Fantômas

by Pierre Souvestre and Marcel Allain

  XXXI. FELL TREACHERY

  Number 22 rue Messier was a wretched one-storeyed house that belonged toa country vine-dresser who seldom came to Paris. It was damp, dirty, anddilapidated, and would have had to be rebuilt from top to bottom if itwere to be rendered habitable. There had been a long succession ofso-called tenants of this hovel, shady, disreputable people who, for themost part, left without paying any rent, the landlord being only tooglad if occasionally they left behind them a little miserable furnitureor worn out kitchen utensils. He was finding it ever more difficult tolet the wretched house, and for weeks together it had remainedunoccupied. But one day, about a month ago, he had been astonished byreceiving an application for the tenancy from someone who vaguely signedhimself Durand; and still further astonished by finding in the envelopebank-notes representing a year's rent in advance. Delighted with thiswindfall, and congratulating himself on not having gone to the expenseof putting the hovel into something like repair--unnecessary now, sincehe had secured a tenant, and a good one, for at least twelve months--thelandlord promptly sent a receipt to this Durand, with the keys, andthought no more about the matter.

  In the principal room, on the first floor of this hovel, a little poorfurniture had been put; a shabby sofa, an equally shabby arm-chair, afew cane-bottomed chairs, and a deal table. On the table was a tea-pot,a small kettle over a spirit-stove, and a few cups and small cakes. Asmoky lamp shed a dim light over this depressing interior, and a handfulof coal was smouldering in the cracked grate.

  And here, in these miserable surroundings, Lady Beltham was installed onthis eighteenth of December.

  The great lady was even paler than usual, and her eyes shone with acurious brilliance. That she was suffering from the most acute andfeverish nervous excitement was patent from the way in which she keptputting her hands to her heart as though the violence of its throbbingwere unendurable, and from the restless way in which she paced the room,stopping at every other step to listen for some sound to reach herthrough the silence of the night. Once she stepped quickly from themiddle of the room to the wall opposite the door that opened on to thestaircase; she pushed ajar the door of a small cupboard and murmured"hush," making a warning movement with her hands, as if addressingsomeone concealed there; then she moved forward again and, sinking on tothe sofa, pressed her hands against her throbbing temples.

  "No one yet!" she murmured presently. "Oh, I would give ten years of mylife to----! Is all really lost?" Her eyes wandered round the room."What a forbidding, squalid place!" and again she sprang to her feet andpaced the room. Through the grimy panes of the window she could just seea long row of roofs and chimneys outlined against the sky. "Oh, thoseblack roofs, those horrible black roofs!" she muttered. The alreadywretched light in the wretched room was burning dimmer, and Lady Belthamturned up the wick of the lamp. As she did so she caught a sound andstopped. "Can that be he?" she exclaimed, and hurried to the door."Footsteps--and a man's footsteps!"

  The next moment she was sure. Someone stumbled in the passage below,came slowly up the stairs, was on the landing.

  Lady Beltham recoiled to the sofa and sank down on it, turning her backto the door, and hiding her face in her hands.

  "Valgrand!"

  * * * * *

  Valgrand was a man with a passion for adventure. But invariable successin his flirtations had made him blase, and now it was only theabsolutely novel that could appeal to him. And there could certainly beno question about the woman who had sent him the present invitationbeing anything but a commonplace one! Moreover, it was not just anywoman who had asked him to keep this assignation in the outward guise ofGurn, but the one woman in whose heart the murderer ought to inspire thegreatest abhorrence, the widow of the man whom Gurn had murdered. Whatshould his deportment be when he came face to face with her? That waswhat preoccupied the actor as he left the theatre, and made him dismissthe taxi in which he had started, before he reached his destination.

  Valgrand came into the room slowly, and with a trained eye for effect.He flung his cloak and hat theatrically on the arm-chair, and movedtowards Lady Beltham, who still sat motionless with her face hidden inher hands.

  "I have come!" he said in deep tones.

  Lady Beltham uttered a little exclamation as if of surprise, and seemedeven more anxious to hide from him.

  "Odd!" thought Valgrand. "She seems to be really upset; what can I sayto her, I wonder?"

  But Lady Beltham made a great effort and sat up, looking at the actorwith strained eyes, yet striving to force a smile.

  "Thank you for coming, sir," she murmured.

  "It is not from you, madame, that the thanks should come," Valgrandanswered magnificently; "quite the reverse; I am infinitely grateful toyou for having summoned me. Pray believe that I would have been hereeven sooner but for the delay inevitable on a first performance. But youare cold," he broke off, for Lady Beltham was shivering.

  "Yes, I am," she said almost inaudibly, mechanically pulling a scarfover her shoulders. Valgrand was standing, taking in every detail of thesqualid room in which he found himself with this woman whose wealth, andtaste, and sumptuous home at Neuilly were notorious.

