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"Princess!"
"Nadine, what time is it?"
The young Circa.s.sian, with hair as black as ink, souple and slender, rose from her chair and was hastening from the bedroom to ascertain the time when her mistress recalled her:
"Don't go away, Nadine! Stay with me!"
The dusky Circa.s.sian obeyed: she stared with big, astonished eyes into those of her mistress:
"But, Princess, why don't you wish me to go?"
The Princess stammered in a mysterious tone:
"Don't you know then, Nadine, that to-day is the anniversary?... and I am frightened!"
Princess Sonia Danidoff was in her bath robe. It must have been a quarter past eleven, or even nearer midnight than that. Although she had lived in Paris for years, she had never been able to make up her mind to settle in a flat of her own. Possessing an immense fortune, she much preferred the American way of living, and had taken a suite of rooms in one of those great palace-hotels near the place de l'Etoile. Though a very smart staff of servants was reserved for her exclusive use, her favourite attendant was a pretty Circa.s.sian, in whom she had absolute confidence. This Nadine was a native of Southern Russia. The movement of city life and civilised manners and customs had at first terrified this little savage; but she had learned to adapt herself to her changed surroundings, and was now high in the favour of Princess Sonia. She, and she alone, was authorised to be present when the beautiful great lady took her daily baths. For some years past the Princess had insisted on the presence of a maid when she took her baths: without fail they must either be in the bathroom itself, or in the room next to it, within reach or call. But on this particular evening Sonia Danidoff, more nervous and restless than usual, would not allow Nadine to leave her for a second. As to the time--well, if she did not know the exact time it could not be helped! Really it did not matter to her whether she were half an hour or no, for the ball given in her honour by Thomery, the millionaire sugar refiner: in fact, it would be much better to make her appearance after all the guests had a.s.sembled--her arrival would give the crowning touch of brilliancy to this society function.
Sonia Danidoff had p.r.o.nounced the word "anniversary" in a tone of anguish so sincere that Nadine was genuinely alarmed. She knew, only too well, what this fatal word meant to her mistress.
She had not forgotten that five years ago to the day, just when the Princess was enjoying her evening bath, a mysterious individual had appeared before her, who, after frightening her, had robbed her of a large sum of money. The adventure would have been little out of the ordinary, for hotel robberies are frequent, had not the audacious bandit been quickly identified as the enigmatic and elusive Fantomas, whose prodigious reputation had only increased with the pa.s.sage of the years.
Sonia Danidoff, who was not ignorant of the dramatic adventures imputed to this legendary hero, could not bear to think of the position she had been placed in that awful night, when, threatened and robbed by Fantomas, she had escaped death by a series of unknown and unguessable circ.u.mstances: the tormenting mystery of it all had preyed insistently upon her mind. Since then Sonia Danidoff had never taken a bath without thinking of Fantomas; and every year when the anniversary of his aggression came round she suffered cruelly: she was seized with wild, unreasoning fears at the idea that she might see this terrifying bandit appear before her again, and that this time he would be merciless.
Nadine knew all this. She also shuddered at the vision this horrible anniversary evoked, but controlling herself, she was anxious to change the current of her dear mistress's thoughts:
"Forget, try to forget, Sonia Danidoff," she counselled in her melodious voice: "You are going to a ball--at Monsieur Thomery's--at your fiance's house!"
The Princess shuddered:
"Ah, Nadine, my Nadine!" she cried, raising herself, and regarding her maid with a strange look: "I cannot overcome my uneasiness--my alarms!... This coincidence of date agitates me.... You know how superst.i.tious we are at home--in our Russia--and the life I lead in Paris has not destroyed in me the simplicity of soul of a daughter of the Steppes!"
Nadine did not know what reply to make to this pathetic outburst. The Princess went on:
"And then, do you see, I think it wrong of Monsieur Thomery to even want to give this ball, only a fortnight after the tragic death of that poor Baroness de Vibray!... I tried to dissuade him from it.... I think the Baroness was his most intimate friend once!..."
"So it is said," murmured Nadine.
