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"By what chance?" began de Loubersac. Bobinette interrupted: "It is rather I who might ask you that, Monsieur Henri!... As for me, I have been spending four days with my family at Rouen.... I asked for a holiday and Monsieur de Naarboveck very kindly granted it ... but you?" De Loubersac was nervously chewing the end of his blonde moustache.
She was not saved!... But in Bobinette who, terrified at being confronted with Fantômas self-confessed, had tasted the bitterness of death, a powerful reaction had set in: she was becoming mistress of herself once more. Fantômas had said to her: "Thou shalt die!" She now decided that she would live, would save herself!... She must escape! "If Fantômas were there I should hear him," she thought.
He hastened towards her as fast as his legs permitted; and as soon as he was near enough to speak to her without raising his voice, he questioned her: "Well?" It was the interrogation of a master to a subordinate. "Well?" he repeated. His tone was anxious. Bobinette calmed the old man's apprehensions with a nod. "It's done," said she.
To Bobinette, the abject creature grovelling in the mire of the roadway, the bells sounded vaguely serene, far, far away.... She seemed to be floating in some indefinable element, floating like thistledown on an irresistible breeze.... Suddenly she had the sensation that she was sinking, falling, that she was rolling down, down, into the depths of a bottomless abyss....
He looked through the large keyhole to see who was demanding admittance at this late hour.... A look, and Vagualame turned, caught Sophie by the arm, and whispered: "Detective Juve!... Inspector Michel!... Keep cool, Sophie! They cannot know all the ins and outs of your place." Two strides and Vagualame joined Bobinette.
The bandit spoke: "I am Fantômas!... I am he for whom the entire world is searching, whom none has ever seen, whom none can recognise!... I am Crime incarnated!... I am Night!... No human sees my face, because Crime and Night are featureless!... I am illimitable Power!... I am he who mocks at all the powers, at all the efforts, at all the forces!... I am master of all, of everything; of all times and seasons.... I am Death!... Bobinette, thou hast said it I am Fantômas."
Maître Durul-Burton rose and, bending towards the half-fainting Bobinette, 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....
I am still with her." "To take refuge in an hotel was an idiotic thing to do, Bobinette.... The police could easily have nabbed you there if they had had a mind to. That is why I sent you to one of my old friends to a person to whom I could recommend you!... Well, Bobinette, you will have to leave that house!"
"Make off with you!" cried Bobinette. "There they are coming back!" Juve did not wish de Loubersac to catch a glimpse of him: he would be surprised, suspicious, and would question him about the missed rendezvous. Juve had not gained sufficient information, however. "I must see you again, Bobinette." His tone was pressing, insistent. "When?" "This evening." "Impossible." "To-morrow, then."
"We know all about that, Monsieur Juve ... besides the person whom the Minister wished to learn something about was not Monsieur de Naarboveck's daughter, but her companion a young woman named Berthe."... "And nicknamed Bobinette!" finished Juve. "What do you think of her?" asked the Under-Secretary. Juve's reply was an indirect one.
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