  "I must clear up this mystery," he thought, while he moved to the windowto see that it was shut, and searched about, in vain, for a little coalto put upon the fire. While he was thus occupied Lady Beltham also rose,and going to the table poured out two cups of tea.

  "Perhaps this will warm us, in the absence of anything better," shesaid, making an effort to seem more amiable. "I am afraid it is ratherstrong, M. Valgrand; I hope you do not mind?" and, with a hand thattrembled as if it held a heavy weight, she brought one of the cups toher guest.

  "Tea never upsets me, madame," Valgrand replied as he took the cup."Indeed, I like it." He came to the table and picked up the basin filledwith castor sugar, making first as if to put some in her cup.

  "Thanks, I never take sugar in tea," she said.

  Valgrand made a little grimace. "I admire you, but I will not imitateyou," he said, and unceremoniously tipped a generous helping of thesugar into his own cup.

  Lady Beltham watched him with haggard eyes.

  While they were sipping their tea, there was silence between them. LadyBeltham went back to the sofa, and Valgrand took a chair quite close toher. The conversation was certainly lacking in animation, he reflectedwhimsically; would the lady succeed in reducing him to the level ofintelligence of a callow schoolboy? And she most certainly did seem tobe horribly upset. He raised his eyes to her and found that she wasgazing into infinity.

  "One has got to draw upon psychology here," Valgrand mused. "It is notme, myself, in whom this lovely creature takes any interest, or shewould not have desired me to come in these trappings that make me looklike Gurn; it's his skin that I must stop in! But what is the properattitude to adopt? The sentimental? Or the brutal? Or shall I appeal toher proselytising mania, and do the repentant sinner act? I'll chanceit; here goes!" and he rose to his feet.

  As he moved, Lady Beltham looked round, uneasy, frightened, almostanguished: it seemed as though she realised that the moment had come forextraordinary things to happen.

  Valgrand began to speak as he did upon the stage, restraining hiseffects at first and controlling his voice of set purpose to give fulleffect to it later on, modulating it cleverly.

  "At your summons, madame, the prisoner Gurn has burst his bonds, brokenthrough the door of his cell, and scaled his prison walls, triumphingover every obstacle with the single object of coming to your feet. Hecomes----" and he took a step nearer to her.

  Lady Beltham stayed him with a gesture of terror.

  "Don't! Don't! Please say no more!" she murmured.

  "I've got a bite," Valgrand said to himself. "Let's try another bait,"and as if repeating a part he said dramatically: "Has your charitableheart turned towards the guilty soul that you fain would rescue fromtransgression? Men say you are so great a lady, so good, so near toheaven!"

&nbs
p; Again Lady Beltham put up a protesting hand.

  "Not that! Not that!" she said imploringly. "Oh, this is torture; goaway!"

  In her distress she was really superbly beautiful; but Valgrand knew toomuch about women of every temperament, neurotic, hysterical, and manyanother kind, not to suppose that here he was merely taking part in asentimental comedy. He made a rough gesture and laid his hand on LadyBeltham's arm.

  "Do you not know me?" he said harshly. "I am Gurn! I will crush you tomy heart!" and he tried to draw her close to him.

  But this time Lady Beltham threw him off with the violence of despair."Stand back! You brute!" she cried, in tones that there was nomistaking.

  Valgrand recoiled in real dismay, and stood silent in the middle of theroom, while Lady Beltham went to the wall farthest from him and leanedfor support against it.

  "Listen, madame," Valgrand began presently, in dulcet tones that had theeffect of making Lady Beltham try to control her emotion and murmur somefaint words of apology. "Of course you know I am Valgrand, Valgrand theactor; I will apologise for having come to you like this, but I havesome small excuse in your note!"

  "My note?" she murmured. "Oh, yes; I forgot!"

  Valgrand went on, seeming to pick his words.

  "You have overestimated your strength, and now perhaps you find theresemblance too startling? Do not be frightened. But your letter cameto me like healing balm upon a quivering wound. For weeks, longweeks----" The actor stopped, and mechanically rubbed his eyes. "It'sodd," he thought to himself, "but I feel ever so much more inclined togo to sleep than to make love." He shook off his real desire for sleepand began again. "I have loved you since the day I saw you first. I loveyou with an intensity----"

  For some moments Lady Beltham had been looking at him with a calmer air,and eyes that were less hostile. The old amorist observed it, and made atremendous effort to overcome his most inopportune drowsiness.

  "How shall I be silent, when at last kind heaven is about to grant thefondest desire of my heart? When, all afire with love, I am kneeling atyour feet?"

  Valgrand dropped to his knees. Lady Beltham drew herself up, listening.In the distance a clock struck four.

