norant of the fact that an important document was
stolen from the domicile of this mysteriously murdered man?"

"I know it," admitted Fandor.

"That is not all," continued Dumoulin: "A certain amount of money was
also stolen from this unfortunate officer. Now, Brocq was in the habit
of putting down in his pocket-book the exact sums he possessed
and--mark this well--also entering the numbers of his bank-notes!...
Now, bank-notes have disappeared from his cash drawer. The missing
notes bear the numbers: A 4998; O 4350; U 5108; the very notes found
in your pocket-book!"

There ensued a dreadful silence. Fandor was thunderstruck....
Everything seemed in league against him.... Oh, he was caught like a
mouse in a trap!... These must be the notes that the red-bearded
man--probably one of the Noret brothers--had slipped into his hand!...
Evidently, from the time of his leaving Paris in Corporal Vinson's
uniform, the traitorous gang he meant to expose had known him for what
he was! Without suspecting it, he had been the hunted instead of the
hunter: and this chaser of damaged goods and trumpery wares had been
caught in his trap like a fool!... These unscrupulous wretches had
hatched an abominable plot against him!... Fandor felt that each
instant saw him deeper in the toils! His whole being was invaded by a
terrible anxiety, an immense fear. Who could be so powerful, so
subtle, so formidable as to have made a fool of him in such a fashion,
to have led him into such traps that even Juve himself could do
nothing to save him?

One being, and one only, was capable of such a diabolically clever
performance; and Fandor, who would not believe it some weeks before,
when discussing the question with Juve, had now to accept his
hypothesis as a certainty: his acts caused his unseen personality to
hit you in the eyes! Only one person could pull the strings with such
a demon hand!... Yes, Fandor could no longer doubt that his desperate
plight was due to the terrific, odious, elusive Fantomas!

Our journalist was now in the lowest depths. He attempted to keep calm
and cool, but he had lost grip of himself.... He stammered, he mumbled
confusedly, justifications, excuses, charging the Noret brothers with
having given him those terrible bank-notes.

Dumoulin, on his side, was convinced that his examination had made an
immense step in the right direction. He considered that the
interrogation might well end with a last word, a last sentence