Part 22 (1/2)
The Beard meanwhile had returned to the tavern and Casimir.
Suddenly, all was activity in the world of carriages and coachmen! The great ball was drawing to its end. Casimir was once more in possession of his motor, and had generously tipped his understudy: thereupon the hooligan had made off as fast as his legs could carry him. Ernestine joined him at the appointed spot: there the two rogues waited.
”Listen!” cried big Ernestine some fifteen minutes later.
She stared in the direction of the boulevard Malesherbes, with neck outstretched and straining eyeb.a.l.l.s. At last, after an agonising wait, she and Mimile saw the carriages driving by. ”Attention!” cried big Ernestine in a sharp whisper ... ”everybody's on the move at last!”
The Beadle and the Beard, hidden in the crowd which thronged the approaches to the Thomery mansion, awaited the departure of Princess Sonia Danidoff: the idea of this rich prey excited them. Then as they stared at the first outflow of departing guests, the two bandits could not but notice that far from looking gay and animated as people do who have danced and supped well, these guests of Thomery showed pale, dejected faces: in fact, they had all the appearance of people under the influence of some tragic emotion.
”They look pretty down in the mouth, don't they?” whispered the Beard in the Beadle's ear.
”That's a fact! You'd think they were returning from a funeral!”
Then a vague rumour began to circulate; confirmation followed, spread insensibly within the Thomery mansion, was pa.s.sed on by the lackeys, spread from the pavements to the avenue. People whispered of incomprehensible things incredible, but which little by little took definite shape. It was said that the Thomery ball had just become the scene of an accident, of a drama, of a robbery, of a crime!... The police, and of the highest grade, had intervened.... The news spread like a train of ignited gunpowder.... Nevertheless, if Thomery's guests were cognisant of the details, they did not take the beggars and pickpockets into their confidence: among the light-fingered gentry conjectures were rife.
The Beadle and the Beard, who tried to catch odds and ends of talk separately, joined each other again, looking crestfallen, discomfited.
The Beadle broke silence, with an oath, adding:
”I am certain we have been done ... someone has got in before us--been too smart for us!”
Beard nodded: he was of the same opinion.
But who then could have had the audacity to plan such an attempt and carry it out, too? Who could have had the same idea as he and his comrades, and to realise it successfully? Whoever it was had proved himself the better man. In spite of himself the bandit, in thought, formulated one word:
Fantomas!
VIII
END OF THE BALL
When Sonia Danidoff entered Thomery's ball-room she made a sensation. It was not far off midnight when she appeared in all her brilliant beauty and dazzling array, leaning on the arm of her host and fiance, who bore his honours proudly. Dancers paused to admire this handsome couple; then the Hungarian band redoubled their efforts, and the whirling, eddying waltz started afresh, more gay, more inspiriting than before.
In a corner opposite the musicians a group of persons were in animated talk: among them Sonia Danidoff, Thomery, and Jerome Fandor. Music was their theme, some admired Wagner and the cla.s.sics, others voted for the moderns, for the sugariest of waltzes, for the romantic, the bizarre.
”For the profane like myself,” declared Thomery, laughing, ”gipsy music has its charms!”
”Oh,” cried Sonia Danidoff, ”you are not going to tell me that such hackneyed things as _The Smile of Spring_ and _The Blush Rose Waltz_ are to your taste!”
Her tone was reproachful, but her smile was charming.
Nanteuil, the fas.h.i.+onable banker, who was fluttering about the Princess, hastened to take her side:
”Come now, Thomery, you would not put your signature to that?”
Jerome Fandor, who had just joined the group, declared:
”For my part, I thoroughly agree with you, my dear Monsieur Thomery!”