  "Oh, I can bear it no longer!" she cried stammeringly. "I can bear nomore! Listen; four o'clock! No, no! It is too much, too much for me!"The woman seemed absolutely frantic. She paced up and down the room likea caged animal. Then she came close to Valgrand, and looked at him withan immense pity in her eyes. "Go, sir; if you believe in God, go away!Go as quickly as you can!"

  Valgrand struggled to his feet. His head was heavy, and he had anirresistible desire to hold his tongue and just stay where he was.Partly from gallantry and partly from his desire not to move, hemurmured, not without a certain aptness: "I believe only in the god oflove, madame, and he bids me remain!"

  In vain did Lady Beltham make every effort to rouse the actor and inducehim to go away; in vain were all her frantic appeals to him to fly.

  "I will stay," was all he said, and he dropped heavily on the sofa byLady Beltham's side, and mechanically tried to put his arm round her.

  "Listen!" she began, freeing herself from him: "in heavens name youmust---- And yet, I cannot tell you! Oh, it is horrible! I am goingmad! How am I to choose! What am I to do! Which----? Oh, go--go--go!There is not a minute to lose!"

  "I will stay!" said Valgrand again; this amazing drowsiness was gainingon him so fast that he had but one desire left--for sleep! Surely astrange assignation, this, and a poor kind of lover, too!

  Lady Beltham stopped her torrent of appeal, and looked at the actorcrumpled up beside her. Suddenly she started and listened: a slightnoise became audible, coming from the staircase. Lady Beltham stooderect and rigid: then dropped to her knees upon the floor.

  "Oh! It is all over!" she sobbed.

  * * * * *

  In spite of his overwhelming longing for sleep, Valgrand suddenlystarted. Two heavy hands fell on his shoulder, and then his arms werepulled behind him and his wrists rapidly bound together.

  "Good God!" he cried, in stupefied surprise, turning quickly round. Twomen stood before him, old soldiers by the look of them, in dark uniformsrelieved only by the gleam of metal buttons. He was going to say more,but one of the men laid his hand over his lips.

  "Hush!" he said peremptorily.

  Valgrand made frantic efforts to prevent himself from falling.

  "What does this mean? Let me go! What right----"

  The two men began to drag him gently away.

  "Come along," said one of them in his ear. "Time's up. Don't beobstinate."

  "Besides, you know it's quite useless to resist, Gurn," the other added,not unkindly. "Nothing in the world could----"

  "I don't understand," Valgrand protested feebly. "Who are you? And whydo you call me Gurn?"

  "Let me finish," growled one of the men irritably. "You know we arerunning an awful risk in getting you out of the prison and bringing youhere when you are supposed to be with the chaplain; you swore you wouldbehave squarely with us and go back when you were told. Now you've gotto keep your promise."

  "The lady paid us well to give you an hour with her," the other man putin, "but you've had more than an hour and a half, and we've got ourcharacters and our situations to look after. So now, come along, Gurn,and don't let us have any nonsense."

  Valgrand, fighting hard against his overpowering sleepiness, began tohave some vague comprehension of what was happening. He recognised theuniforms, and guessed that the men were prison warders.

  "Good God!" he exclaimed thickly, "the fools think I am Gurn! But I amnot Gurn! Ask----" He cast a despairing eye at Lady Beltham whothroughout the awful scene remained on her knees in a corner of theroom, dumb with anguish, apparently deaf and turned to stone. "Tellthem, madame," he implored her. "Oh, God save me!" but still the wardersdragged him towards the door. By an herculean effort he swayed them backwith him into the middle of the room. "I am not Gurn, I tell you," heshouted. "I am Valgrand, Valgrand the actor. Everybody in the worldknows me. You know it too, but---- Search me, I tell you," and he made asign with his head towards his left side. "Look in my pocket-book; myname's inside; and you'll find a letter too; proof of the trap I've beenled into: the letter from that woman over there!"

  "Better look and see, Nibet," one warder said to the other, and toValgrand he added: "Not so much noise, man! Do you mean to get us allcaught?"

  Nibet passed a quick hand through Valgrand's pockets; there was nonote-book there. He shrugged his shoulders.

  "Besides, what about it?" he growled. "We brought Gurn here, didn't we?Well, we've got to take Gurn back again. That's all I know. Come on!"

  Beaten down by the drowsiness that was quite irresistible, and worn outby his violent but futile efforts to resist the warders, Valgrand washalf dragged, half carried out by the two men, his head drooping on hischest, his consciousness failing. But still as they were getting himdown the stairs his voice could be heard in the half-dark room above,bleating more weakly and at longer intervals:

  "I am not Gurn! I am not Gurn!"

  Once more silence reigned in the room. After the three men had gone,Lady Beltham rose to her feet, tottered to the window, and stood therelistening. She heard their footsteps crossing the street and stopping bythe door into the prison. She waited for a few minutes to make sure thatthey had escaped unnoticed from their amazing adventure, then turnedagain to the sofa, struggled to unfasten the collar of her dress to getmore air, drew a few deep sighs, and swooned.

