Messengers of Evil: Being a Further Account of the Lures and Devices of FantômasSouvestre, Pierre
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Messengers of Evil: Being a Further Account of the Lures and Devices of Fantômas
Souvestre, Pierre
Detective and mystery stories; Fantômas (Fictitious character) -- Fiction
"You did what I told you?"
"Yes, master."
"You were able to pour out the narcotic?"
"Yes, master."
"And then?"
"What do you mean by then?"
"Have you carried out all my orders ... the last?"
"Yes, it is all right!... I went into her room and blew out the lamp."
"Good! Now for it!..."
A slight brushing sound, along the low stone wall of the garden, was
barely perceptible to a listening ear. The wall was topped by railings,
and the gate had sheets of iron fastened to it. In a twinkling, the
stranger leaped down beside Jules.
"It's child's play to vault that gate," he said.
By the uncertain light of the stars, Jules could see the individual who
had just joined him. His appearance was fantastic, and the wretched
Jules started and trembled in every limb. The stranger, who had thus
invaded Madame Bourrat's domain, who a short while before had been
wearing a long cloak and immense sombrero, wore them no longer. Probably
he had rid himself of them by casting them among the bramble bushes on
the waste ground around rue Docteur Blanche.... Now he was clad in a
long black knitted garment moulded tightly to his figure, a sinister
garment, by means of which the wearer can blend with the darkness so as
to be almost indistinguishable. His face was entirely concealed by a
long black hood, a movable mask, which prevented his features being
seen: through two slits gleamed two eyeballs: they might have burned a
way through like glowing coals.
"Master!... Master!" murmured Jules. "What are you going to do now?"
This spectral figure replied in a low tone:
"Fool!... go on in front--or no--better follow me! And not a sound--it's
as much as your skin is worth!... Take care--great care!"
The two men advanced in silence. But, while Jules seemed to take
exaggerated precautions to prevent being heard, his companion seemed
naturally shod with silence.
He advanced noiselessly, almost invisible in his black garment.
The two accomplices were soon at the front-door steps of the house.
"Open," commanded the master.
Jules slipped a key into the lock: noiselessly the door turned on its
hinges.
"Listen," whispered the cloaked man. "Half-way up the stairs, you must
stop: I do not wish you to go right up...."
"But..."
"Do as I say! You must keep watch.... If, by chance, you should hear a
noise, if I were to be taken by surprise, you must go downstairs, making
a great noise and shouting at the top of your voice: 'Stop him!... Stop
him!...' Thus, in the first moment of confusion, everyone will rush
after you, and that will give me time to choose my way of escape."
Jules, whatever his fears, did not dare to question his instructions.
"Very good, master," he breathed. "I'll do as you say."
"I should think you would," scoffed his master, almost inaudibly.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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