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Updated: June 20, 2025
As the elegant pedestrian did not seem to know he was being followed, the sordid individual stepped to his side, and murmured in his white beard distinctly enough to be heard: "Lieutenant! Do listen!... Look here, Monsieur de Loubersac ... Henri!" The young man turned: he gave the importunate speaker a withering stare: he was furious. The speaker was Vagualame.
The old fellow shuffled along beside the enraged lieutenant, whining, complaining of the precarious state of his finances, but de Loubersac was adamant. Perceiving this, Vagualame desisted. "I want to talk to you," said he. "To-morrow!" suggested de Loubersac. "No, at once. It is urgent." De Loubersac could hardly hear what Vagualame said.
He dragged her to the end of the shop, reached a corner, turned it, and they were standing on boards clear of books: it was hidden from the main part of the shop and from the entrance. "Draw your skirts between your legs!" he commanded. "Don't utter a sound!... Don't be afraid!" Vagualame was right. The police had surrounded the mysterious shop.
He thought better of it. He was pretty sure the girl doubted his genuineness. This arrest under her eyes would persuade her that the Vagualame they were taking to prison was the real Vagualame.... Better that she should cherish this delusion for the present. Once out of the de Naarboveck house, he could explain matters to his colleagues.
Had he not opened the door?... Only Trokoff, the expected, the longed for, could have done that! The assembly acclaimed him: "Trokoff! We for Russia welcome you! God be with you, Trokoff! Heaven guard you!" "God be with you, brothers!" Juve advanced, scrutinising each in turn: neither Vagualame nor Bobinette were among them. Juve addressed them: "My brothers!
Bobinette continued: "My evil genius, gentlemen, was a bandit of the worst kind: you know him under the name of Vagualame. Vagualame, agent of the Second Bureau, and officially a counter-spy. Quite so.
The piercing notes of the new groom's mother mingled with the refined accents of Wilhelmine de Naarboveck, who, in the absence of her companion, was about to show the new groom the room allotted to him. In such matters Wilhelmine was more punctilious than most. "Did you hear, Vagualame?" Bobinette paled. Could her overstrung nerves be playing her tricks?
The murderer of Brocq is assuredly Vagualame: as to the murderer of Nichoune: I do not yet know under what guise he committed his crime, but of one thing I am certain the author of this double crime is none other than Fantômas!
"Good evening, Sophie," said Vagualame: "Anything new?" "Nothing new, Vagualame!" Bobinette looked about her. She saw piles of books and collections of magazines and papers. The shop was crowded with them. "Sophie, I bring a new friend a sure friend who may have to bring you a letter for me one of these days," said Vagualame. The proprietress looked curiously at Bobinette.
His conviction that de Naarboveck and Fantômas had relations of some sort dated from the night of his own arrest as Vagualame in the house of de Naarboveck. He had gone further than that. "Yes," he had said to himself: "de Naarboveck must be a manifestation of Fantômas!" Corporal Vinson's revelations regarding the den in the rue Monge had but strengthened Juve's impression.
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