  The door opposite the staircase opened slowly, and noiselessly Gurnemerged from the darkness and went towards Lady Beltham. The murdererflung himself at her feet, covered her face with kisses, and pressed herhands in his.

  "Maud!" he called. "Maud!"

  She did not answer and he hunted about the room for something to reviveher. Presently, however, she recovered consciousness unaided and uttereda faint sigh. Her lover hurried to her.

  "Oh, Gurn," she m
urmured, laying her white hand on the wretch's neck:"it's you, dear! Come close to me, and hold me in your arms! It was toomuch for me! I almost broke down and told everything! I could have borneno more. Oh, what an appalling time!" She sat up sharply, her face drawnwith terror. "Listen: I can hear him still!"

  "Try not to think about it," Gurn whispered, caressing her.

  "Did you hear him, how he kept on saying 'I am not Gurn! I am not Gurn!'Oh, heaven grant they may not find that out!"

  Gurn himself was shaken by the horror of the plot he had contrived withhis mistress to effect this substitution of another for himself; itsurpassed in ghastliness anything that had gone before, and he had notdared to give the least hint of it to Nibet.

  "The warders were well paid," he said to reassure her now. "They woulddeny everything." He hesitated a second, and then asked: "He drank thedrug, didn't he?"

  Lady Beltham nodded assent.

  "It will take effect. It was acting already: so rapidly, that I thoughtfor a moment he would fall unconscious there, at my feet!"

  Gurn drew a deep breath.

  "Maud, we are saved!" he exclaimed. "See," he went on, "as soon as it islight, and there are enough people in the street for us to mix with themunobserved, we will go away from here. While you were with--him---- Iburned my other clothes, so I will take these to get away in." He pickedup the hat and cloak which Valgrand had thrown upon the chair, andwrapped the heavy cloak around himself. "This will conceal meeffectively."

  "Let us go at once!" Lady Beltham exclaimed, but Gurn stayed her.

  "I must get rid of this beard, and my moustache," he said, and he took apair of scissors from his pocket and was walking towards a looking-glasswhen suddenly they both heard the distinct sound of footsteps comingslowly and steadily up the stairs. Gurn had no time to get back to hisformer hiding-place; all he could do was to sink into the one arm-chairthat was in the room, and conceal his features as well as he could byturning down the brim of the hat and turning up the collar of the cloakwhich the actor had forgotten. The man went as white as a sheet, butLady Beltham appeared to recover all her presence of mind, and strength,and daring, at the approach of danger, and she hurried to the door. Butthough she tried to keep it shut, it slowly turned upon the hinges, anda timid, hesitating figure appeared in the doorway and advanced towardsthe retreating woman.

  "Who are you? What do you want?" Lady Beltham faltered.

  "I beg you to excuse me, madame," the man began, "I came to----" Hecaught sight of Gurn and pointed to him. "M. Valgrand knows me well. Iam Charlot, his dresser at the theatre, and I came to--I wanted to havea word--stay----" he took a small square parcel from his pocket. "M.Valgrand went off so hurriedly that he forgot his pocket-book, and so Icame to bring it to him." The dresser was trying to get near themurderer, whom he supposed to be his master, but Lady Beltham, in themost acute anxiety, kept between the two men. Charlot misunderstood herintention. "I also came to----" He stopped again and whispered to LadyBeltham. "He does not speak: is he very angry with me for coming? Ididn't come out of curiosity, or to cause you any trouble, madame; willyou ask him not to be very angry with his poor old Charlot?"

  Lady Beltham felt like swooning again; she could endure very little ofthis old man's garrulity.

  "Go, for goodness' sake, go," she said peremptorily.

  "I am going," Charlot said; "I know I am in the way; but I must explainto him," and he raised his voice and spoke to Gurn, who sat quite still,sinking as far as he could into the shadow of the chair. "You are notvery angry with me, M. Valgrand, are you?" and getting no reply helooked apologetically at Lady Beltham. "It was all these stories, andthen the street, and the prison opposite: but perhaps you do not know;you see, I read in the paper yesterday, or rather to-night, a couple ofhours ago, that that man Gurn, who murdered the rich English gentleman,was to be executed this morning. And so I was rather what you might calluneasy; at first I only meant to follow M. Valgrand and wait for himdown below, but I lost my way and I have only just arrived; I found thedoor open, and as I did not know whether he had gone or was still here,I took the liberty to come upstairs. But I am going now, quite easy inmy mind, since he is quiet and happy here with you. And I beg yourpardon, madame." He threw a last appeal to where Gurn sat. "I hope youwill forgive me, M. Valgrand?" He sighed as no answer was forthcoming,and made a pathetic little appeal to Lady Beltham. "You will explain tohim, madame, won't you? He is a kind master, and he will understand. Onedoes get fancies like that, you know. But now I will go away easy, quiteeasy in my mind, since I have seen him."

