarboveck as though it were a stonefrom a sling.
De Naarboveck's gesture might mean anything:
"Who?"...
Juve hurled another two stones in the shape of words.
"The king!"
De Naarboveck's nod was malicious.
"Frederick Christian alone can take from me my style and title ofambassador.... Let him come and do it!"
Juve lifted a finger slowly towards the far end of the library, in thedirection of the window.
De Naarboveck, who had followed this movement mechanically, could notrestrain a cry of stupefaction, a cry of anguish.
The window curtain had just been gradually drawn apart: slowly beforethe miscreant's eyes appeared the majestic form of King FrederickChristian II, King of Hesse-Weimar.
The king was livid with suppressed rage.
Juve approached him, his eyes on de Naarboveck. The king took a largeenvelope from an inner pocket and handed it to Juve.
"I am the victim of this monster's imposture, but I know how torecognise my mistakes and rectify them.... Monsieur Juve, here is thedecree you asked me for, annulling the nomination of--Baron deNaarboveck."
During this brief scene, Naarboveck-Fantomas had gradually backedtowards a corner of the room, his face was pallid and drawn: he hadthe look of a trapped beast of prey. But at the king's last wordsNaarboveck-Fantomas drew himself up to a semblance of stateliness. Healso took from an inner pocket a document. He held it out to the king:his lips were curved in a smile of bitter irony.
"Sire," he said: "I, in my turn, hand you this! It is the plan stolenfrom Captain Brocq--the mobilisation plan for the whole French army--aplan your emperor."...
"Enough, Monsieur!" shouted the king.
The paper fell to the ground.
Juve bent quickly and picked up the document.
The king, as though to anticipate the suspicion which might be putinto words, said:
"Juve, this plan belongs to your country. Never have we wished."...
The eyes of Juve met those of the king in a deep, questioning glance.A question was asked and answered then. But five seconds in time hadpassed. Juve's glance went back to Naarboveck-Fantomas.... The bandithad disappeared!
Juve kept his head.
"Michel!" he called: "Michel!"
Michel entered the library on the instant. He had been posted in thegallery close by. Behind him appeared several gentlemen in eveningdress: they were detectives despatched on special duty fromHeadquarters.
"Fantomas is there, Michel," Juve cried: "concealed, but notescaped.... There may be some hiding-place in these walls--we mustsound them--but no passage, no exit: I am sure of that. Let us carryout these pieces of furniture, which form a veritable barricade."
Some moments passed, tense with expectancy. At Juve's earnest requestthe king had left the room. He had fulfilled his promise and had bestbegone. Juve and Michel were guarding the door. The situation wasdangerous, and well the policemen knew it! They had come to gripswith a formidable criminal, to whom nothing was sacred, who wouldstick at nothing! Protected by some piece of furniture, he could takeaim at his leisure, shoot his opponents through the heart, and couldgo on shooting till he had emptied his revolver.
"Start in!" cried Juve.
With six men to aid him, Juve began a systematic turn-out of thelibrary, moving the furniture piece by piece, leaving no hole, nocorner unsearched.
No Fantomas!
Yet Juve felt confident, felt sure he held the miscreant in the hollowof his policeman's hand: the library contained no trap-door, no secretdoor, no sliding panel covering his retreat: the floor had no openingin it: the ceiling was not movable.
"Take these pieces of furniture into the gallery," commanded Juve:"every one of them! Fantomas is not a being without weight andsubstance, though, for the moment, he is invisible. He cannot haveleft the room; therefore he must be in it!"
It was no easy task to move quickly, noiselessly, these heavy piecesof furniture into the gallery by way of the narrow library door. Soonthey had carried out a comfortable leather arm-chair of unusualproportions, four other chairs, a stand, and various smaller pieces ofsubstantial make.
And all the while, dancers whirled on in the ball-rooms, seductivestrains of music were wafted on the air, mingled with the hum ofjoyous talk and gay laughter; yet in the background were these darkhappenings with tragedy ahead!
