LONDON AND PARIS
Juve and Henri de Loubersac passed the night on the quay. Daybreak found them marching side by side, keeping their weary watch and ward. De Loubersac had fallen silent; monosyllabic replies to Juve's remarks had given place to no remarks at all. Juve looked at Henri and smiled.
"He has gone to the country of dreams: he sleeps standing."
In brotherly fashion, the policeman guided the young man towards the shelter: settled him in, and left him. He was within call if needed; meanwhile, he could have his sleep out.
Filling his pipe afresh, Juve resumed his walk along the quay. He was uneasy; he was also in a bad humour. Why did Vinson and this priest tarry on the way? Why should Corporal Vinson, bearer of this compromising artillery piece, plant himself at a little hotel in Rouen for the night? Had they been warned and stopped? Juve feared so.
"Evidently these men are acting for Fantômas," said he to himself: "Fantômas must be watching the police: he knows them, but they do not know him.... Suppose he knows of our arrival at Dieppe?... Suppose the two traitors, being warned, have given our men the slip on the way? Suppose this stop at Rouen was caused by the telegram they received at the garage?... If our arrival here has been signalled, our watch will be fruitless: neither Vinson nor the priest will show themselves on this quay!"
As he kept his tireless vigil. Juve eyed the yacht swinging gently on the rising tide. Could he find a pretext which would take him aboard—justify a thorough investigation of boat and crew?... The answer to more than one tormenting problem might lie hidden there!
Then Juve recalled his talk with de Loubersac. Had he been happily inspired to speak so to him of the girl he loved, the enigmatic Wilhelmine? Suppose de Loubersac, instead of questioning her, broke with her?
"It would be abominable of me to spoil this child's love affair for what are less than suspicions on my part—only the vaguest hypothesis!"
Juve smoked and ruminated as he paced the lonely quay.