He saw us, and gave a despairing cry I m too late! Rouletabille answered She lives! A minute later Darzac had gone into Mademoiselle Stangersons room and, through the door, we could hear his heartrending sobs. There s a fate about this place! groaned Rouletabille. Some infernal gods must be watching over the misfortunes of this family!If I had not been drugged, I should have saved Mademoiselle Stangerson. I should have silenced him forever. And the keeper would not have been killed! Monsieur Darzac came in to speak with us. His distress was terrible. Rouletabille told him everything his preparations for Mademoiselle Stangersons safety; his plans for either capturing or for disposing of the assailant for ever; and how he would have succeeded had it not been for the drugging. If only you had trusted me! said the young man, in a low tone, if you had but begged Mademoiselle Stangerson to confide in me!But, then, everybody here distrusts everybody else, the daughter distrusts her father, and even her lover. While you ask me to protect her she is doing all she can to frustrate me. That was why I came on the scene too late! At Monsieur Robert Darzacs request Rouletabille described the whole scene. Leaning on the wall, to prevent himself from falling, he had made his way to Mademoiselle Stangersons room, while we were running after the supposed murderer. The anteroom door was open and when he entered he found Mademoiselle Stangerson lying partly thrown over the desk. Her dressinggown was dyed with the blood flowing from her bosom. Still under the influence of the drug, he felt he was walking in a horrible nightmare. He went back to the gallery automatically, opened a window, shouted his order to fire, and then returned to the room. He crossed the deserted boudoir, entered the drawingroom, and tried to rouse Monsieur Stangerson who was lying on a sofa. Monsieur Stangerson rose stupidly and let himself be drawn by Rouletabille into the room where, on seeing his daughters body, he uttered a heartrending cry. Both united their feeble strength and carried her to her bed. On his way to rejoin us Rouletabille passed by the desk. On the floor, near it, he saw a large packet. He knelt down and, finding the wrapper loose, he examined it, and made out an enormous quantity of papers and photographs. On one of the papers he read New differential electroscopic condenser. Fundamental properties of substance intermediary between ponderable matter and imponderable ether. Strange irony of fate that the professors precious papers should be restored to him at the very time when an attempt was being made to deprive him of his daughters life! What are papers worth to him now? The morning following that awful night saw Monsieur de Marquet once more at the chteau, with his Registrar and gendarmes. Of course we were all questioned. Rouletabille and I had already agreed on what to say. I kept back any information as to my being in the dark closet and said nothing about the drugging. We did not wish to suggest in any way that Mademoiselle Stangerson had been expecting her nocturnal visitor. The poor woman might, perhaps, never recover, and it was none of our business to lift the veil of a secret the preservation of which she had paid for so dearly. Arthur Rance told everybody, in a manner so natural that it astonished me, that he had last seen the keeper towards eleven oclock of that fatal night. He had come for his valise he said, which he was to take for him early next morning to the SaintMichel station; and had been kept out late running after poachers. Arthur Rance had, indeed, intended to leave the chteau and, according to his habit, to walk to the station. Monsieur Stangerson confirmed what Rance had said, adding that he had not asked Rance to dine with him because his friend had taken his final leave of them both earlier in the evening. Monsieur Rance had had tea served him in his room, because he had complained of a slight indisposition. Bernier testified, instructed by Rouletabille, that the keeper had ordered him to meet at a spot near the oak grove, for the purpose of looking out for poachers. Finding that the keeper did not keep his appointment, he, Bernier, had gone in search of him. He had almost arrived at the donjon, when he saw a figure running swiftly in a direction opposite to him, towards the right wing of the chteau. He heard revolver shots from behind the figure and saw Rouletabille at one of the gallery windows. He heard Rouletabille call out to him to fire, and he had fired. He believed he had killed the man until he learned, after Rouletabille had uncovered the body, that the man had died from a knife