At last, after an agonising wait, she and Mimile saw the carriages driving by. “Look out!” cried big Ernestine in a sharp whisper... everybody’s on the move at last!” The Beadle and the Beard, hidden in the crowd which thronged the approaches to the Thomery mansion, awaited the departure of Princess Sonia Danidoff: the idea of this rich prey excited them. Then as they stared at the first outflow of departing guests, the two bandits could not help noticing that far from looking gay and animated as people do who have danced and supped well, these guests of Thomery showed pale, dejected faces: in fact, they had all the appearance of people under the influence of some tragic emotion.“They look pretty down in the mouth, don’t they!” whispered the Beard in the Beadle’s car.

“That’s a fact! You’d think they were returning from a funeral!”

Then a vague rumour began to circulate; confirmation followed, spread insensibly within the Thomery mansion, was passed on by the lackeys, spread from the pavements to the avenue. People whispered of things incomprehensible, things incredible, which little by little took definite shape. It was said that the Thomery ball had just become the scene of an accident, of a drama, of a robbery, of a crime!... The police, and of the highest grade, had intervened... The news spread like a train of ignited gunpowder... Nevertheless, if Thomery’s guests were cognisant of the details, they did not take the beggars and pickpockets into their confidence: among the light-fingered gentry conjectures were rife.

The Beadle and the Beard, who tried to catch odds and ends of talk separately, joined each other again, looking crest-fallen, uneasy. The Beadle broke silence with an oath, adding:“I am certain we have been done... someone has got in before us – been too smart for us...”

Beard nodded: he was of the same opinion.

But who then could have had the audacity to plan such an attempt and carry it out too? Who could have had the same idea as he and his comrades, and have carried it out successfully? Whoever it was had proved himself the better man. In spite of himself the bandit, in thought, formulated one word;

Fantômas!

CHAPTER EIGHT : END OF THE BALL

When Sonia Danidoff entered Thomery’s ballroom she made a sensation. It was not far off midnight when she appeared in all her brilliant beauty and dazzling array, leaning on the arm of her host and fiancé, who bore his honours proudly. Dancers paused to admire this handsome couple; then the Hungarian band redoubled their efforts, and the whirling eddying waltz started afresh, more jaunty, more uplifting than before.