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32 chapters
Translated from the original French by Cranstoun Metcalfe Introduction to the Dover Edition by Robin Walz
Translated from the original French by Cranstoun Metcalfe Introduction to the Dover Edition by Robin Walz
Bibliographical Note This Dover edition, first published in 2006, is an unabridged republication of the work first published by Brentano's Publishers Inc., New York, in 1915. International Standard Book Number: 0-486-44971-8 Manufactured in the United States of America Dover Publications, Inc., 31 East 2nd Street, Mineola, N.Y. 11501...
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I. The Genius of Crime
I. The Genius of Crime
"Fantômas." "What did you say?" "I said: Fantômas." "And what does that mean?" "Nothing.... Everything!" "But what is it?" "Nobody.... And yet, yes, it is somebody!" "And what does the somebody do?" "Spreads terror!" Dinner was just over, and the company were moving into the drawing-room. Hurrying to the fireplace, the Marquise de Langrune took a large log from a basket and flung it on to the glowing embers on the hearth; the log crackled and shed a brilliant light over the whole room; the guest
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II. A Tragic Dawn
II. A Tragic Dawn
As his cab turned by the end of the Pont Royal towards the Gare d'Orsay, M. Etienne Rambert looked at his watch and found, as he had anticipated, that he had a good quarter of an hour before the train that he intended to take was due to start. He called a porter, and gave him the heavy valise and the bundle of rugs that formed the whole of his hand baggage. "Where is the office for forwarding luggage, my man?" he enquired. The porter led him through the famous panelled hall of the Gare d'Orsay,
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III. The Hunt for the Man
III. The Hunt for the Man
M. de Presles, the examining magistrate in charge of the Court at Brives, had just arrived at the château of Beaulieu, having been notified of the tragedy by the police sergeant stationed at Saint-Jaury. The magistrate was a young, fashionable, and rather aristocratic man of the world, whose grievance it was to be tied down to work that was mechanical rather than intellectual. He was essentially modern in his ideas, and his chief ambition was to get away as quickly as possible from the small pro
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IV. "No! I am not Mad!"
IV. "No! I am not Mad!"
The next day but one after the crime, on the Friday, Louise the cook, who was still terribly upset by the dreadful death of the good mistress in whose service she had been for fifteen years, came down to her kitchen early. It was scarcely daybreak, and the good woman was obliged to light a lamp to see by. With her mind anywhere but on her work, she was mechanically getting breakfast for the servants and for the visitors to the château, when a sharp knock on the back door made her jump. She went
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V. "Arrest Me!"
V. "Arrest Me!"
Twelve or thirteen miles from Souillac the main line from Brives to Cahors, which flanks the slope, describes a rather sharp curve. The journey is a particularly picturesque one, and travellers who make it during the daytime have much that is interesting and agreeable to see; but while they are admiring the country, which marks the transition from the severe region of the Limousin to the more laughing landscapes on the confines of the Midi, the train suddenly plunges into a tunnel which runs for
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VI. "Fantômas, it is Death!"
