“What,” he exclaimed, “what is that you say?”
“I say, my good sir,” returned the Ambassador, “that the Princess Sonia has been stripped of all her jewels, all her jewels—do you hear what I say?—rings, bracelets, necklaces, hair ornaments. Some hundreds of thousands of francs gone!”
In his bewilderment Tom Bob could only repeat himself: “But the thing’s past belief; it’s impossible! When did it happen? and how?”
He darted to the princess’s side, while the Ambassador, turning to a young attaché, finished what he was saying for his benefit.
“For my part,” he declared, “I consider the whole catastrophe had but one object—this theft! It must have been done while the princess lay in a faint and Tom Bob had left her to help in saving life. Tom Bob, police-detective as he is, never saw the wood for the trees!”
The attaché nodded: “You are doubtless right, sir; but who can have organized this daring, this audacious plot?”
It was in a hushed voice, almost in a whisper, that the Ambassador made answer:
“Who? Egad! I think there is only one man in all the world ... and you know his name!”
“Fantômas?”
“Yes, Fantômas.”