  Charlot turned away slowly, with bent shoulders. As he passed the windowhe glanced outside and stopped short. Day was just beginning to break,making the wan light of the street lamps still more wan. From the windowa view could be obtained of a kind of platform at the corner of theboulevard Arago which was bounded by the high wall of the Sante prison.This spot, usually deserted, was crowded with people; a moving mob,swarming and struggling behind some hastily erected barriers. Charlotstretched a trembling hand towards the spectacle, in suddencomprehension.

  "Good heavens!" he cried, "that must be where they are putting up thescaffold. Yes, I can see the planks and uprights; it is the guillotine!The exe----"

  The old man's words ended in a sudden cry, and almost simultaneouslythere was a heavy thud.

  Struck from behind, Charlot fell like a log to the floor, while LadyBeltham recoiled in terror, clenching her fists to prevent herself fromscreaming.

  Seizing the opportunity presented by Valgrand's faithful servantstanding so still, hypnotised by the gruesome spectacle being preparedoutside, Gurn had drawn a knife from his pocket, and, springing on theunfortunate old man, had driven the blade up to the hilt behind hisneck.

  Charlot fell prone and rigid, the weapon remaining in the wound andstopping the flow of blood.

  Lady Beltham was staring at the victim in horror, but Gurn seized herroughly by the arm.

  Without troubling to alter the appearance of his face, but horrified asshe was by the tragedies which had succeeded one another in suchappalling and rapid succession during this awful night, Gurn drew thehalf-fainting woman to him, and hurried her away.

  "Come quick!" he muttered hoarsely. "Let us get out of this!"

  XXXII. ON THE SCAFFOLD

  It was still dark.

  In the keen morning air a crowd came hurrying along the pavements,flowing over into the roadways. The boulevards were black with people,all marching briskly towards one common goal. And it was alight-hearted, singing crowd, chanting the choruses of popular songs andswarming into the open restaurants and wine-shops and drinking dens.

  And it was noticeable that all these late birds belonged to one of twosharply divided classes. They were either rich, or miserably poor; theyeither came from the night clubs, or they were the poor devils with nohomes or hearths who roam about the city from one year's end to another.There were crooks whose faces shone with the evil excitement of alcohol,out-of-works of all kinds, beggars, and young men--all young men--withsleek oiled hair and shiny boots, in whose eyes and demeanour theft andcrime could be seen.

  By a curious coincidence the great news seemed to have reached all,toffs and crooks alike, at exactly the same time. About midnight therumour had run round the town; it was certain, definite this time; theofficial steps had been taken, and the guillotine was going to raise herblood-stained arms towards the sky; at earliest dawn, Gurn, the man whohad murdered Lord Beltham, was to undergo the supreme punishment, andexpiate his murder with his life.

  No sooner had the great news become known than all prepared, as for aholiday, to go to see the man's head fall. At Montmartre carriages wererequisitioned and taxi-cabs were at a premium. Women in gorgeoustoilets and sparkling with jewels streamed from the open doors into thecarriages which should bear them swiftly towards the Sante prison, andthe place of execution. In the faubourgs likewise, the bars were emptiedof their customers, and men and women, linked arm-in-arm, set forth onfoot, with songs and r
ibaldries upon their lips, for the spectacle ofblood and the boulevard Arago.

  Around the Sante prison an atmosphere of pleasure reigned as the people,massed together in tight ranks, produced bottles of wine, and atesausages, and gaily enjoyed an improvised supper in the open air, whilespeculating about the details of the sight they had come to see. And sothe crowd amused itself, for Gurn's head was going to fall.

  Worming his way through the crowd, Francois Bonbonne, the landlord ofthe Saint-Anthony's Pig, led a little company of friends who tookadvantage of his great stature to find the best path to take.

  The landlord was half-drunk already in honour of the occasion.

  "Come along, Billy Tom," he shouted. "Catch hold of the tail of my coatand then you won't lose us. Where is Hogshead Geoffroy?"

  "He's coming along with Bouzille."

  "Good! Just fancy if Bouzille had tried to get through here with histrain! There are some people about, eh?"

  Two men passed the landlord of the market inn just then.

  "Come along," said one of them, and as the other caught him up, Juveadded: "Didn't you recognise those fellows?"

  "No," said Fandor.

  Juve told him the names of the men whom they had passed.

  "You will understand that I don't want them to recognise me," he said,and as Fandor smiled Juve went on: "It's a queer thing, but it is alwaysthe future customers of the guillotine, apaches and fellows like that,who make a point of seeing this ghastly spectacle." The detectivestopped and laid a hand upon the journalist's shoulder. "Wait," he said,"we are right in front now: only the men who are holding the line areahead of us. If we want to get through and avoid the crush we must makeourselves known at once. Here is your pass."

