iend, Captain Brocq, and we."...

Just then, the harsh sarcastic tones of de Loubersac broke in afresh:

"In conclusion," exclaimed the lieutenant, "I maintain that Fantomas
is an invention, a more or less original one, I am ready to admit, but
an invention of not the least practical interest. Just an invention of
the detectives, this Fantomas; or, it may be of the journalists only,
who have made the gaping public swallow this hocus-pocus pill--this
enormous pill!" The lieutenant stared at Fandor defiantly. "And let me
add, I speak from knowledge, for, up to a certain point, I know all
these individuals!"

Fandor was not in the least impressed by the lieutenant's aggressive
declarations. He regarded him calmly--there was a touch of irony in
his gaze: at the same time, he did not clearly understand de
Loubersac's last phrase.

The excellent Monsieur de Naarboveck murmured in his ear:

"De Loubersac, you know, has to do with the Second Bureau at the
Ministry of War: the statistics department."...

* * * * *

It was only at half past eleven that Fandor had been able to tear
himself away from the de Naarboveck house.

Fandor wandered on the boulevards a long time before he returned to
his flat.

On his table, near his portmanteau ready strapped for departure, he
found the Railway Guide lying open at the page showing the lines from
Paris to the Cote d'Azur! He would not look at the seductive
time-table. He rushed to his portmanteau, undid the straps in furious
haste, dragged out his clothes, which he flung to the four quarters of
the room. For the moment he was in a towering rage.

"And now, confound it! That Brocq affair is not clear! It's no use my
trying to persuade myself to the contrary! There is some mystery about
it! Those officers! This diplomat! And then this questionable person,
neither servant, nor lady accustomed to good society, who has to me
all the appearance of playing not merely a double role, but at the
least a triple, perhaps a quadruple!... Good old Fandor, there's
nothing for it, if you want to go South, but to see friend Juve and
get some light on it all."

Having come to this conclusion, Fandor went to bed. He could not
sleep. There was one word which ceaselessly formed itself in luminous
letters before his mind's eye--a word he dare not articulate. It was a
synthetic word which brought into a collected whole facts and ideas;
it was the summing up of his pre