"The police! The police are on the track of Fantomas! Juve"s police.
Well, this time Fantomas will be too much for them. Lady Beltham--till we meet again."
Beating a rapid retreat behind a pillar of the chapel he vanished. Lady Beltham found herself alone in the chapel. Five minutes later the heavy steps of the police sounded in the pa.s.sages. They went through the house, searching for clues, then disappeared in the darkness of the night.
Lady Beltham addressed the nuns:
"A great peril threatens our sisters of the Boulevard Jourdan. They must be warned at all costs and at once. And it is necessary that I, and I only, should go to warn them. Have no fear. No harm will happen to me. I know what I am doing."
Under the appalled eyes of the sisterhood the Mother Superior slowly pa.s.sed from the a.s.sembled community with a sweeping gesture of farewell.
The moment she was alone, she ran to the far end of the garden and pa.s.sed through the little gate in the wall behind the chapel. She was gone!
While these strange occurrences were in progress at the peaceful convent of Nogent, and the flight of Lady Beltham at the bidding of Fantomas was effected under the eyes of the sisters, no little stir was manifest in the environs of La Chapelle, in the dreaded region where the hooligans, forming the celebrated gang of Cyphers, have their haunts.
A certain misrule reigned in the confederation, due to the fact that Loupart had not been seen for some time. None of its members believed for an instant the newspaper story that Loupart had turned out to be Fantomas--the elusive, the superhuman, the improbable, the weird Fantomas. This was beyond them. Good enough to stuff the numskull of the law with such a tale, but there was no use for it among the gang of Cyphers.
That same evening there was considerable excitement at the station in the Rue Stephenson. Detectives, inspectors, real or sham hooligans, were a.s.sembled there.
"Who is that gentleman?" asked M. Rouquelet, the Commissary of the district, pointing to a young man seated in a corner of the room, taking notes on a pad.
Juve, to whom the query was addressed, turned his head.
"Why, it"s Fandor, Jerome Fandor, my friend."
Juve was seated at the magistrate"s table, comparing papers, doc.u.ments, and material evidence; he had, standing round him men in uniform or mufti. One might have thought it the office of a general staff during a battle. The door opened to a man dressed like a market gardener.
"Well, Leon?" asked Juve.
"M. Inspector, it is done. We have nabbed the "Cooper.""
A sergeant of the 19th Arrondiss.e.m.e.nt appeared and saluted.
"M. Inspector, my men are bringing in "The Flirt." Her throat is cut."
"Is her murderer taken?"
"Not yet--there are several of them--but we know them. The wounded woman was able to tell us their names. They "bled" her because they suspected her of giving us information."
M. Rouquelet telephoned to Lariboisiere for an ambulance, and the officers went to see the victim, who was lying on a stretcher in the hall. At that moment, the sound of a struggle hurried Juve to the entrance of the station. Some officers were hauling in a youth with a pallid complexion and wicked eyes. Fandor recognised the captive.
"It"s that little collegian who bit my finger the night of the Ma.r.s.eilles Express!"
Leon, who had drawn near, likewise identified the youth.
"I know him, that"s Mimile. His account is settled, he is jugged!"
The hall of the station filled once more: an old woman, dragged in forcibly, was groaning and bawling at the top of her voice:
"Pack of swine! Isn"t it shameful to treat a poor woman so!"
"M. Superintendent," explained one of the men, "we caught this woman, Mother Toulouche--in the act of stowing away in her bodice a bundle of bank notes just pa.s.sed to her by a man. Here they are."
The constable handed the packet to the magistrate, and Fandor, who was watching, could not repress an exclamation.
"Oh!--Notes in halves! Suppose they belong to M. Martialle! Allow me, M.
Rouquelet, to look at the numbers."
"In with Mother Toulouche!" cried the Superintendent, then rubbing his hands he turned to Juve and cried:
"A fine haul, M. Inspector. What do you think?"
But Juve did not hear him; he had drawn Fandor into a corner of the office and was explaining:
"I have done no more at present than have Lady Beltham shadowed, but I do not mean to arrest her. You see, if I asked Fuselier for a warrant against Lady Beltham, a person legally dead and buried more than two months ago, that excellent functionary would swallow his clerk, stool and all, in sheer amazement."
At that moment a cyclist constable, dripping with sweat and quite out of breath, came in and hastening straight to Juve, cried:
"I come from Nogent!"
"Well?"
"Well, M. Inspector, they saw a masked man come out of the convent, wrapped in a big cloak. They gave chase--he fired a revolver twice and killed two officers."
"Good G.o.d! It was certainly----"
"We thought, too--that perhaps--after all--it was--it was Fantomas!"
"Juve!" called the Commissary. "You are wanted on the telephone. Neuilly is asking for you."
The detective picked up the receiver.
"h.e.l.lo! h.e.l.lo! Is that you, Michel? Yes. What is it? In a motor? Oh, you have taken the driver. But he--curse it! Who the devil is this man who always escapes us? What? He is in Lady Beltham"s house! You have surrounded the house? Good, keep your eyes open! Do nothing till I come."
Juve hung up the receiver and turned to Fandor.
"Fantomas is at Lady Beltham"s; shut up in the house. I am going there."
"I"ll go with you."
As the two men left the station, they were met by Inspector Grolle.
"We have taken "The Beard" at Daddy Korn"s," he cried.
"Confound that!" shouted Juve, as he jumped into a taxi with Fandor.
"Neuilly! Boulevard Inkermann, and top speed!"