“If Fantômas has accomplices in the prison, I am bound to know them, these same accomplices, they must come in contact with me every day,” thought Juve: “but if I know them, it will be possible for me to detect them and confound their plans. What was the saddest feature of my position was that I was powerless, and could expect the discovery of the truth only from the efforts of others. Now I am going to work for myself, and deep as the mystery may be, I shall clear it up, just because I am so resolved to do so.” Juve was at this point in his reflections when M. Havard entered his cell. At sight of his old Chief the prisoner made a movement of recoil. The Head of the Criminal Bureau pretended not to see this and took a seat on a stool; then he signed to the two warders, who since morning had been permanently stationed in the cell, to withdraw, and when they had shut the door behind them, he began in these terms: “Juve, since this morning, a grave suspicion rests upon you; the wound you have on your arm is a very damning proof of your guilt.” Juve was persuaded that M. Havard was the prime mover in his ruin, so that the friendship and devotion he bore his Chief previously to his imprisonment had been succeeded by something of rancour. “Sir,” he replied, “you think you have been clever enough already to discover many indications of my guilt; I make no doubt you will be ingenious enough to discover many more. What I am afraid of is that you are not clever enough ever to find the proofs of my innocence.” “Juve, you are in error in supposing I nourish any fixed prejudice against you. You know in what esteem I have held you and what friendship I have felt for you? I have deplored more than anybody the combination of circumstances that led to your arrest, and ever since then I have conducted my investigation loyally and without preconceptions. It is highly important in your own interest to answer frankly the questions I am going to ask you about your wound and your illness in the night ... now ...” It was plain from the tone of studied moderation exhibited by M. Havard that the Head of the Criminal Bureau desired but one thing, to throw some light on the mystery that so distressed them both, and that the information M. Chaigniste had given him with regard to the prisoner’s having swallowed a strong dose of hydrate of chloral had very considerably shaken the conviction he at first professed as to Juve’s culpability. It followed that the way he put the questions he had indicated was such as little by little to bring about in the prisoner’s breast a return to feelings of trust and friendliness. Without making any definite confidences to his former Chief, Juve gave the latter a glimpse of the hopes he entertained of succeeding by way of the inside of the prison in unveiling a corner of the mystery.