VI. "Fantômas, it is Death!"
Hurrying back towards the château with the sergeant, Juve ran into M. de Presles outside the park gate. The magistrate had just arrived from Brives in a motor-car which he had commandeered for his personal use during the last few days. "Well," said Juve in his quiet, measured tones, "have you heard the news?" And as the magistrate looked at him in surprise he went on: "I gather from your expression that you have not. Well, sir, if you will kindly fill up a warrant we will arrest M. Charles Rambe
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VII. The Criminal Investigation Department
VII. The Criminal Investigation Department
"Does M. Gurn live here, please?" Mme. Doulenques, the concierge at No. 147 rue Lévert, looked at the enquirer and saw a tall, dark man with a heavy moustache, wearing a soft hat and a tightly buttoned overcoat, the collar of which was turned up to his ears. "M. Gurn is away, sir," she answered; "he has been away for some little time." "I know," said the stranger, "but still I want to go up to his rooms if you will kindly go with me." "You want——" the concierge began in surprise and doubt. "Oh,
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VIII. A Dreadful Confession
VIII. A Dreadful Confession
While Juve was devoting his marvellous skill and incomparable daring to the elucidation of the new case with which the Criminal Investigation Department had entrusted him in Paris, things were marching at Beaulieu, where the whole machinery of the law was being set in motion for the discovery and arrest of Charles Rambert. With a mighty clatter and racket Bouzille came down the slope and stopped before old mother Chiquard's cottage. He arrived in his own equipage, and an extraordinary one it was
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IX. All for Honour
IX. All for Honour
Society had mustered in force at the Cahors Law Courts, where the Assizes were about to be held. Hooting motor-cars and antiquated coaches drawn by pursy horses were arriving every minute, bringing gentry from the great houses in the neighbourhood, squireens and well-to-do country people, prosperous farmers and jolly wine-growers, all of them determined not to miss "the trial" that was causing such immense excitement because the principal figure in it was well known as a friend of one of the old
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X. Princess Sonia's Bath
X. Princess Sonia's Bath
Four months had passed since Etienne Rambert had been acquitted at the Cahors Assizes, and the world was beginning to forget the Beaulieu tragedy as it had already almost forgotten the mysterious murder of Lord Beltham. Juve alone did not allow his daily occupation to put the two cases out of his mind. True, he had ceased to make any direct enquiries, and gave no sign that he still had any interest in those crimes; but the detective knew very well that in both of them he had to contend with no o
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XI. Magistrate and Detective
XI. Magistrate and Detective
M. Fuselier was standing in his office in the law courts at Paris, meditatively smoothing the nap of his silk hat. His mind was busy with the enquiries he had been prosecuting during the day, and although he had no reason to be dissatisfied with his day's work he had no clear idea as to what his next steps ought to be. Three discreet taps on the door broke in upon his thoughts. "Come in," he said, and then stepped forward with a hearty welcome as he recognised his visitor. "Juve, by all that is
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XII. A Knock-out Blow
XII. A Knock-out Blow
The staff of the Royal Palace Hotel were just finishing dinner, and the greatest animation prevailed in the vast white-tiled servants' hall. The tone of the conversation varied at different tables, for the servants jealously observed a strict order of precedence among themselves, but the present topic was the same at all, the recent sensational robbery from Mme. Van den Rosen and the Princess Sonia Danidoff. At one table, smaller than the rest, a party of upper servants sat, under-managers or he
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XIII. Thérèse's Future
XIII. Thérèse's Future
M. Etienne Rambert was in the smoking-room of the house which he had purchased a few months previously in the Place Pereire, rue Eugène-Flachat, smoking and chatting with his old friend Barbey, who also was his banker. The two had been discussing investments, and the wealthy merchant had displayed considerable indifference to the banker's recommendation of various gilt-edged securities. "To tell you the truth, my dear fellow," he said at length, "these things interest me very little; I've got us
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XIV. Mademoiselle Jeanne
XIV. Mademoiselle Jeanne
