Fantômas: 5 Book Collection. Marcel Allain

began to be irritated by all this chatter.

      "I must confess I'm not the least interested in what people are saying about me. Is there anything new in my case?"

      "Absolutely nothing that I am aware of," Roger de Seras replied serenely, without stopping to think whether there was or not. "I say — Lady Beltham —— "

      "Yes?" said Gurn.

      "Well, I know her very well, you know: I go out a frightful lot and I have often met her: a charming woman, Lady Beltham!"

      Gurn really did not know how to treat the idiot. Never one to suffer fools gladly, he grew irritable and would almost certainly have said something that would have put the garrulous young bungler in his place, had not the latter suddenly remembered something, just as he was on the point of getting up to go.

      "Oh, by the way," he said with a laugh, "I was nearly forgetting the most important thing of all. Just fancy, that beast Juve, the marvellous detective whom the newspapers rave about, went to your place yesterday afternoon to make another official search!"

      "Alone?" enquired Gurn, much interested.

      "Quite alone. Now what do you suppose he found; the place has been ransacked dozens of times, you know; of course I mean something sensational in the way of a find. I bet you a thousand —— "

      "I never bet," Gurn snapped. "Tell me at once what it was."

      The young fellow was proud of having caught the attention of his leader's notorious client, if only for a moment; he paused and wagged his head, weighing each word to give them greater emphasis.

      "He found an ordnance map in your bookcase, my dear chap — an ordnance map with a bit torn out of it."

      "Oh! And what then?" said Gurn, a frown upon his face.

      The young barrister did not notice the expression on the murderer's countenance.

      "Well, then it appears that Juve thought it was very important. Between you and me, my opinion is that Juve tries to be frightfully clever and succeeds in looking a fool. How, I ask you, can the discovery of that map affect your case or influence the decision of the jury? By the way, there is no need for you to worry about the result; I have had a frightful lot of experience in criminal cases, and so be assured you are all right: extenuating circumstances, you know. But — oh, yes, there is one thing more I wanted to tell you. A fresh witness is going to be called at the examination; let me see, what's his name? Dollon: that's it: the steward, Dollon."

      "I don't understand," said Gurn; his head was bent and his eyes cast down.

      A glimmer of light dawned in the young licentiate's brain.

      "Wait, there is some connection," he said. "The steward, Dollon, is in the employment of a lady who calls herself the Baronne de Vibray. And the Baronne de Vibray is guardian to the young lady who was staying with Lady Beltham the day, or rather the night, when you — you — well, you know. And that young lady, Mlle. Thérèse Auvernois, was placed with Lady Beltham by M. Etienne Rambert. And M. Etienne Rambert is the father of the young man who murdered the Marquise de Langrune last year. I tell you all these things without attempting to draw any deductions from them, for, for my own part, I haven't the least idea why the steward, Dollon, has been summoned in our case at all."

      "Nor have I," said Gurn, and the frown on his brow was deeper.

      Roger de Seras hunted all round the little room for his gloves and found them in his pocket.

      "Well, my dear chap, I must leave you. We have been chatting for a whole half-hour, and those ladies are still waiting for me. What on earth will they say to me?"

      He was about to ring for the warder when Gurn abruptly stayed him.

      "Tell me," he said with a sudden air of interest, "when is that man coming — what's his name? Dollon?"

      The young barrister was on the point of saying he did not know, when a brilliant recollection came into his mind.

      "'Gad, how frightfully stupid I am! Why, I have a copy of the telegram he sent the magistrate in my portfolio here now." He opened the portfolio and picked out a sheet of blue paper. "Here it is."

      Gurn took it from him and read:

      "Will leave Verrières to-morrow evening by 7.20 train, arriving Paris 5 a.m...."

      Gurn appeared to be sufficiently edified: at all events he paid no attention to the rest of the message. Lord Beltham's murderer handed the document back to the barrister without a word.

      A few minutes later Maître Roger de Seras had rejoined his lady friends, and the prisoner was once more in his cell.

      XXV

       An Unexpected Accomplice

       Table of Contents

      Gurn was walking nervously up and down in his cell after this interview, when the door was pushed open and the cheery face of the warder Nibet looked in.

      "Evening, Gurn," he said; "it's six o'clock, and the restaurant-keeper opposite wants to know if he is to send your dinner in to you."

      "No," Gurn growled. "I'll have the prison ordinary."

      "Oh — ho!" said the warder; "funds low, eh? Of course, it's not for you to despise our dietary, but still, Government beans —— " He came further into the cell, ignoring Gurn's impatient preference for his room to his company, and said in a low tone: "There, take that," and thrust a bank-note into the hand of the dumbfounded prisoner. "And if you want any more, they will be forthcoming," he added. He made a sign to Gurn to say nothing, and went to the door. "I'll be back in a few minutes: I'll just go and order a decent dinner for you."

      Gurn felt as if a tremendous weight had been lifted from him; the cell seemed larger, the prison walls less high; he had an intuition that Lady Beltham was not deserting him. He had never doubted the sincerity of her feelings for him, but he quite realised how a woman in her delicate position might feel embarrassed in trying to intervene in favour of any prisoner, and much more so in the case of the one whom the entire world believed to be the single-handed murderer of her husband. But now Lady Beltham had intervened. She had succeeded in communicating with him through the medium of this warder. And almost certainly she would do much more yet.

      The door opened again, and the warder entered, carrying a long rush basket containing several dishes and a bottle of wine.

      "Well, Gurn, that's a more agreeable sort of dinner, eh?"

      "Gad, I wanted it after all," said the murderer with a smile. "It was a good idea of yours, M. Nibet, to insist on my getting my dinner sent in from outside."

      Nibet winked; he appreciated his prisoner's tact; obviously he was not one to make untimely allusions to the warder's breach of discipline in conveying money to him so simply, but so very irregularly.

      As he ate Gurn chatted with Nibet.

      "I suppose it is you who will get Siegenthal's place?"

      "Yes," said Nibet, sipping the wine Gurn had offered him. "I have asked for the berth no end of times, but it never came; I was always told to wait because the place was not free, and another berth must be found first for Siegenthal, who was my senior. But the old beast would never make any application. However, three days ago, I was sent for to the Ministry, and one of the staff told me that some one in the Embassy, or the Government, or somewhere, was taking an interest in me, and they asked me a lot of questions and I told them all about it. And then, all of a sudden, Siegenthal was promoted to Poissy and I was given his billet here."

      Gurn nodded: he saw light.

      "And what about the money?"

      "That's stranger still, but I understood all the same. A lady met me in the street the other night and spoke to me by name. We had a chat there on the pavement, for the street was empty, and she shoved some bank-notes