"Let us make peace!"

Juve held out his hand—a firm, strong hand—the hand of a trusty man.

"Let us make peace frankly, sincerely, wholeheartedly!"

Lieutenant de Loubersac signed the pact, without a moment's hesitation: he put his hand into the hand of Juve, and shook it warmly.

"Agreed, Monsieur: we are of one mind on that point!"

The two men stood silent, considering each other, despite the violence of the west wind sweeping across the end of the stockade, bringing with it enormous foam-tipped waves, rising from a rough, grey sea.

The detective and the officer were on the jetty of Dieppe harbour. This chill December afternoon, the sea looked dark and threatening.

Since their arrival at Dieppe, Juve and de Loubersac had mutually avoided each other. Time and again they had come face to face, each more bored, more cross-looking than the other. This mutual, sulky avoidance was over: they had made it up.

The evening before, following his arrest under the guise of Vagualame, Juve had been conducted to the DÉpÔt by his colleagues. No sooner were they seated in the taxi, under the charge of Inspector Michel and his companion, than Juve made himself known to his gratified, unsuspecting colleagues. It was a humiliating surprise for the two policemen: they felt fooled.

Juve, realising that neither Michel nor his colleagues were at present likely to lend him their generous aid in the carrying out of certain plans, decided to keep silence: nor would he let them into the secret of his discoveries regarding Bobinette's highly suspicious character and conduct: that she was an accomplice, a tool of the real Vagualame was established beyond a doubt.

The crestfallen Michel had to unhandcuff Juve and restore him to liberty; but he extracted a promise from his amazing colleague that he would see Monsieur Havard next morning, and give him an account of all that had passed.

Accordingly, at seven o'clock next morning, Juve was received by Monsieur Havard.

Juve had hoped for a few minutes' interview, then a rush to the East Station, there to await the arrival of Corporal Vinson. The interview was a long one: Juve was too late.

But he had not lost time at Headquarters. The Second Bureau had telephoned, warning Police Headquarters that Corporal Vinson, arrived in Paris, was going to Dieppe very shortly, where a foreign pleasure-boat would take possession of a piece of artillery, stolen, and probably being taken care of by the corporal.

This information coincided with what Juve had learned from Bobinette, and completed it. He must start for Dieppe instanter. If he had any luck he would arrest the soldier, and Bobinette as well. She would convey the piece to Vinson in the morning, and would accompany him to Dieppe. She was daring enough to do it.

At the Saint Lazare station Juve had caught the train for Dieppe which meets the one o'clock boat, bound for England. He had just settled himself in a first-class compartment, of which he was the solitary occupant, when he recognised an officer of the Second Bureau walking in the corridor—Lieutenant Henri de Loubersac!

The train was barely in motion when de Loubersac seated himself opposite Juve. The recognition had been mutual.

A few hours before, Henri de Loubersac had learned of the extraordinary arrest of the false Vagualame. He then understood that it was with Juve he had talked on the quay near the rue de SolfÉrino. The officer of the Second Bureau was profoundly mortified: he had been taken in by a civilian!

He declared:

"It is the sort of thing one does not do! It is unworthy of an honourable man!"

In the Batignolles tunnel Juve and he began discussing this point: de Loubersac angry, excited; Juve immovably calm.

The discussion lasted until their train ran into Dieppe station. They had exhausted the subject, but had scarcely touched on the motives of their journey to this seaport. The two men separated with a stiff salute.

Obviously both were keeping a watch on the approaches to the quay: they encountered each other repeatedly; it became ridiculous. Being intelligent men devoted to their duty, they determined to act in concert for the better fulfillment of this same duty—duty to their respective chiefs—duty to the State—duty to France!

So they made it up!

After their cordial handshake, Juve, wishing to define the situation, asked:

"Now what are we after exactly—you and I? What is the common aim of the Second Bureau and Police Headquarters?"

De Loubersac's reply was:

"A document has been stolen from us: we want to find it."

Juve said:

"Two crimes have been committed: we wish to seize the assassin."

"And," continued de Loubersac, with a smile, "as it is probable the murderer of Captain Brocq and Nichoune is none other than the individual who stole our document."...

