e was at its height was
still speaking, calm, mocking.... It was the voice of Juve, saying:

"How exasperating!... These matches are no good at all!... Ah!... this
one has decided to catch!"

In the uncertain light of the match flame Fandor perceived someone
leaning against the wall--it was Trokoff!--Trokoff, who calmly went up
to a table, took a candlestick, and lighted a candle! Throwing himself
into an arm-chair, this Trokoff asked:

"Well now? Why the devil are you got up as Fantomas, my lad?... For a
military prisoner this is not at all correct!"

Could Fandor believe his ears? his eyes?

Trokoff was Juve!

Fandor looked so bewildered that Juve-Trokoff laughed a merry laugh.

"Come now, my Fandor, try to gather your wandering wits together a bit
and answer me!"

"You, Juve!... You are Juve!" gasped Fandor, exhausted in mind, and
body with the emotions he had experienced.

"So it happens," replied Juve: "Well, I see I must speak first as you
do not seem to be in a condition to talk!... Listen, then!...

"I know these Nihilists, who imagine I am their chief, Trokoff--that
is my latest transformation!... I learned this evening that these
imbeciles, believing they had got hold of Fantomas, were summoned here
to-night to pass judgment on the bandit.... I accompanied them as
Trokoff, who had called them together. When we entered, I can assure
you that, bound to your pillar, you made a striking figure of
Fantomas!... You took in even me--for a while! Luckily I noticed your
hands, the only portions of you visible, covered as you were in that
confounded hooded thing they muffled you up in.... You must know that
the pattern of the veins on the hands is absolutely characteristic and
individual; so much so that the anthropometric service in Vienna is
entirely based on this principle!... That is how I recognized you, my
little Fandor. You can imagine that my one idea then was to get rid of
the Nihilists as soon as possible, and liberate you! But, by Jove,
when I returned, you and Naarboveck between you attacked me so
brutally that you nearly did for me! It was a narrow shave! He was
throttling me! Had you fired your revolver at me you would almost
certainly have killed me, and then you would have fallen a victim
yourself to."...

Juve stopped. He questioned Fandor with a look. "De Naarboveck!... De
Naarboveck, who is Fantomas," replied Fandor, who now understood the
situation.

Juve crossed his arms.

"It is a