  Jerome Fandor took the card which Juve held out to him, and had got forhim as a special favour.

  "What do we do now?" he asked.

  "Here come the municipal guards," Juve replied; "I can see their sabresflashing. We will get behind the newspaper kiosks and let them drive thecrowd back, and then we will go through."

  Juve had correctly anticipated the manoeuvre which the officer incommand of the squadron immediately proceeded to execute. Grave andimposing, and marvellously mounted on magnificent horses, a large numberof municipal guards had just arrived on the boulevard Arago, by the sideof the Sante prison, and just where the detective and the journalistwere standing. A sharp order rang out, and the guards deployed fan-wiseand, riding knee to knee, drove the crowd back irresistibly to the endof the avenue, utterly disregarding the angry murmur of protest, and thegeneral crushing that ensued.

  The municipal guards were followed by troops of infantry, and theseagain by gendarmes who, holding hands, moved on all who by some means orother had managed to worm their way between the horses of the guards andthe infantry, determined at any cost to keep in the front row ofspectators.

  Juve and Fandor, armed with their special passes which admitted them tothe enclosure where the guillotine actually stood, had no difficulty ingetting through the triple line. They found themselves in the centre ofa large portion of the boulevard Arago, entirely clear of spectators,and bounded on one side by the walls of the prison, and on the other bythose of a convent.

  In this clear space about a dozen individuals in black coats and silkhats were walking about, affecting a complete indifference to what wasgoing to happen, although really they were profoundly affected by it.

  "Chief detective-inspectors," Juve said, pointing them out: "mycolleagues. Some of yours too: do you see them? Chief reporters of thebig dailies. Are you aware that you are uncommonly lucky to have beenselected, at your extremely youthful age, to represent your paper atthis lugubrious function?"

  Jerome Fandor made an odd grimace.

  "I don't mind admitting to you, Juve, that I am here because I am likeyou in wanting to see Gurn's head fall; you have satisfied me beyond alldoubt that Gurn is Fantomas, and I want to be sure that Fantomas isreally dead. But if it were not the execution of that one particularwretch,--the only thing that can make society safe,--I should certainlyhave declined the honour of reporting this event."

  "It upsets you?"

  "Yes."

  Juve bent his head.

  "So it does me! Just think: for more than five years I have beenfighting Fantomas! For more than five years I have believed in hisexistence, in spite of all ridicule and sarcasm! For more than fiveyears I have been working for this wretch's death, for death is the onlything that can put a stop to his crimes!" Juve paused a moment, butFandor made no comment. "And I am rather sick and sorry, too: because,although I have reached this certainty that Gurn is Fantomas, and havesucceeded in convincing intelligent people, who were ready to study mywork in good faith, I have nevertheless not succeeded in establishinglegal proof that Gurn is Fantomas. Deibler and the Public Prosecutor,and people generally, think that it is merely Gurn who is going to bedecapitated now. I may have secured this man's condemnation, but nonethe less he has beaten me and deprived me of the satisfaction of havingbrought him, Fantomas, to the scaffold! I have only consigned Gurn tothe scaffold, and that is a defeat!"

  The detective stopped. From the boulevard Arago, from the end to whichthe crowd had been driven back, cheers and applause and joyous shoutsbroke out; it was the mob welcoming the arrival of the guillotine.

  Drawn by an old white horse, a heavy black van arrived at a fast trot,escorted by four mounted police with drawn swords. The van stopped a fewyards from Juve and Fandor; the police rode off, and a shabby broughamcame into view, from which three men in black proceeded to get out.

  "Monsieur de Paris and his assistants," Juve informed Fandor: "Deiblerand his men." Fandor shivered, and Juve went on with his explanations."That van contains the timbers and the knife. Deibler and his men willget the guillotine up in half an hour, and in an hour at the outside,Fantomas will be no more!"

  While the detective was speaking, the executioner had stepped briskly tothe officer in charge of the proceedings and exchanged a few words withhim. He signified his approval of the arrangements made, saluted thesuperintendent of police of that division, and turned to his men.

  "Come along, lads; get to work!" He caught sight of Juve and shook handswith him. "Good morning," he said, adding, as though his work were ofthe most commonplace kind: "Excuse me: we are a bit late this morning!"

  The assistants took from the van some long cases, wrapped in grey canvasand apparently very heavy. They laid these on the ground with the utmostcare: they were the timbers and frame of the guillotine, and must not bewarped or strained, for the guillotine is a nicely accurate machine!