thrust. Who had given it he could not imagine. Nobody could have been near the spot without my seeing him. When the examining magistrate reminded him that the spot where the body was found was very dark and that he himself had not been able to recognise the keeper before firing, Daddy Bernier replied that neither had they seen the other body; nor had they found it. In the narrow court where five people were standing it would have been strange if the other body, had it been there, could have escaped. The only door that opened into the court was that of the keepers room, and that door was closed, and the key of it was found in the keepers pocket. However that might be, the examining magistrate did not pursue his inquiry further in this direction. He was evidently convinced that we had missed the man we were chasing and we had come upon the keepers body in our chase. This matter of the keeper was another matter entirely. He wanted to satisfy himself about that without any further delay. Probably it chimed in with the conclusions he had already arrived at as to the keeper and his intrigues with the wife of Mathieu the landlord of the Donjon Inn. This Mathieu, later in the afternoon, was arrested and taken to Corbeil in spite of his rheumatism. He had been heard to threaten the keeper, and though no evidence against him had been found at his inn, the evidence of carters who had heard the threats was enough to justify his retention. The examination had proceeded thus far when, to our surprise, Frdric Larsan returned to the chteau. He was accompanied by one of the employs of the railway. At that moment Rance and I were in the vestibule discussing Mathieus guilt or innocence, while Rouletabille stood apart buried, apparently, in thought. The examining magistrate and his Registrar were in the little green drawingroom, while Darzac was with the doctor and Stangerson in the ladys chamber. As Frdric Larsan entered the vestibule with the railway employ, Rouletabille and I at once recognised him by the small blond beard. We exchanged meaning glances. Larsan had himself announced to the examining magistrate by the gendarme and entered with the railway servant as Daddy Jacques came out. Some ten minutes went by during which Rouletabille appeared extremely impatient. The door of the drawingroom was then opened and we heard the magistrate calling to the gendarme who entered. Presently he came out, mounted the stairs and, coming back shortly, went in to the magistrate and said Monsieur,Monsieur Robert Darzac will not come! What! Not come! cried Monsieur de Marquet. He says he cannot leave Mademoiselle Stangerson in her present state. Very well, said Monsieur de Marquet; then we ll go to him. Monsieur de Marquet and the gendarme mounted the stairs. He made a sign to Larsan and the railway employ to follow. Rouletabille and I went along too. On reaching the door of Mademoiselle Stangersons chamber, Monsieur de Marquet knocked. A chambermaid appeared. It was Sylvia, with her hair all in disorder and consternation showing on her face. Is Monsieur Stangerson within? asked the magistrate. Yes, Monsieur. Tell him that I wish to speak with him. Stangerson came out. His appearance was wretched in the extreme. What do you want? he demanded of the magistrate. May I not be left in peace, Monsieur? Monsieur, said the magistrate, it is absolutely necessary that I should see Monsieur Darzac at once. If you cannot induce him to come, I shall be compelled to use the help of the law. The professor made no reply. He looked at us all like a man being led to execution, and then went back into the room. Almost immediately after Monsieur Robert Darzac came out. He was very pale. He looked at us and, his eyes falling on the railway servant, his features stiffened and he could hardly repress a groan. We were all much moved by the appearance of the man. We felt that what was about to happen would decide the fate of Monsieur Robert Darzac. Frdric Larsans face alone was radiant, showing a joy as of a dog that had at last got its prey. Pointing to the railway servant, Monsieur de Marquet said to Monsieur Darzac Do you recognise this man, Monsieur? I do, said Monsieur Darzac, in a tone which he vainly tried to make firm. He is an employ at the station at EpinaysurOrge. This young man, went on Monsieur de Marquet, affirms that he saw you get off the train at EpinaysurOrge That night, said Monsieur Darzac, interrupting, at halfpast tenit is quite true. An interval of silence followed. Monsieur Darzac, the magistrate went on in a tone of deep emotion, Monsieur Darzac, what were you doing that night, at EpinaysurOrgeat that time? Monsieur Darzac remained