And so saying, while M. Landais sprang to his instrument and began to ring up the Exchange again with frantic energy, the officer took himself off. Hardly was the door closed behind him before the manservant half opened it again cautiously: “Monsieur le Ministre!” “Go away! I’m telephoning.... Hello! Hello! put me through to the Palais de Justice.” “Monsieur le Ministre!” repeated the servant. “What is it, in God’s name!” “It’s a lady crying in the anteroom; she says she _must_ speak to you?” M. Landais looked up: “A lady? what’s her name?” “I did not quite catch her name, sir, but it’s a princess, sir, it seems—the Princess Sonia ...” “Sonia Danidoff?... What does _she_ want now? Show her in.” But at that same moment the room door burst open with startling violence. It was Sonia Danidoff, who, beside herself with excitement, had forced her way, despite the secretaries’ objurgations, into the Minister’s private room. The unhappy woman was holding to her forehead a handkerchief, the muslin and lace of which were dyed red. “Monsieur le Ministre!” cried Sonia, in a voice choked by emotion, “they wouldn’t hear me at the Prefecture! Nobody would listen to a word! Make them do me justice. Look, I have just been the victim of a dreadful assault! The Grand Duchess Alexandra has disfigured me!” Sonia Danidoff was exaggerating. With a tragic gesture she took the handkerchief from her forehead. On the pearly surface of the temple a cut was bleeding. “Madam,” said the Minister, who knew Sonia Danidoff very well, “it is the Commissariat you must apply at!” “No, Monsieur le Ministre! They would not understand at the police office the importance of my wound. If I have come to you, it is to denounce an abominable piece of swindling! The Grand Duchess Alexandra, the organizer of the subscription for Fantômas’ benefit, is Tom Bob’s mistress! And it was on account of jealousy, because Tom Bob is my lover, that she flew at me.” For once the Minister quite forgot the courtesy due to a lady. “The Grand Duchess Alexandra is Tom Bob’s mistress?” he cried. “Why, what fresh complication have we here? And what do you want me to do?” The door opened yet again, and M. Landais’ private secretary came in, a very fashionable young man, very elegantly dressed and immaculately turned out. “Sir,” he informed the Minister quietly, “here is a fresh communication come from the Palais.” “What do they say?” “It was not Juve, it was Tom Bob, who was tied up last night with M. Fuselier.” But Sonia Danidoff, hearing this, broke in, protesting: “Tom Bob tied up? What next! I have this moment run away from him; he was at the Grand Duchess Alexandra’s! he is there now!” “Tom Bob is at the Grand Duchess Alexandra’s?” M. Landais sprang to his feet once more; he clapped both hands to his head and vociferated in tones of desperation: