ng been seduced by Captain Brocq! Rather, her early experiences
would tend to break down the barriers, behind which nice girls lived
and moved!... There were things that called for an explanation! For
instance, how explain the intimacy existing between de Naarboveck, his
so-called daughter, and this Mademoiselle Berthe, whose part in the
affair engaging de Loubersac's attention was open to the gravest
suspicions?...

Wilhelmine continued what she called her confession, thinking aloud,
opening her heart, confiding in her dear Henri, whose silence she took
for sympathy and encouragement.

"Fantomas," she murmured: "I cannot tell you how often I have thought
over this maddening, this puzzling personality, terrifying beyond
words, who seems implacably bent on our destruction!... Again and
again I have had reason to fear that his ill-omened influence has been
directed against my humble self!... As if he guessed something of
this, the baron has frequently sought to reassure me; yet, through
some singular coincidence, each time we have spoken of Fantomas a
tragedy has occurred, a dreadful tragedy, which has reminded us of
monstrous crimes committed by him in the past!"

Wilhelmine's statements were impressing de Loubersac less and less
favourably.

"Play acting--and clumsy play acting at that!" decided Henri: "Done to
avert my suspicions, imagined to feed my curiosity!... She thinks
herself a capable player at the game! She does not know the person she
is playing with!"

De Loubersac came to a decision. He rose, stood close to Wilhelmine,
who also rose, instinctively, looked her straight in the face, and
asked, point-blank:

"Wilhelmine de Naarboveck, or Therese Auvernois--it matters little to
me--I wish to know the real truth.... Confess, then, that you were
Captain Brocq's mistress!"

"Monsieur!" exclaimed the startled girl. She met de Loubersac's
inquisitorial look proudly.

His penetrating stare did not falter.

Suddenly Wilhelmine's lips began to tremble. She grew deadly pale: she
might have been on the verge of a fainting fit. She had realised the
incredulity of the man to whom, in her chaste innocence, she had given
her heart. In the pure soul of this loving girl an immense void made
itself felt. It was as though a flashlight had revealed to her the
lamentable truth: that the strange position in which destiny had
placed her--a position strange but not infamous--had made of her a
being apart, had put her out