silent, simply closing his eyes. Monsieur Darzac, insisted Monsieur de Marquet, can you tell me how you employed your time, that night? Monsieur Darzac opened his eyes. He seemed to have recovered his selfcontrol. No, Monsieur. Think, Monsieur! for, if you persist in your strange refusal, I shall be under the painful necessity of keeping you at my disposition. I refuse. Monsieur Darzac!in the name of the law, I arrest you! The magistrate had no sooner pronounced the words than I saw Rouletabille move quickly towards Monsieur Darzac. He would certainly have spoken to him, but Darzac, by a gesture, held him off. As the gendarme approached his prisoner, a despairing cry rang through the room Robert!Robert! We recognised the voice of Mademoiselle Stangerson. We all shuddered. Larsan himself turned pale. Monsieur Darzac, in response to the cry, had flown back into the room. The magistrate, the gendarme, and Larsan followed closely after. Rouletabille and I remained on the threshold. It was a heartbreaking sight that met our eyes. Mademoiselle Stangerson, with a face of deathly pallor, had risen on her bed, in spite of the restraining efforts of two doctors and her father. She was holding out her trembling arms towards Robert Darzac on whom Larsan and the gendarme had laid hands. Her distended eyes sawshe understoodher lips seemed to form a word, but nobody made it out; and she fell back insensible. Monsieur Darzac was hurried out of the room and placed in the vestibule to wait for the vehicle Larsan had gone to fetch. We were all overcome by emotion and even Monsieur de Marquet had tears in his eyes. Rouletabille took advantage of the opportunity to say to Monsieur Darzac Are you going to put in any defense? No! replied the prisoner. Very well, then I will, Monsieur. You cannot do it, said the unhappy man with a faint smile. I canand I will. Rouletabilles voice had in it a strange strength and confidence. I can do it, Monsieur Robert Darzac, because I know more than you do! Come! Come! murmured Darzac, almost angrily. Have no fear! I shall know only what will benefit you. You must know nothing, young man, if you want me to be grateful. Rouletabille shook his head, going close up to Darzac. Listen to what I am about to say, he said in a low tone, and let it give you confidence. You do not know the name of the murderer. Mademoiselle Stangerson knows it; but only half of it; but I know his two halves; I know the whole man! Robert Darzac opened his eyes, with a look that showed he had not understood a word of what Rouletabille had said to him. At that moment the conveyance arrived, driven by Frdric Larsan. Darzac and the gendarme entered it, Larsan remaining on the drivers seat. The prisoner was taken to Corbeil. Chapter XXV. Rouletabille Goes on a Journey That same evening Rouletabille and I left the Glandier. We were very glad to get away and there was nothing more to keep us there. I declared my intention to give up the whole matter. It had been too much for me. Rouletabille, with a friendly tap on my shoulder, confessed that he had nothing more to learn at the Glandier; he had learned there all it had to tell him. We reached Paris about eight oclock, dined, and then, tired out, we separated, agreeing to meet the next morning at my rooms. Rouletabille arrived next day at the hour agreed on. He was dressed in a suit of English tweed, with an ulster on his arm, and a valise in his hand. Evidently he had prepared himself for a journey. How long shall you be away? I asked. A month or two, he said. It all depends. I asked him no more questions. Do you know, he asked, what the word was that Mademoiselle Stangerson tried to say before she fainted? Nonobody heard it. I heard it! replied Rouletabille. She said Speak!  Do you think Darzac will speak? Never. I was about to make some further observations, but he wrung my hand warmly and wished me goodbye. I had only time to ask him one question before he left. Are you not afraid that other attempts may be made while you re away? No! Not now that Darzac is in prison, he answered. With this strange remark he left. I was not to see him again until the day of Darzacs trial at the court when he appeared to explain the inexplicable. Chapter XXVI. In Which Joseph Rouletabille is Awaited with Impatience On the 15th of January, that is to say, two months and a half after the tragic events I have narrated, the Epoque printed, as the first column of the front page, the following sensational article The SeineetOise jury is summoned today to give its verdict on one of the most mysterious affairs in the annals of crime. There never has been a case with so many