A Royal Prisoner   By: Marcel Allain (1885-1969)

A ROYAL PRISONER

BY

PIERRE SOUVESTRE AND MARCEL ALLAIN

NEW YORK BRENTANO'S 1918

COPYRIGHT, 1918, BY BRENTANO'S

CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGE

I. A ROYAL JAG 3

II. MOTHER CITRON'S TENANTS 12

III. THE TRAGEDY OF THE RUE DE MONCEAU 21

IV. WHO DO THEY THINK I AM? 33

V. BY THE SINGING FOUNTAINS 42

VI. THE INVESTIGATION BEGINS 49

VII. THE KING RECEIVES 63

VIII. MARIE PASCAL 69

IX. A PARTY OF THREE 76

X. WULFENMIMENGLASCHK 86

XI. ONE HUNDRED AND TWENTY SEVEN STATIONS 98

XII. CAMOUFLAGE 110

XIII. THE KINGDOM OF HESSE WEIMAR 118

XIV. QUEEN HEDWIGE RECEIVES 127

XV. THE MYSTERIOUS PRISON 137

XVI. THE THEFT OF THE DIAMOND 146

XVII. ON THE RIGHT TRAIL 155

XVIII. A SLEEPER 165

XIX. FREE! 174

XX. FREDERICK CHRISTIAN 180

XXI. HORRIBLE CERTAINTY 190

XXII. BETWEEN US THREE FANTÔMAS! 195

XXIII. OFFICIAL OPINIONS 210

XXIV. JUVE'S LIES 218

XXV. "I WANT TO LIVE!" 224

XXVI. THE ACCUSING WAISTCOAT 227

XXVII. THE EXPLOSION OF THE NORD SUD 234

XXVIII. INNOCENT OR GUILTY? 243

XXIX. COMPROMISING DISCOVERIES 250

XXX. SHADOWED 256

XXXI. THE DEATH WATCH 264

XXXII. THE ARREST OF FANTÔMAS 270

A ROYAL PRISONER

CHAPTER I

A ROYAL JAG

"After all, why not celebrate? It's the last day of the year and it won't come again for twelve months."

It was close upon midnight.

Jerome Fandor, reporter on the popular newspaper, La Capitale , was strolling along the boulevard; he had just come from a banquet, one of those official and deadly affairs at which the guests are obliged to listen to interminable speeches. He had drowsed through the evening and at the first opportunity had managed to slip away quickly.

The theatres were just out and the boulevard was crowded with people intent on making a night of it. Numberless automobiles containing the fashionable and rich of Paris blocked the streets. The restaurants were brilliantly illuminated, and as carriages discharged their occupants before the doors, one glimpsed the neat feet and ankles of daintily clad women as they crossed the sidewalk and disappeared inside, following their silk hatted escorts, conscious of their own importance.

Many years of active service in Paris as chief reporter of La Capitale had brought Jerome Fandor in touch with a good third of those who constitute Parisian society, and rarely did he fail to exchange a nod, a smile, or half a dozen words of friendly greeting whenever he set foot out of doors.

But in spite of his popularity he led a lonely life many acquaintances, but few close friends. The great exception was Juve, the celebrated detective.

In fact, Fandor's complex and adventurous life was very much bound up with that of the police officer, for they had worked together in solving the mystery of many tragic crimes.

On this particular evening, the reporter became gradually imbued with the general spirit of gaiety and abandon which surrounded him.