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Updated: June 23, 2025
Vinson dared not risk a movement: he stood rigid, motionless. Whoever was at the door must be led to think that there was not a living soul in Fandor's flat. Again the bell rang, a violent ring: it was the ring of someone who does not mean to go away, who knows that the delay in opening the door is deliberate. "Plague take that porter!" murmured the corporal. "I'll wager."...
Fandor's recollection of these statements did not tend to make him cheerful. He summed up the situation, and came to a decision. "I have been given leave I did not ask for: somebody must have asked it for me.
With bent shoulders and straining muscles, Fandor made desperate attempts to free himself, the while his eyes were fixed on the terrifying apparition confronting him! It was a mocking Fantômas he saw; for the abominable bandit was mocking him was imitating his every gesture to the life!... Fandor's gaze was fixed in an observing stare....
Fandor made as if to rise to emphasise his statement; but Corporal Vinson, far from imitating the movement, sank deeper and deeper in the large arm-chair, into which he had literally fallen a few minutes before, and with an accent of profound anguish, for he understood Fandor's desire to shorten the conversation, he cried with a groan: "Ah, Monsieur, do not send me away!
The intruder bowed slightly to the agent, then taking a few steps into the room, went to the window, looked about outside. He seemed to be someone on intimate terms with the master of the flat, and might be going to await his return. "He must be a friend of Jérôme Fandor's," thought the agent.
"Look here, my man," said he, slipping a silver coin into the jailor's hand: "We are not suitably dressed for the street, and our ordinary clothes are at the Palais de Justice. Will you be kind enough to stop a cab for us? We can get into it at the courtyard entrance!" The jailor decided that he could safely postpone his visit to Fandor's cell.
De Naarboveck was not only well posted in these details, but was aware that up to the day of Fandor's trial, in view of the extra coming and going, it had been decided to give the guardian an assistant, and that this assistant would be at his post from six o'clock onwards. It was past six o'clock.
With this, the agent retraced his steps, crossed the landing on to which Fandor's flat opened, and began to mount the next flight leading to the third floor. This did not suit Vinson: he was on tenterhooks. "If he keeps coming up," thought the corporal, "much use it will be for me to retreat upwards! He will nip me on the sixth floor! It's a dead cert!" Then he had a brilliant idea.
Yes, Fantômas had changed his plans: rid of the Nihilists, he could have it all his own way with Fandor! The disciples, as with one voice, cried: "We are thy faithful followers. What thou ordainest that we do!"... Trokoff turned to Fandor. He shook a threatening fist in Fandor's face. "Collect yourself.... You are to pay the price of expiation soon!"
It was a race between the escaping gas and the tunnel. Very soon Fandor began to feel a dizziness in his head, and the air became more difficult to breathe; suddenly, he had the sensation of being enveloped in an extraordinary blue flame, and then a loud report deafened him. Fandor's prison, saturated with gas, had suddenly blown up! The ground gave way beneath him: he was lying in the ruins.
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