obscure, incomprehensible, and inexplicable points. And yet the prosecution has not hesitated to put into the prisoners dock a man who is respected, esteemed, and loved by all who knew hima young savant, the hope of French science, whose whole life has been devoted to knowledge and truth. When Paris heard of Monsieur Robert Darzacs arrest a unanimous cry of protest arose from all sides. The whole Sorbonne, disgraced by this act of the examining magistrate, asserted its belief in the innocence of Mademoiselle Stangersons fianc. Monsieur Stangerson was loud in his denunciation of this miscarriage of justice. There is no doubt in the mind of anybody that could the victim speak she would claim from the jurors of SeineetOise the man she wishes to make her husband and whom the prosecution would send to the scaffold. It is to be hoped that Mademoiselle Stangerson will shortly recover her reason, which has been temporarily unhinged by the horrible mystery at the Glandier. The question before the jury is the one we propose to deal with this very day. We have decided not to permit twelve worthy men to commit a disgraceful miscarriage of justice. We confess that the remarkable coincidences, the many convicting evidences, and the inexplicable silence on the part of the accused, as well as a total absence of any evidence for an alibi, were enough to warrant the bench of judges in assuming that in this man alone was centered the truth of the affair. The evidences are, in appearance, so overwhelming against Monsieur Robert Darzac that a detective so well informed, so intelligent, and generally so successful, as Monsieur Frdric Larsan, may be excused for having been misled by them. Up to now everything has gone against Monsieur Robert Darzac in the magisterial inquiry. Today, however, we are going to defend him before the jury, and we are going to bring to the witness stand a light that will illumine the whole mystery of the Glandier. For we possess the truth. If we have not spoken sooner, it is because the interests of certain parties in the case demand that we should take that course. Our readers may remember the unsigned reports we published relating to the Left foot of the Rue Oberkampf, at the time of the famous robbery of the Crdit Universel, and the famous case of the Gold Ingots of the Mint. In both those cases we were able to discover the truth long before even the excellent ingenuity of Frdric Larsan had been able to unravel it. These reports were written by our youngest reporter, Joseph Rouletabille, a youth of eighteen, whose fame tomorrow will be worldwide. When attention was first drawn to the Glandier case, our youthful reporter was on the spot and installed in the chteau, when every other representative of the press had been denied admission. He worked side by side with Frdric Larsan. He was amazed and terrified at the grave mistake the celebrated detective was about to make, and tried to divert him from the false scent he was following; but the great Fred refused to receive instructions from this young journalist. We know now to where it brought Monsieur Robert Darzac. But now, France must knowthe whole world must know, that, on the very evening on which Monsieur Darzac was arrested, young Rouletabille entered our editorial office and informed us that he was about to go away on a journey. How long I shall be away, he said, I cannot say; perhaps a monthperhaps twoperhaps threeperhaps I may never return. Here is a letter. If I am not back on the day on which Monsieur Darzac is to appear before the Assize Court, have this letter opened and read to the court, after all the witnesses have been heard. Arrange it with Monsieur Darzacs counsel. Monsieur Darzac is innocent. In this letter is written the name of the murderer; andthat is all I have to say. I am leaving to get my proofsfor the irrefutable evidence of the murderers guilt. Our reporter departed. For a long time we were without news from him; but, a week ago, a stranger called upon our manager and said Act in accordance with the instructions of Joseph Rouletabille, if it becomes necessary to do so. The letter left by him holds the truth. The gentleman who brought us this message would not give us his name. Today, the 15th of January, is the day of the trial. Joseph Rouletabille has not returned. It may be we shall never see him again. The press also counts its heroes, its martyrs to duty. It may be he is no longer living. We shall know how to avenge him. Our manager will, this afternoon, be at the Court of Assize at Versailles, with the letterthe letter containing the name of the murderer! At the head of the article appeared a portrait of Rouletabillethe same