“What do you mean?” demanded Lady Beltham, “have you not, many times over, tried to kill me? Remember, Fantômas, the evening of the Pré Catalan
!”
“You were there, madam, and I knew it; but recollect how, by an accident contrived by me, your car could not be started, a circumstance which saved you from the accident in the lake.”
“Say rather,” protested Lady Beltham, shuddering, “that hitch, that breakdown, seemingly providential, enabled you to start back alone and unhindered with the Princess Sonia Danidoff.”
Fantômas shrugged as he avowed with a cynical grin:
“Little I cared for her love, it was her jewels I was after; you see I have nothing to hide from you!”
“Scoundrel! ruffian!” screamed Lady Beltham, “so that is the alternative you offer me—to find my satisfaction in your thievish instincts to appease the horrid jealousy that stabs my heart. No, it must end, Fantômas, a life like this is become impossible, you must make your choice; choose betwixt us two, the princess and me. I do not mince my words: I bid you think of the consequences!”
A flash of rage flamed in Fantômas’ eye, but to-day the pirate, the outlaw had clearly no chance left to show himself, as usual, the master, the tyrant, the despot, who commands, and all men obey! He must condescend to parley, and in a choked voice he muttered:
“Let us leave that for the moment, Lady Beltham, let us leave it; more serious events are brewing, are imminent!”
The great lady laughed sardonically.