After she had so roughly disposed of the enterprising Henri Verbier, whose most unseemly advances had so greatly scandalised her, Mlle. Jeanne took to her heels, directly she was out of sight of the Royal Palace Hotel, and ran like one possessed. She stood for a moment in the brilliantly lighted, traffic-crowded Avenue Wagram, shaking with excitement and with palpitating heart, and then mechanically hailed a passing cab and told the driver to take her towards the Bois. There she gave another hee
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XV. The Mad Woman's Plot
XV. The Mad Woman's Plot
When Dr. Biron built his famous private asylum in the very heart of Passy, intended, according to his prospectus, to provide a retreat for people suffering from nervous breakdown or from overwork or over-excitement, and to offer hospital treatment to the insane, in order to secure a kind of official sanction for his institution, he took the wise precaution to proclaim from the housetops that he would enlist the services of ex-medical officers of the hospitals. The idea was a shrewd and a success
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XVI. Among the Market Porters
XVI. Among the Market Porters
"Boulevard Rochechouart," said Berthe, the young asylum nurse, to the conductor as she sprang into the tram just as it was starting. It was a September afternoon, one of the last fine days of the now fast-dying summer, and the girl had just got her fortnightly leave for forty-eight hours. She had gone off duty at noon, and now had until noon on the next day but one to resume her own personality and shake off the anxieties that beset all those who are charged with the constant care of the insane,
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XVII. At the Saint-Anthony's Pig
XVII. At the Saint-Anthony's Pig
"Pay for a drink, and I'll listen to you," said Hogshead Geoffroy to his sister. After numerous visits to the many bars and drinking saloons that surround the markets, they had finally gone for a late supper into the Saint-Anthony's Pig, the most popular tavern in the neighbourhood, Geoffroy having reconciled himself to waiting for the result of the examination, which would not be announced until the following day. A new and original attraction had been stationed outside the Saint-Anthony's Pig
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XVIII. A Prisoner and a Witness
XVIII. A Prisoner and a Witness
Juve had spoken in a tone of command that brooked no reply. His keen eyes seemed to pierce through Paul and read his inmost soul. The winking light of the street lamp shed a wan halo round the lad, who obviously wanted to move away from its radius, but Juve held him fast. "Come now, answer! You are Charles Rambert, and you were Mademoiselle Jeanne?" "I don't understand," Paul declared. "Really!" sneered Juve. He hailed a passing cab. "Get in," he ordered briefly, and pushing the lad in before hi
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XIX. Jérôme Fandor
XIX. Jérôme Fandor
Whistling a quick-step, sure sign with him of a light heart, Juve opened the door of the little room where he had left Charles Rambert, and looked at the sleeping lad. "It's a fine thing to be young," he remarked to the man he had left on guard; "that boy plunges into the wildest adventures and shaves the scaffold by an inch, and yet after one late night he sleeps as peacefully as any chancellor of the Legion of Honour!" He shook the lad with a friendly hand. "Get up, lazy-bones! It's ten o'cloc
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XX. A Cup of Tea
XX. A Cup of Tea
After the tragic death of her husband, Lady Beltham—whose previous life had inclined to the austere—withdrew into almost complete retirement. The world of gaiety and fashion knew her no more. But in the world where poverty and suffering reign, in hospital wards and squalid streets, a tall and beautiful woman might often be seen, robed all in black, with distinguished bearing and eyes serene and grave, distributing alms and consolation as she moved. It was Lady Beltham, kind, good and very pitifu
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XXI. Lord Beltham's Murderer
XXI. Lord Beltham's Murderer
It was on the point of midnight, and absolute stillness reigned throughout the house. But Lady Beltham had not gone to bed. Although she had remained in the great hall where she did her work, she had been unable to settle down to any occupation. She had read a little, and begun a letter, got up and sat down; and finally, beginning to feel chilly, she had drawn an easy chair up to the hearth, where a log was just burning out, and stretching out her slippers to the warmth had fallen into a waking
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XXII. The Scrap of Paper
XXII. The Scrap of Paper
It was three o'clock when Juve arrived at the rue Lévert, and he found the concierge of number 147 just finishing her coffee. Amazed at the results achieved by the detective, the details of which she had learned from the sensational articles in the daily paper she most affected, Mme. Doulenques had conceived a most respectful admiration for the Inspector of the Criminal Investigation Department. "That man," she constantly declared to Madame Aurore, "it isn't eyes he has in his head, it's telesco