given as the frontispiece to this book. Those Parisians who flocked the Assize Court at Versailles, to be present at the trial of what was known as the Mystery of The Yellow Room, will certainly remember the terrible crush at the SaintLazare station. The ordinary trains were so full that special trains had to be made up. The article in the Epoque had so excited the populace that discussion was rife everywhere even to the verge of blows. Partisans of Rouletabille fought with the supporters of Frdric Larsan. Curiously enough the excitement was due less to the fact that an innocent man was in danger of a wrongful conviction than to the interest taken in their own ideas as to the Mystery of The Yellow Room. Each had his explanation to which each held fast. Those who explained the crime on Frdric Larsans theory would not admit that there could be any doubt as to the perspicacity of the popular detective. Others who had arrived at a different solution, naturally insisted that this was Rouletabilles explanation, though they did not as yet know what that was. With the days Epoque in their hands, the Larsans and the Rouletabilles fought and shoved each other on the steps of the Palais de Justice, right into the court itself. Those who could not get in remained in the neighbourhood until evening and were, with great difficulty, kept back by the soldiery and the police. They became hungry for news, welcoming the most absurd rumours. At one time the rumour spread that Monsieur Stangerson himself had been arrested in the court and had confessed to being the murderer. This goes to show to what a pitch of madness nervous excitement may carry people. Rouletabille was still expected. Some pretended to know him; and when a young man with a pass crossed the open space which separated the crowd from the Court House, a scuffle took place. Cries were raised of Rouletabille!there s Rouletabille! The arrival of the manager of the paper was the signal for a great demonstration. Some applauded, others hissed. The trial itself was presided over by Monsieur de Rocouz, a judge filled with the prejudice of his class, but a man honest at heart. The witnesses had been called. I was there, of course, as were all who had, in any way, been in touch with the mysteries of the Glandier. Monsieur Stangersonlooking many years older and almost unrecognisableLarsan, Arthur Rance, with his face ruddy as ever, Daddy Jacques, Daddy Mathieu, who was brought into court handcuffed between two gendarmes, Madame Mathieu, in tears, the two Berniers, the two nurses, the steward, all the domestics of the chteau, the employ of the Paris Post Office, the railway employ from Epinay, some friends of Monsieur and Mademoiselle Stangerson, and all Monsieur Darzacs witnesses. I was lucky enough to be called early in the trial, so that I was then able to watch and be present at almost the whole of the proceedings. The court was so crowded that many lawyers were compelled to find seats on the steps. Behind the bench of justices were representatives from other benches. Monsieur Robert Darzac stood in the prisoners dock between policemen, tall, handsome, and calm. A murmur of admiration rather than of compassion greeted his appearance. He leaned forward towards his counsel, Matre Henri Robert, who, assisted by his chief secretary, Matre Andr Hesse, was busily turning over the folios of his brief. Many expected that Monsieur Stangerson, after giving his evidence, would have gone over to the prisoner and shaken hands with him; but he left the court without another word. It was remarked that the jurors appeared to be deeply interested in a rapid conversation which the manager of the Epoque was having with Matre Henri Robert. The manager, later, sat down in the front row of the public seats. Some were surprised that he was not asked to remain with the other witnesses in the room reserved for them. The reading of the indictment was got through, as it always is, without any incident. I shall not here report the long examination to which Monsieur Darzac was subjected. He answered all the questions quickly and easily. His silence as to the important matters of which we know was dead against him. It would seem as if this reticence would be fatal for him. He resented the Presidents reprimands. He was told that his silence might mean death. Very well, he said; I will submit to it; but I am innocent. With that splendid ability which has made his fame, Matre Robert took advantage of the incident, and tried to show that it brought out in noble relief his clients character; for only heroic natures could remain silent for moral reasons in face of such a danger. The eminent