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"Put out the lights!" cried Juve. Below them the avenue was black with people. After a moment they could distinguish what they were shouting. "Murderer! Murderer! Down with the King!" "That surprises you, Fandor," exclaimed Juve, "but for the last forty-eight hours I have been watching this trouble grow, and I tell you it is going to end badly."
I had to give him a message." "You will think me very inquisitive," continued Fandor, who pretended not to look at the young woman, in order to put her more at her ease, but who, in reality, did not lose a single change of expression on her pretty face, for he could watch its reflection in a mirror. "You will think me very inquisitive, but could you tell me the nature of ... this communication?"
One of the assistants brought a case which Deibler opened, and Fandor instinctively shrank as a flash from the bright steel fell full in his eyes, that sinister triangular knife that presently would do the work of death.
"In three minutes." Juve sat for a few minutes deep in thought. Then in a changed voice, a solemn voice with a sharp note in it, he said: "You know about Captain Brocq's sudden death, of course?... Let me tell you that I have discovered it was an assassination. It's this affair I am giving all my attention to." When there was mention of the Brocq affair, Fandor started.
Mysterious hands fixed a supple mask on his face, pressed something on his head. Dragged violently along, the cords cutting his flesh, Fandor realised his attackers were fastening him to something which held him stiffly upright. It must be one of the iron columns. Fandor thought he heard a receding voice mutter: "As Bobinette died, so shalt thou die through Fantômas!" Had he heard aright?
Two things were clear: Vagualame was arrested; she was free, and with the famous gun piece still in her possession.... To-morrow, she would obey orders received: she would take the piece to Havre, accompanied by Corporal Vinson, who would bring the plan of the apparatus. Bobinette had bent her head to the storm: she now raised it proudly. Fandor half opened his eyes. Was he dreaming?
If these people have discovered my identity? If, knowing that I am not Vinson, but Fandor, they have made me put on uniform, placed in the car with me a compromising portion of a gun, and are going to hand me over to the military authorities, either at Rouen, or elsewhere?" The abbé, comfortably ensconced in the corner, was slumbering again.
If the man at the Royal Palace wore 18-inch collars, he was certainly not Fandor, whose neck was very slender. The journalist wore size 14-1/2. One hour later it was then half-past ten in the morning Juve arrived at the Royal Palace.
Monsieur de Naarboveck makes it a point of honour never to get himself written about in the newspapers, therefore you must not be surprised."... The charming girl paused. Fandor bowed and smiled.
As the door closed on him, Fandor turned with an ironic salute towards the little priest. "Much pleased!" said he to himself. "And with the hope of never meeting you on my road without Juve on my heels to offer you a pair of handcuffs the right bracelets for you, and richly deserved." Fandor did not awaken the chauffeur. He went into the yard: there he encountered the hotel-keeper.
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