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We had a negro village here a few years ago ... hadn't we, M. von Kampfen?" "Quite true, your Majesty," replied the Chamberlain, bowing deeply. The Queen turned again to Juve: "I congratulate you, Monsieur, and I beg you to persevere in the work to which your special aptitude calls you." The interview was at an end, and Juve was left wondering whether he should leave the room.
"Juve, I assert that if Captain Brocq is dead it is because there is a spy in the pay of a foreign power, who, being under supervision, perhaps on the point of being arrested, has resolved that the captain must die in order to save himself.... A document has been stolen, and it is precisely this fact which makes me disbelieve in the intervention of Fantômas."... "You do not believe me, Juve?"
Two military jailors confronted him. "Butler?" The traitor answered to that name. Juve, for reasons of his own, had not revealed the prisoner's true quality. Vinson had therefore been entered in the jail book as Butler. One of the jailors, an old veteran, whose uniform was a mixture of the civil and the military, took the word.
Please go on with your work exactly as though I were not in the house, Mme. Doulenques." It was his usual phrase, and a constant disappointment to the concierge, who would have asked nothing better than to go upstairs with the detective and watch him at his wonderful work. Juve went up the five floors to the flat formerly occupied by Gurn, reflecting somewhat moodily.
As the air now began to grow chilly, Juve returned to his compartment and picked up his overcoat. He was about to put it on, when he stopped in amazement. On the lining was pinned a paper with the following words scribbled in pencil: "America Hotel, Paris." For a long time Juve, with bent brows, read and reread these words.
Juve paced up and down, rejecting one hypothesis after another. Finally, with a shrug of his shoulders, he cried: "Bah! I shall know all in good time. Let's get to the most pressing problem.
Had not Juve been haunted by this form, this figure so mysteriously indicated, haunted by this invisible face hidden by its hooded cloak of black haunted for years! Never had he been able to get close to it! Never had he been able to seize it in his hands, outstretched to grasp it! Whenever this sinister garment had met his eyes, it had been the sign of some frightful deception!
The chief commissioner of police was surprised beyond words when he saw the king listening attentively to what Juve had to say, then nod acquiescence, leave the ballroom and enter the gallery on to which several rooms opened, including the library at the far end. Juve glanced discreetly at his watch. He was startled. His expression altered. It grew severe, determined.
Juve had felt anxious as he accosted de Loubersac: no doubt the lieutenant and his secret agent had some set form of greeting, some agreed on method of imparting information. By incurring the fine, Juve realised that he had made a wrong start perhaps omitted a password. Still, he had obtained the essential thing a private talk with this particular official of the Second Bureau.
Juve said the last words in tones of such earnest and solemn denunciation that the truth of them seemed beyond all doubt. And yet he read incredulous surprise in the attitude of the jury. From the body of the court, too, a murmur rose that was not sympathetic.
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