"What ails you, Juve?" asked a gentle voice beside him. It was Fandor, who, knowing nothing of what had pa.s.sed, but suspecting there was mischief afoot, had come in search of Juve. Had he not seen the diplomat whom he knew to be Fantomas, and Fantomas on the point of being arrested, cross the ballroom rapidly and disappear in the crowd of dancers?
Juve could not find words for speech.
Great tears rolled down his cheeks, hollowed and lined with an immense fatigue.
At last he gave low utterance to his feelings.
"Fantomas! I had got him!... And it was I who had that cursed chair taken out of the library--I did it ... I!... It is thanks to me!"
Juve could not continue. He burst into tears in the arms of his devoted friend....
Once again Juve had suffered shipwreck when coming into harbour! Once again the bandit had escaped! Ah, decidedly Vagualame, Naarboveck, Fantomas, were one!
Fantomas the evasive, the elusive, the shadowy Fantomas, genius of evil, had flitted by them, had disappeared! Whither?...
Would Juve ever have his revenge?
The future alone would decide....
THE END