  They swept the ground thoroughly, careful to remove any gravel whichmight have affected the equilibrium of the framework, and then set upthe red uprights of the scaffold. The floor timbers fitted one intoanother and were joined by stout metal clamps fastened together by abolt; next the men set the grooved slides, down which the knife mustfall, into holes cut for the purpose in the middle of the floor. Theguillotine now raised its awful arms to the sky.

  Hitherto Deibler had merely watched his men at work. Now he took a handhimself.

  With a spirit-level he ascertained that the floor was absolutelyhorizontal; next he arranged the two pieces of wood, from each of whicha segment is cut so as to form the lunette into which the victim's neckis thrust; then he tested the lever, to make sure that it worked freely,and gave a curt order.

  "The knife!"

  One of the assistants brought a case which Deibler opened, and Fandorinstinctively shrank as a flash from the bright steel fell full in hiseyes, that sinister triangular knife that presently would do the work ofdeath.

  Deibler leant calmly against the guillotine, fitted the shank into thegrooves in the two uprights, and, setting the mechanism to work, hoistedup the knife which glittered strangely; he looked the whole thing overand turned again to his assistants.

  "The hay!"

  A truss was arranged in the lunette, and Deibler came up to theinstrument and pressed a spring
. Like a flash the knife dropped down theuprights and severed the truss in two.

  The rehearsal was finished. Now for the real drama!

  While the guillotine was being set up Juve had stood by Fandor nervouslychewing cigarettes.

  "Everything is ready now," he said to the lad. "Deibler has only got toput on his coat and take delivery of Fantomas."

  The assistants had just arranged two baskets filled with bran along eachside of the machine; one was destined to receive the severed head, theother the body when that was released from the plyer. The executionerpulled on his coat, rubbed his hands mechanically, and then strodetowards a group of officials who had arrived while the guillotine wasbeing erected, and were now standing by the entrance to the prison.

  "Gentlemen," said Deibler, "it will be sunrise in a quarter of an hour.We can proceed to awaken the prisoner."

  Slowly, in single file, the officials went inside the prison.

  * * * * *

  There were present the Attorney General, the Public Prosecutor, hisdeputy, the Governor of the prison, and behind these, M. Havard,Deibler, and his two assistants.

  The little company passed through the corridors to the third floor,where the condemned cells are.

  The warder Nibet came forward with his bunch of keys in his hand.

  Deibler looked at the Public Prosecutor.

  "Are you ready, sir?" and as that gentleman, who was very white, made asign of assent, Deibler looked at the Governor of the prison.

  "Unlock the cell," the Governor ordered.

  Nibet turned the key noiselessly and pushed open the door.

  The Public Prosecutor stepped forward. He had hoped to find thecondemned man asleep, and so have had a moment's respite beforeannouncing the fatal news. But he drew back; for the man was awake anddressed, sitting ready on his bed with mad, haggard eyes.

  "Gurn," said the Public Prosecutor. "Be brave! Your appeal has beenrejected!"

  The others, standing behind him, were all silent, and the words of thePublic Prosecutor fell like a knell. The condemned man, however, had notstirred, had not even seemed to understand: his attitude was that of aman in a state of somnambulism. The Public Prosecutor was surprised bythis strange impassivity and spoke again, in strangled tones.

  "Be brave! Be brave!"

  A spasm crossed the face of the condemned man, and his lips moved asthough he were making an effort to say something.

  "I'm not----" he murmured.

  But Deibler laid his hands upon the man's shoulders and cut the horridmoment short.

  "Come now!"

  The chaplain came forward in his turn.

  "Pray, my brother," he said; "do you wish to hear mass?"

  At the touch of the executioner the prisoner had trembled; he rose, likean automaton, with dilated eyes and twitching face. He understood whatthe chaplain said and took a step towards him.

  "I--not----"

  M. Havard intervened, and spoke to the chaplain.

  "Really, sir, no: it is time."

  Deibler nodded approval.

  "Let us be quick; we can proceed; the sun has risen."

  The Public Prosecutor was still bleating "Be brave! Be brave!"

  Deibler took the man by one arm, a warder took him by the other, andbetween them they half-carried him to the office for his last toilette.In the little room, dimly lighted by a winking lamp, a chair had beenset close to a table. The executioner and his assistant pushed thecondemned man into the chair, and Deibler took up a pair of scissors.

  The Public Prosecutor spoke to the prisoner.

  "Would you like a glass of rum? Would you like a cigarette? Is thereanything you wish to have done?"

  Maitre Barberoux, who had not arrived in time for the awakening of theprisoner, now approached his client; he, too, was ghastly white.

  "Is there anything else that I can do for you? Have you any last wish?"

  The condemned man made another effort to rise from the chair, and ahoarse groan escaped from his throat.

  "I--I----"

  The prison doctor had joined the group, and now drew the PublicProsecutor's deputy aside.