advocate however, only succeeded in assuring those who were already assured of Darzacs innocence. At the adjournment Rouletabille had not yet arrived. Every time a door opened, all eyes there turned towards it and back to the manager of the Epoque, who sat impassive in his place. When he once was feeling in his pocket a loud murmur of expectation followed. The letter! It is not, however, my intention to report in detail the course of the trial. My readers are sufficiently acquainted with the mysteries surrounding the Glandier case to enable me to go on to the really dramatic dnouement of this evermemorable day. When the trial was resumed, Matre Henri Robert questioned Daddy Mathieu as to his complicity in the death of the keeper. His wife was also brought in and was confronted by her husband. She burst into tears and confessed that she had been the keepers mistress, and that her husband had suspected it. She again, however, affirmed that he had had nothing to do with the murder of her lover. Matre Henri Robert thereupon asked the court to hear Frdric Larsan on this point. In a short conversation which I have had with Frdric Larsan, during the adjournment, declared the advocate, he has made me understand that the death of the keeper may have been brought about otherwise than by the hand of Mathieu. It will be interesting to hear Frdric Larsans theory. Frdric Larsan was brought in. His explanation was quite clear. I see no necessity, he said, for bringing Mathieu in this. I have told Monsieur de Marquet that the mans threats had biassed the examining magistrate against him. To me the attempt to murder Mademoiselle and the death of the keeper are the work of one and the same person. Mademoiselle Stangersons murderer, flying through the court, was fired on; it was thought he was struck, perhaps killed. As a matter of fact, he only stumbled at the moment of his disappearance behind the corner of the right wing of the chteau. There he encountered the keeper who, no doubt, tried to seize him. The murderer had in his hand the knife with which he had stabbed Mademoiselle Stangerson and with this he killed the keeper. This very simple explanation appeared at once plausible and satisfying. A murmur of approbation was heard. And the murderer? What became of him? asked the President. He was evidently hidden in an obscure corner at the end of the court. After the people had left the court carrying with them the body of the keeper, the murderer quietly made his escape. The words had scarcely left Larsans mouth when from the back of the court came a youthful voice I agree with Frdric Larsan as to the death of the keeper; but I do not agree with him as to the way the murderer escaped! Everybody turned round, astonished. The clerks of the court sprang towards the speaker, calling out silence, and the President angrily ordered the intruder to be immediately expelled. The same clear voice, however, was again heard It is I, Monsieur PresidentJoseph Rouletabille! Chapter XXVII. In Which Joseph Rouletabille Appears in All His Glory The excitement was extreme. Cries from fainting women were to be heard amid the extraordinary bustle and stir. The majesty of the law was utterly forgotten. The President tried in vain to make himself heard. Rouletabille made his way forward with difficulty, but by dint of much elbowing reached his manager and greeted him cordially. The letter was passed to him and pocketing it he turned to the witnessbox. He was dressed exactly as on the day he left me even to the ulster over his arm. Turning to the President, he said I beg your pardon, Monsieur President, but I have only just arrived from America. The steamer was late. My name is Joseph Rouletabille! The silence which followed his stepping into the witnessbox was broken by laughter when his words were heard. Everybody seemed relieved and glad to find him there, as if in the expectation of hearing the truth at last. But the President was extremely incensed So, you are Joseph Rouletabille, he replied; well, young man, I ll teach you what comes of making a farce of justice. By virtue of my discretionary power, I hold you at the courts disposition. I ask nothing better, Monsieur President. I have come here for that purpose. I humbly beg the courts pardon for the disturbance of which I have been the innocent cause. I beg you to believe that nobody has a greater respect for the court than I have. I came in as I could. He smiled. Take him away! ordered the President. Matre Henri Robert intervened. He began by apologising for the young man, who, he said, was moved only by the best intentions. He made the President understand that the evidence of a