Wilhelmine de Naarboveck appeared in the doorway, staring at thedisorder organised by Juve.... Juve paused: speech failed him at sightof her.
"Monsieur Juve," said she, in quite ordinary tones: "I am so glad Ihave found you! The Baron de Naarboveck has sent me to you."...
"Who sent you, did you say, Mademoiselle?"
Juve started forward.
"The Baron de Naarboveck asks for me?... Where? Since when?"
"Why Monsieur Juve, I have just this moment left him at the entranceto the ball-rooms. He had just come out of here!... But why are youputting all this furniture in the gallery?"
"What of the Baron, Mademoiselle?" cried Juve, on tenterhooks.
"Ah, yes! The Baron said to me: 'Wilhelmine, I feel a little tired,and am going up to my room for a few minutes; but go to Monsieur Juve,and tell him.'"...
Not waiting to hear more, Juve rushed out to the gallery, but only tostop dead.... He had run up against a large, an unusually large,arm-chair standing apart. Thus isolated, it was remarkable. Juvepaused to examine it. This arm-chair was astonishing, extraordinary!Yes--it opened in the middle--a kind of a double chair! Why--theinterior could hold a man who knew how to pack himself in! It had afalse bottom with a spring! One in hiding could escape that way!...Once closed on the person concealed within, the chair looked empty. Amost ingenious hide-hole! Juve now knew the answer to the riddle ofthe bandit's disappearance. Within an ace of arrest, he had seized thechance offered by Juve's interchange of glances with the king, andwith an acrobat's agility had slipped inside this chair! No sooner wasthe chair abandoned in the gallery than de Naarboveck-Fantomas hadslipped out and away. When leaving his magnificent house forever, andall the securities and privileges of his position, he had sent
Wilhelmine to announce his escape to Juve! Could cynicism--couldmordant irony go further?
Juve felt crushed. It was too, too much.
"What ails you, Juve?" asked a gentle voice beside him. It was Fandor,who, knowing nothing of what had passed, but suspecting there wasmischief afoot, had come in search of Juve. Had he not seen thediplomat whom he knew to be Fantomas, and Fantomas on the point ofbeing arrested, cross the ballroom rapidly and disappear in the crowdof dancers?
Juve could not find words for speech.
Great tears rolled down his cheeks, hollowed and lined with an immensefatigue.
At last he gave low utterance to his feelings.
"Fantomas! I had got him!... And it was I who had that cursed chairtaken out of the library--I did it ... I!... It is thanks to me!"
Juve could not continue. He burst into tears in the arms of hisdevoted friend....
Once again Juve had suffered shipwreck when coming into harbour! Onceagain the bandit had escaped! Ah, decidedly Vagualame, Naarboveck,Fantomas, were one!
Fantomas the evasive, the elusive, the shadowy Fantomas, genius ofevil, had flitted by them, had disappeared! Whither?...
Would Juve ever have his revenge?
The future alone would decide....
THE END
* * * * *
A NEST OF SPIES
FANTOMAS DETECTIVE TALES
By Pierre Souvestre and Marcel Allain
* * * * *
I
FANTOMAS
The Adventures of Detective Juve in pursuit of a master in crime.
II
THE EXPLOITS OF JUVE
In this continuation Fantomas appears as the leader of a gang of Apaches,and as a physician of standing. Juve tracks the criminal to his secrethiding-place, but Fantomas escapes.
III
MESSENGERS OF EVIL
Filled with hair-raising incidents this tale is a fascinating recital ofremarkable happenings in the life of the master-criminal of Paris.
IV
A NEST OF SPIES
In this volume Fantomas is an ambassador for a foreign power engaged inParis in obtaining important military secrets for Germany. Detective Juveunmasks him, but the criminal again escapes.
* * * * *
12mo. Cloth. $1.35 net per volume
* * * * *
BRENTANO'S NEW YORK
* * * * *
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