  "It is appalling!" he said. "The man has not articulated a single wordsince he was awakened. He is as though sunk in a stupefied sleep. Thereis a technical word for his condition: he is in a state of inhibition.He is alive, and yet he is a corpse. Anyhow he is utterly unconscious,incapable of any clear thought, or of saying a word that has any sense.I have never seen such complete stupefaction."

  Deibler waved aside the men who were pressing round him.

  "Sign the gaol book, please, M. Havard," he said, and while thatgentleman affixed a shaky signature to the warrant authorising thedelivery of Gurn to the public executioner, Deibler took the scissorsand cut a segment out of the prisoner's shirt and cut off a wisp of hairthat grew low down on his neck. Meanwhile an assistant bound the wristsof the man who was about to die. Then the executioner looked at hiswatch and made a half-bow to the Public Prosecutor.

  "Come! Come! It is the time fixed by law!"

  Two assistants took the wretch by the shoulders and raised him up. Therewas a horrible, deep, unintelligible rattle in his throat.

  "I--I----"

  But no one heard him, and he was dragged away. It was practically acorpse that the servants of the guillotine bore down to the boulevardArago.

  * * * * *

  Outside, the first rosy tints of early dawn were waking the birds, andplaying on the great triangular knife, drawing gleams from it. The timewas ten minutes past five. And now the supreme moment was at hand.

  The crowd, momentarily growing denser, was crushed behind the cordon oftroops that had difficulty in keeping it at a distance from theguillotine. The soldiers, unheeding the oaths and curses and entreatieswith which they were assailed, carried out their orders and permitted noone to take up his stand anywhere in the near neighbourhood of theguillotine, except the few rare individuals who had a special pass.

  A sudden murmur ran through the crowd. The mounted police, stationedopposite the guillotine, had just drawn their sabres. Fandor grippedJuve's hand nervously. The detective was very pale.

  "Let us get over there," he said, and led Fandor just behind theguillotine, to the side where the severed head would fall into thebasket. "We shall see the poor devil get out of the carriage, and beingfastened on to the bascule, and pulled into the lunette." He went ontalking as if to divert his own mind from the thing before him. "That'sthe best place for seeing things: I stood there when Peugnez wasguillotined, a long time ago now, and I was there again in 1909 whenDuchemin, the parricide, was executed."

  But he came to an abrupt stop. From the great door of the Sante prison acarriage came rapidly out. All heads were uncovered, all eyes werefixed, and a deep silence fell upon the crowded boulevard.

  The carriage passed the journalist and the detective at a gallop andpulled up with a jerk just opposite them, on the other side of theguillotine, and at the very foot of the scaffold. M. Deibler jumped downfrom the box, and opening the door at the back of the vehicle let downthe steps. Pale and nervous, the chaplain got out backwards, hiding thescaffold from the eyes of the condemned man, whom the assistants managedsomehow to help out of the carriage.

  Fandor was shaking with nervousness and muttering to himself.

  But things moved quickly now.

  The chaplain, still walking backwards, hid the dread vision for yet afew seconds more, then stepped aside abruptly. The assistants seized thecondemned man, and pushed him on to the bascule.

  Juve was watching the unhappy wretch, and could not restrain a word ofadmiration.

  "That man is a brave man! He has not even turned pale! Generallycondemned men are livid!"

  The executioner's assistants had bound the man upon the plank; it tiltedupwards. Deibler grasped the head by the two ears and pulled it into thelunette, despite one last convulsive struggle of the victim.

  There wa
s a click of a spring, the flash of the falling knife, a spurtof blood, a dull groan from ten thousand breasts, and the head rolledinto the basket!

  But Juve had flung Fandor aside and sprang towards the scaffold. Hethrust the assistants away, and plunging his hands into the bran thatwas all soaked with blood, he seized the severed head by the hair andstared at it.

  Horrified by this scandalous action the assistants rushed upon thedetective.

  Deibler forced him backwards.

  "You must be mad!"

  "Get away!"

  Fandor saw that Juve was staggering and seemed about to swoon. He rushedtowards him.

  "Good God!" he cried in tones of anguish.

  "It isn't Gurn who has just been put to death!" Juve panted brokenly."This face has not gone white because it is painted! It is made up--likean actor's! Oh, curses on him! Fantomas has escaped! Fantomas has gotaway! He has had some innocent man executed in his stead! I tell youFantomas is alive!"

  +--------------------------------------------------------------+ | Transcriber's Notes | | | | Page 25: comma added after "why" ("Why, the park enclosure | | has been altered") | | Page 136: taper amended to tapered ("long, tapered fingers") | | Page 265: Treteau _sic_ | | | | Accents have been standardised. | | | | Hyphenation has generally been standardized. However, when | | a word appears hyphenated and unhyphenated an equal number | | of times, both versions have been retained | | (maidservants/maid-servants). | +--------------------------------------------------------------+