witness who had slept at the Glandier during the whole of that eventful week could not be omitted, and the present witness, moreover, had come to name the real murderer. Are you going to tell us who the murderer was? asked the President, somewhat convinced though still sceptical. I have come for that purpose, Monsieur President! replied Rouletabille. An attempt at applause was silenced by the usher. Joseph Rouletabille, said Matre Henri Robert, has not been regularly subpoenaed as a witness, but I hope, Monsieur President, you will examine him in virtue of your discretionary powers. Very well! said the President, we will question him. But we must proceed in order. The AdvocateGeneral rose It would, perhaps, be better, he said, if the young man were to tell us now whom he suspects. The President nodded ironically If the AdvocateGeneral attaches importance to the deposition of Monsieur Joseph Rouletabille, I see no reason why this witness should not give us the name of the murderer. A pin drop could have been heard. Rouletabille stood silent looking sympathetically at Darzac, who, for the first time since the opening of the trial, showed himself agitated. Well, cried the President, we wait for the name of the murderer. Rouletabille, feeling in his waistcoat pocket, drew his watch and, looking at it, said Monsieur President, I cannot name the murderer before halfpast six oclock! Loud murmurs of disappointment filled the room. Some of the lawyers were heard to say He s making fun of us! The President in a stern voice, said This joke has gone far enough. You may retire, Monsieur, into the witnesses room. I hold you at our disposition. Rouletabille protested. I assure you, Monsieur President, he cried in his sharp, clear voice, that when I do name the murderer you will understand why I could not speak before halfpast six. I assert this on my honour. I can, however, give you now some explanation of the murder of the keeper. Monsieur Frdric Larsan, who has seen me at work at the Glandier, can tell you with what care I studied this case. I found myself compelled to differ with him in arresting Monsieur Robert Darzac, who is innocent. Monsieur Larsan knows of my good faith and knows that some importance may be attached to my discoveries, which have often corroborated his own. Frdric Larsan said Monsieur President, it will be interesting to hear Monsieur Joseph Rouletabille, especially as he differs from me. A murmur of approbation greeted the detectives speech. He was a good sportsman and accepted the challenge. The struggle between the two promised to be exciting. As the President remained silent, Frdric Larsan continued We agree that the murderer of the keeper was the assailant of Mademoiselle Stangerson; but as we are not agreed as to how the murderer escaped, I am curious to hear Monsieur Rouletabilles explanation. I have no doubt you are, said my friend. General laughter followed this remark. The President angrily declared that if it was repeated, he would have the court cleared. Now, young man, said the President, you have heard Monsieur Frdric Larsan; how did the murderer get away from the court? Rouletabille looked at Madame Mathieu, who smiled back at him sadly. Since Madame Mathieu, he said, has freely admitted her intimacy with the keeper Why, it s the boy! exclaimed Daddy Mathieu. Remove that man! ordered the President. Mathieu was removed from the court. Rouletabille went on Since she has made this confession, I am free to tell you that she often met the keeper at night on the first floor of the donjon, in the room which was once an oratory. These meetings became more frequent when her husband was laid up by his rheumatism. She gave him morphine to ease his pain and to give herself more time for the meetings. Madame Mathieu came to the chteau that night, enveloped in a large black shawl which served also as a disguise.


This was the phantom that disturbed Daddy Jacques. She knew how to imitate the mewing of Mother Angenoux cat and she would make the cries to advise the keeper of her presence. The recent repairs of the donjon did not interfere with their meetings in the keepers old room, in the donjon, since the new room assigned to him at the end of the right wing was separated from the stewards room by a partition only. Previous to the tragedy in the court Madame Mathieu and the keeper left the donjon together. I learnt these facts from my examination of the footmarks in the court the next morning. Bernier, the concierge, whom I had stationed behind the donjonas he will explain himselfcould not see what passed in the court. He did not reach the court until he heard the revolver shots, and