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XXIII. The Wreck of the "Lancaster"
XXIII. The Wreck of the "Lancaster"
Jérôme Fandor entered the room without a word. Juve closed the door behind him. The boy was very pale and manifestly much upset. "What is the matter?" said Juve. "Something terrible has happened," the boy answered. "I have just heard awful news: my poor father is dead!" "What?" Juve exclaimed sharply. "M. Etienne Rambert dead?" Jérôme Fandor put a newspaper into the detective's hand. "Read that," he said, and pointed to an article on the front page with a huge head-line: " Wreck of the 'Lancaste
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XXIV. Under Lock and Key
XXIV. Under Lock and Key
After the preliminary examination as to his identity and so on, Gurn had been transferred to the Santé prison. At first the prisoner seemed to have terrible difficulty in accustoming himself to the rigours of confinement; he suffered from alternate paroxysms of rage and despair, but by sheer strength of character he fought these down. As a prisoner on remand he was entitled to the privilege of a separate cell, also during the first forty-eight hours he had been able to have his meals sent in fro
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XXV. An Unexpected Accomplice
XXV. An Unexpected Accomplice
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, ig
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XXVI. A Mysterious Crime
XXVI. A Mysterious Crime
Arriving in good time at the little station at Verrières, where he was about to take a train to Paris to keep his appointment at the Law Courts, the old steward Dollon gave his parting instructions to his two children, who had come to see him off. "I must, of course, call upon Mme. de Vibray," he said, "and I don't yet know what time M. Fuselier wants to see me at his office. Anyhow, if I don't come back to-morrow, I will the next day, without fail. Well, little ones, I'm just off now, so say go
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XXVII. Three Surprising Incidents
XXVII. Three Surprising Incidents
Nibet went off duty at five in the morning, and returned to his own home to go to bed. As a general rule he slept like a top, after a night on duty, but on this occasion he could not close an eye, being far too uneasy about the consequences of his co-operation in Gurn's escape. A few minutes before six in the evening he had taken advantage of no warders being about to slip Gurn from cell number 127 into number 129, whence he could make his way to the roof. At six, when he actually came on duty,
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XXVIII. The Court of Assize
XXVIII. The Court of Assize
"Call Lady Beltham!" It was a perfect May day, and everyone who could pretend, on any conceivable ground, to belong to "Paris" had schemed and intrigued to obtain admission to a trial over which public opinion had been excited for months: the trial of Gurn for the murder of Lord Beltham, ex-Ambassador and foremost man of fashion, whose murder, two years before, had caused a great sensation. The preliminary formalities of the trial had furnished nothing to tickle the palates of the sensation-lovi
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XXIX. Verdict and Sentence
XXIX. Verdict and Sentence
Once more a wave of sensation ran through the court. There was not a single person present who had not heard of Juve and his wonderful exploits, or who did not regard him as a kind of hero. All leaned forward to watch him as he followed the usher to the witness-box, wholly unaffected in manner and not seeking to make any capital out of his popularity. Indeed, he seemed rather to be uneasy, almost nervous, as one of the oldest pressmen present remarked audibly. He took the oath, and the President
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XXX. An Assignation
XXX. An Assignation
The final curtain had fallen upon the first performance of the new drama at the Grand Treteau. The night had been one long triumph for Valgrand, and although it was very late the Baronne de Vibray, who plumed herself on being the great tragedian's dearest friend, had made her way behind the scenes to lavish praise and congratulations on him, and have a little triumph of her own in presenting her friends to the hero of the hour. In vain had Charlot, the old dresser, tried to prevent her invasion
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XXXI. Fell Treachery
XXXI. Fell Treachery
Number 22 rue Messier was a wretched one-storeyed house that belonged to a country vine-dresser who seldom came to Paris. It was damp, dirty, and dilapidated, and would have had to be rebuilt from top to bottom if it were to be rendered habitable. There had been a long succession of so-called tenants of this hovel, shady, disreputable people who, for the most part, left without paying any rent, the landlord being only too glad if occasionally they left behind them a little miserable furniture or
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