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Updated: June 23, 2025
Since Bobinette attempted suicide she had been removed to the infirmary with the faint hope that life was not extinct and she might yet be saved the hearing had been conducted in camera. But the revelations of the guilty girl had not only upset Dumoulin's course of procedure, but had also convinced the judges of Fandor's innocence.
"It was not to present me to the minister that you sent for me, my dear Chief unless you intend to get me an appointment as sub-prefect, in which case."... "In which case?" questioned M. Dupont gently. Fandor's reply was frank. "In which case, even before being nominated, I should tender you my resignation: it is not a profession which tempts me much!"
He had no friends or relatives to visit and console him or divert him. In his sleepless hours Fandor's thoughts would revert to his past, to the frightful drama of his boyhood, to the assassination of the Marquise de Langrune, when he, a youth of eighteen, had been suspected, had even been accused of committing this murder, the accuser being his own father!
De Naarboveck was moving hither and thither in the studio: at the same time he was observing Fandor, listening to what he had to say: he seemed to be reading Fandor's thoughts.
Fandor's critical faculties were momentarily suspended: he seemed moving in some dream. Mechanically he clothed himself in the get-up which the baron had thought good to bring him.
"I ... I don't understand." "Yes," insisted Fandor, "your Majesty does understand. You know that I am aware in whose presence I am standing. You are Frederick-Christian II, King of Hesse-Weimar... and I, your Majesty, am Jerome Fandor, reporter on La Capitale ... a journalist." The King did not appear to attach much importance to Fandor's words.
The servant looked consideringly at Fandor's name engraved on the card, stared at this unknown visitor, hoping he would definitely state the purpose of his visit, but the journalist remained impassive, and as his profession was not indicated on his card the servant had to be satisfied with his own curiosity. "Kindly wait here a moment," said the footman, in a fairly civil tone of voice.
There is only one person who would risk that Fantômas." Fandor's laugh had a note of mockery in it. He let Juve see that he thought his ideas on this subject were very simple indeed.
From a box he extracted a lifting-jack which, to Fandor's expert eye, did not seem to function so badly as all that. The chauffeur slipped it under the car. Fandor lent an experienced hand, and lifted the wheel, whose tire had just given up the ghost. "There, Monsieur! These punctures are the cause of endless delays," remarked Fandor, for the sake of saying something.
"What an idiot I am! After all, there's no danger ... it was a happy thought of mine leaving that note for Juve ... he'll come to-morrow at the latest ... that gives me the rest of the night." Fandor's ruse, its daring and its almost unheard of devotion, appeared to him quite natural. It was simply to set the King at liberty and remain himself in his place.
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