"By uniting our efforts," finished Juve, "we have every chance of discovering the one and the other."

There was a pause. Then Juve asked:

"Nevertheless, Lieutenant, since I find you here, I fancy there is some side development—some incident?... In reality, have you not come to Dieppe to intercept a certain corporal who is to deliver to a foreign power a piece of artillery of the highest importance?"

"You have hit it!" was de Loubersac's reply. "I see you know about this gun affair!"

Juve nodded.

The two men were slowly returning towards the town by way of the outer harbour quays. They approached a dock, in which was anchored a pretty little yacht flying the Dutch flag. Juve stared hard at this elegant craft. De Loubersac enquired if yachting was his favourite sport. Juve smiled.

"Far from it! Nevertheless, when that yacht weighs anchor, it would be my delight to inspect her from stem to stern, accompanied by the Custom House officials. It is my conviction that Corporal Vinson will soon turn up, slip aboard with the stolen gun-piece, conceal it in some prepared hiding-hole below: his otherwise uninteresting person will be hidden also."

"I am of the same mind," declared de Loubersac.

As the two men strolled they exchanged information.

De Loubersac told Juve that, according to the latest messages from the Second Bureau, Vinson had left Paris with a priest, in a hired motor-car, and had taken the road to Rouen, that in all probability they would reach Dieppe before nightfall, and when they arrived!...

"It is precisely at that moment we shall arrest them. I have made all arrangements with the local police," finished de Loubersac.

"Ah!" murmured Juve. "What a pity Captain Loreuil and Inspector Michel came on the scenes last night and arrested me prematurely, thinking they had got the real Vagualame, for now I can never make use of the ruffian's disguise to pump the different members of the great spy organisation we are on the track of!"

"But what prevents you now from masquerading as Vagualame?" demanded de Loubersac.

"Why, when no one knew I was a false Vagualame, I could make up in his likeness: now they know the truth; not only is it known by the followers of Vagualame by this time, but—I am certain of it—I was recognised by the real Vagualame himself!"

"Did he see you then?"

"I would stake my life on it!" asserted Juve.

"Just when?... Where?... In the street?" de Loubersac was keenly interested.

"No—just when I was arrested."

"But, from what I have heard, there were very few of you!" cried de Loubersac. "Then the real Vagualame must have been at the Baron de Naarboveck's?"

"Hah!" was Juve's non-committal exclamation.

"Whom do you suspect?"

Juve kept silence.

Suddenly he concealed himself behind a deserted goods waggon. De Loubersac did the same. Both fixed examining eyes on a couple coming in their direction. They were not the expected pair of traitors.

"Who?" again asked de Loubersac.

Juve was impenetrable.

"I am inclined to think that the companion, Mademoiselle Berthe, otherwise Bobinette, has played, and perhaps still plays, an incomprehensible part in these affairs."

"You find it incomprehensible?" Juve burst into laughter. "I do not!"

"Well then, were I in your place, I should not hesitate to arrest her!"

"And then?"

"Oh, explanations could follow."

Juve considered his companion a minute: then, taking his arm in friendly fashion, continued their walk along the quay.

"I have a theory," said Juve; "that when dealing with such complex affairs as these we are now engaged on, affairs in which the actors are but puppets, acting on behalf of the prime mover, a master-mind, ungetatable, or almost so, we should aim at first securing the prime mover. To secure the puppets and leave the prime mover free is to obtain but a partial success: the victory is then more apparent than real.... I might have arrested Bobinette as we shall probably arrest Corporal Vinson before long; but would her arrest furnish us with the master key to this problem? Have we not a better chance of discovering the powerful head of this band if we allow his collaborators to perform their manoeuvres in a fancied security?"

The prime mover of these mysteries? Juve was convinced that the prime mover of these nefarious mysteries, the murderous master mind was, and could be, none other than—FantÔmas!

Juve paused abruptly.

A man was coming to meet them—an investigating agent attached to the general commissariat department at Dieppe.

"They are asking for Monsieur Henri on the telephone," he announced.

