“Where are the ‘Fantômas’?”

“One of them has just gone.”

“Who? which?”

“The cloak-room attendant recognized him; it was Tom Bob.”

“It seems he was wounded?”

“Yes, the attendant said he had blood on his sleeve; he had actually turned back the sleeve and looked at his arm; there was a long, red gash there.”

“But Tom Bob is no assassin!”

“Ah! but was it really Tom Bob? that is just the question, my dear sir.”

Fandor still lay exhausted in the conservatory, still dazed from the attempt on his life he had only just escaped. But in a moment he sprang up with a start, the Grand Duchess Alexandra, Lady Beltham, stood before him. She looked agitated, she was panting and frightfully pale.

“Fly! fly!” she cried distractedly.