Sonia Danidoff went on, as if speaking to herself:
"I am not sure of it ... it is precisely to remove this suspicion from my mind that Thomery was determined to have his ball to-night at all costs!... The Baroness de Vibray, so he told me, was no more than a good old friend.... I cannot make her death an excuse for putting off the announcement of our marriage ... that would be to give colour to scandal."
Sonia Danidoff shrugged her beautiful shoulders:
"Hand me a mirror!"
Nadine obeyed. The Princess gazed long and complacently at the marvellously lovely face reflected in the gla.s.s.
"Princess," cried Nadine, "you must leave the bath, you will be late otherwise!"
In the adjacent dressing-room, brilliantly illuminated by electric light, the Princess dressed with the aid of Nadine, proud and happy to be the sole a.s.sistant of her beloved mistress. The toilet was a triumph: silk of an exquisite blue, draped with silk muslin incrusted with pointe de Venise and bands of ermine: a costly masterpiece of the dressmaker's art. It enhanced the brilliant beauty of Sonia Danidoff, and threw Nadine into raptures.
The Princess opened her jewel-box:
"This evening, Nadine, I shall be pearls and diamonds!" cried the lovely creature, as she fixed two large grey pearls in her ears.
"Oh, how beautiful you are, Princess! And what a lot they must have cost!" cried Nadine.
"Ten thousand francs, my child, on each side of my head!"
Sonia slipped on her fingers three diamond rings set in platinum:
"And here are eight or nine thousand francs more," continued she, as Nadine's eyes grew round with wonder: her mind could hardly grasp all these thousands of francs-worth of diamonds and pearls. There were still more to come; for, rejecting a magnificent bracelet, on the plea that one no longer wore them at b.a.l.l.s, the Princess smilingly bade her Circa.s.sian fasten round her neck a superb triple collar of pearls. To this was added a sparkling cascade of diamonds. Never had Nadine seen her beautiful mistress so richly dressed. Thus adorned, in Nadine's eyes, Sonia Danidoff was dazzlingly beautiful, exquisitely lovely.
"You look like the Holy Virgin on the icons!" stammered Nadine, kneeling before her mistress, quite overcome by emotion.
"Good Heavens! That is blasphemy! I am only a humble human creature!"
said the Princess smiling. Then she once more looked at herself in the mirrors, well satisfied with her appearance, certain of the effect she would produce on her future husband Thomery. She threw over her shoulders a superb mantle of zibeline which was quite needed, for, though it was the middle of April, it was quite cold.
Then, ready at last, she descended to her motor-car, and was whirled away to the ball.
"Cranajour!... Cranajour!"
Mother Toulouche shouted herself breathless: she tried to shout louder and louder. It was in vain. She might shout herself hoa.r.s.e--there was no reply.
The old termagant, who had left the front of her hovel and had gone to call her a.s.sistant, shouting in the pa.s.sage at the back of the store, returned cursing and swearing, and seated herself near the store in the lean-to which did duty as a kitchen:
"Where in the devil's name has that imbecile got to?" she grumbled, whilst sipping with gusts from the bottom of a cup, into which she had poured a small allowance of coffee and a copious ration of rum. It was about eleven in the evening. There was not a sound to be heard.
Having finished her rum and tea the old receiver of stolen goods went to the entrance of the pa.s.sage:
"Cranajour!... Cranajour!" yelled the old termagant.
There was no answer.
"He can't possibly be in his canteen," said Mother Toulouche to herself.
"If he was he'd have answered, fool though he is, and would have come down!... Sure he's gone to drag his old down-at-heels somewhere--but where?... Oh, well, we can manage to do without him!"
The old receiver went back to her store, and was starting on a queer sort of job when the door, which led on to the quay, burst open before a panting, breathless individual. He ran right up the store and stopped short. Mother Toulouche had seized the first thing she could find, and had taken up a defensive att.i.tude. Her weapon was a great ancient cavalry sabre!
But the newcomer intended no harm--quite the contrary! After an instinctive recoil, he leaned against a table and wiped his forehead, breathing in gasps, incapable of p.r.o.nouncing a syllable.
Mother Toulouche had recognised him:
"Ah! It's you, Redhead!... And not a bit too soon either! I've been waiting for you this last half-hour! Ernestine will be there in ten minutes' time! However is it you are so late?"