De Loubersac rushed to the police station. Over the telephone, a War Office colleague informed him that the fugitive corporal, accompanied by a priest, had during the last hour arrived at a garage in Rouen.

Meanwhile Juve had received a cypher telegram at the police station, confirming the news, with the addition that, after replenishing the motor with petrol, they had set off again at once—they had received a telegram.

Juve and de Loubersac returned to the quay.

"Our beauties will not be so long now," said he.

With twilight the tempest had died down, night was falling fast. The waters in the docks reflected the light from the quay lamps on their shining, heaving, surface.

Now, for some time, Henri de Loubersac had been longing to ask Juve a question, longing yet fearing to voice it—a question relating to his personal affairs. Had not Juve, as Vagualame, clearly insinuated that Wilhelmine de Naarboveck must have been the mistress of Captain Brocq? Had not de Loubersac protested vehemently against such an odious calumny? But now that he knew this statement was Juve's, he was in a state of torment—his love was bleeding with the torture of it!

At last he summoned up courage to put the question to Juve.

Juve frowned, looked embarrassed. He had foreseen the question. He did not believe that Wilhelmine de Naarboveck had been Captain Brocq's mistress; but he knew there was an undecipherable mystery in this girl's life, and he had an intuition that the discovery of this secret would probably throw light on certain points which, as far as he was concerned, had remained obscure. Was this fair-haired girl really the baron's daughter? Since he had learned that Wilhelmine visited Lady Beltham's tomb regularly—this notorious Lady Beltham, mistress of FantÔmas—he had been saying to himself:

"No—Mademoiselle Wilhelmine is not the daughter of de Naarboveck, the rich diplomat! But who, then, is she?"

Juve knew it was useless to say this to de Loubersac, blinded by love as he was; but his aim—a rather Machiavellian one—was to sow seeds of suspicion in the heart of this lover, which would drive him to provoke an explanation, and force Wilhelmine to speak out, for she must surely know the facts relating to her identity!

This Machiavellian Juve did not hesitate to say to de Loubersac:

"You remember what the false Vagualame told you when you talked with him on the banks of the Seine?... You are to-day in the presence of this false Vagualame—of me, Juve—as you know.... Well, I am sorry to tell you that, whatever outside appearance I adopt, my way of thinking, my way of seeing things seldom changes."

Henri de Loubersac understood: he grew pale: his lips were pressed tightly together: he clenched his fists.

Satisfied with this result, Juve repeated to himself this celebrated aphorism of the Bastille:

"Slander! Slander! Some of it always sticks!"

It was dark. In a little restaurant near by, the two men dined frugally: it was a mediocre repast, not too well cooked. Anxious questionings tormented them. The fugitives were long in coming: had they got wind of what was afoot? Had Vinson and the priest been warned that detectives were hot on their trail? If so, it was all up with the arrest!

De Loubersac remained on the watch. Juve returned to the police station. He was crossing the threshold when the telephone shrilled. News from the police sergeant at Rouen!

The corporal and the abbÉ, leaving Rouen, had taken the road to Barentin, had dined at The Flowery Crossways Hotel, and, according to the chauffeur's statement, they would pass the night there: they would reach Dieppe next morning at the earliest possible moment.

Juve hurried with the news to de Loubersac. After a short consultation they separated: each pretended he was going to his own particular hotel to get some rest.

Juve did not quit the neighbourhood of the quay. Installed in a custom house official's sentry box, he stolidly set himself to pass the night with only his thoughts for company. An hour passed. Juve cocked a listening ear; there were furtive footsteps—stealthy movements close by!... Juve thrilled!... If it were the traitor Vinson? The steps came nearer, nearer. Juve slipped out of his shelter. Someone rose up before him—and ... mutual recognition, and laughter!

De Loubersac was on the watch as well!

Jovially, Juve summed up the situation:

"Lieutenant, we can truly declare that, civilian or soldier, in pursuit of our duty we are ever on a war footing!"

Philosophically resigned to a wakeful night, the pair marched stolidly, persistently, doggedly up and down the Dieppe quay—up and down—up and down—an interminable up-and-down!