The Beard meanwhile had returned to the tavern and Casimir.
Suddenly, all was activity in the world of carriages and coachmen! The great ball was drawing to its end. Casimir was once more in possession of his motor, and had generously tipped his understudy: thereupon the hooligan had made off as fast as his legs could carry him. Ernestine joined him at the appointed spot: there the two rogues waited.
"Listen!" cried big Ernestine some fifteen minutes later.
She stared in the direction of the boulevard Malesherbes, with neck outstretched and straining eyeb.a.l.l.s. At last, after an agonising wait, she and Mimile saw the carriages driving by. "Attention!" cried big Ernestine in a sharp whisper ... "everybody"s on the move at last!"
The Beadle and the Beard, hidden in the crowd which thronged the approaches to the Thomery mansion, awaited the departure of Princess Sonia Danidoff: the idea of this rich prey excited them. Then as they stared at the first outflow of departing guests, the two bandits could not but notice that far from looking gay and animated as people do who have danced and supped well, these guests of Thomery showed pale, dejected faces: in fact, they had all the appearance of people under the influence of some tragic emotion.
"They look pretty down in the mouth, don"t they?" whispered the Beard in the Beadle"s ear.
"That"s a fact! You"d think they were returning from a funeral!"
Then a vague rumour began to circulate; confirmation followed, spread insensibly within the Thomery mansion, was pa.s.sed on by the lackeys, spread from the pavements to the avenue. People whispered of incomprehensible things incredible, but which little by little took definite shape. It was said that the Thomery ball had just become the scene of an accident, of a drama, of a robbery, of a crime!... The police, and of the highest grade, had intervened.... The news spread like a train of ignited gunpowder.... Nevertheless, if Thomery"s guests were cognisant of the details, they did not take the beggars and pickpockets into their confidence: among the light-fingered gentry conjectures were rife.
The Beadle and the Beard, who tried to catch odds and ends of talk separately, joined each other again, looking crestfallen, discomfited.
The Beadle broke silence, with an oath, adding:
"I am certain we have been done ... someone has got in before us--been too smart for us!"
Beard nodded: he was of the same opinion.
But who then could have had the audacity to plan such an attempt and carry it out, too? Who could have had the same idea as he and his comrades, and to realise it successfully? Whoever it was had proved himself the better man. In spite of himself the bandit, in thought, formulated one word:
Fantomas!
VIII
END OF THE BALL
When Sonia Danidoff entered Thomery"s ball-room she made a sensation. It was not far off midnight when she appeared in all her brilliant beauty and dazzling array, leaning on the arm of her host and fiance, who bore his honours proudly. Dancers paused to admire this handsome couple; then the Hungarian band redoubled their efforts, and the whirling, eddying waltz started afresh, more gay, more inspiriting than before.
In a corner opposite the musicians a group of persons were in animated talk: among them Sonia Danidoff, Thomery, and Jerome Fandor. Music was their theme, some admired Wagner and the cla.s.sics, others voted for the moderns, for the sugariest of waltzes, for the romantic, the bizarre.
"For the profane like myself," declared Thomery, laughing, "gipsy music has its charms!"
"Oh," cried Sonia Danidoff, "you are not going to tell me that such hackneyed things as _The Smile of Spring_ and _The Blush Rose Waltz_ are to your taste!"
Her tone was reproachful, but her smile was charming.
Nanteuil, the fashionable banker, who was fluttering about the Princess, hastened to take her side:
"Come now, Thomery, you would not put your signature to that?"
Jerome Fandor, who had just joined the group, declared:
"For my part, I thoroughly agree with you, my dear Monsieur Thomery!"
Sonia Danidoff looked her surprise.
Thomery replied, with a touch of malice:
"Monsieur Fandor is like myself--the Tonkinoise is more to his taste!"
"More than Wagner"s operatic big guns!" finished Fandor.
Then turning to the Princess who still wore her air of surprise:
"Yes, Princess, I confess it--my taste in music is deplorable: it comes from absolute ignorance. I do not understand these modern symphonies--the simple romantic suits me best!"
"And that is?" ... queried Nanteuil:
"Just some music-hall air or ditty," answered Fandor with a smile as frank as his confession.
The Princess was amused at this little pseudo-artistic discussion. She was about to speak when a couple of waltzers broke into the group and scattered it.
Jerome Fandor slipped away and wandered through the gorgeous reception rooms. Here and there, when caught up in the throng and forced to halt, or when pressed against the wall of the ball-room, sc.r.a.ps of conversation, mingled with the strains of the Hungarian band, fell on his retentive ears. He took refuge at last in the embrasure of a window; but his retreat was soon invaded by two young men who, he gathered, had run across each other in the gallery, and were continuing their talk about old times and new.
"Come, tell me, dear Charley, what has been happening to you since we left the school?"
"Bah! I go from the Madeleine to the Opera nearly every evening, and then back again; I go to bed late and get up late; I go out a good deal, as you see; sometimes I dance, but very rarely; I often play bridge ...
and that is about all! It"s not very interesting; but you, old boy ... I heard you had got a jolly good billet, my dear Andral!"
"Oh, hardly that, dear fellow; but I am well on the way to one, I fancy. I had the good luck to be introduced to Thomery, and it so happened he was wanting a young engineer for one of his sugar plantations in San Domingo."
"Good Lord! At San Domingo, among the n.i.g.g.e.rs?"
"That"s right! Not so bad, though it and the boulevards are a few miles apart! But, on the other hand, I am interested in my work, and I am married to a charming woman--Spanish."
"Won"t you introduce me to your wife?"
"When we are nearer to her, old fellow! I came to Paris by myself to talk big business with Thomery. I am only here for a fortnight.... Now do point out some of the celebrities--you know everybody!"
Charley adjusted his eyegla.s.s and looked about the room:
"Ah, there"s an interesting pair! That old fellow and the young one, who are so extraordinarily alike--the Barbey-Nanteuils, bankers for generations in the financial swim, and mixed up in all sorts of big affairs, sugar, among them.... Look here! That"s the widow of an iron master, Allouat--she is pa.s.sing close to the orchestra--not bad looking in spite of her mahogany-coloured hair, granddaughter of a famous French peer, Flavogny de Saint-Ange.... Ah, I breathe again!... It"s a detail, but I am quite delighted! General de Rini"s daughters have at last found partners: they are ugly, poor things, and they"ve dressed themselves in rose-pink as though they were schoolgirls: a fine name, a distinguished position, but no fortune, and no husband!... Ah, now there"s someone who looks as if he were in luck--and he is, too--matrimonial luck. The affair is settled this evening, it"s whispered. It will interest you particularly, for the lucky fellow is none other than Thomery!"
"What! Thomery?"
"Yes, Thomery! Although he is well over fifty, he means to commit matrimony! I quite envy him his future wife, my Andral! There she is!
That stately dame who is going towards the last of the reception rooms all alone, rather haughty, but a n.o.ble creature--it"s Princess Sonia Danidoff, related to the Tzar in some distant way and with an immense fortune. Just look, dear boy, at those splendid jewels on that beautiful neck of hers! They say she"s got on seven hundred thousand francs"
worth--and the rest to match--millions to swell the sugar refiner"s pouch! She is to lead the cotillion with him, so there"s no doubt about the betrothal. By the by, you are going to stay for the cotillion?"