then he fired. When the woman parted from the man she went towards the open gate of the court, while he returned to his room. He had almost reached the door when the revolvers rang out. He had just reached the corner when a shadow bounded by. Meanwhile, Madame Mathieu, surprised by the revolver shots and by the entrance of people into the court, crouched in the darkness. The court is a large one and, being near the gate, she might easily have passed out unseen. But she remained and saw the body being carried away. In great agony of mind she neared the vestibule and saw the dead body of her lover on the stairs lit up by Daddy Jacques lantern. She then fled; and Daddy Jacques joined her. That same night, before the murder, Daddy Jacques had been awakened by the cats cry, and, looking through his window, had seen the black phantom. Hastily dressing himself he went out and recognised her. He is an old friend of Madame Mathieu, and when she saw him she had to tell him of her relations with the keeper and begged his assistance. Daddy Jacques took pity on her and accompanied her through the oak grove out of the park, past the border of the lake to the road to Epinay. From there it was but a very short distance to her home. Daddy Jacques returned to the chteau, and, seeing how important it was for Madame Mathieus presence at the chteau to remain unknown, he had done all he could to hide it. I appeal to Monsieur Larsan, who saw me, next morning, examine the two sets of footprints. Here Rouletabille turning towards Madame Mathieu, with a bow, said The footprints of Madame bear a strange resemblance to the neat footprints of the murderer. Madame Mathieu trembled and looked at him with wide eyes as if in wonder at what he would say next. Madame has a shapely foot, long and rather large for a woman. The imprint, with its pointed toe, is very like that of the murderers. A movement in the court was repressed by Rouletabille. He held their attention at once. I hasten to add, he went on, that I attach no importance to this. Outward signs like these are often liable to lead us into error, if we do not reason rightly. Monsieur Robert Darzacs footprints are also like the murderers, and yet he is not the murderer! The President turning to Madame Mathieu asked Is that in accordance with what you know occurred? Yes, Monsieur President, she replied, it is as if Monsieur Rouletabille had been behind us. Did you see the murderer running towards the end of the right wing? Yes, as clearly as I saw them afterwards carrying the keepers body. What became of the murderer?You were in the court and could easily have seen? I saw nothing of him, Monsieur President. It became quite dark just then. Then Monsieur Rouletabille, said the President, must explain how the murderer made his escape. Rouletabille continued It was impossible for the murderer to escape by the way he had entered the court without our seeing him; or if we could nt see him we must certainly have felt him, since the court is a very narrow one enclosed in high iron railings. Then if the man was hemmed in that narrow square, how is it you did not find him?I have been asking you that for the last half hour. Monsieur President, replied Rouletabille, I cannot answer that question before halfpast six! By this time the people in the courtroom were beginning to believe in this new witness. They were amused by his melodramatic action in thus fixing the hour; but they seemed to have confidence in the outcome. As for the President, it looked as if he also had made up his mind to take the young man in the same way. He had certainly been impressed by Rouletabilles explanation of Madame Mathieus part. Well, Monsieur Rouletabille, he said, as you say; but dont let us see any more of you before halfpast six. Rouletabille bowed to the President, and made his way to the door of the witnesses room. I quietly made my way through the crowd and left the court almost at the same time as Rouletabille. He greeted me heartily, and looked happy. I ll not ask you, my dear fellow, I said, smiling, what you ve been doing in America; because I ve no doubt you ll say you cant tell me until after halfpast six. No, my dear Sainclair, I ll tell you right now why I went to America. I went in search of the name of the other half of the murderer! The name of the other half? Exactly. When we last left the Glandier I knew there were two halves to the murderer and the name of only one of them. I went to America for the name of the other half. I was too puzzled to answer. Just then we entered the witnesses room, and Rouletabille was immediately surrounded. He showed himself very friendly to all except Arthur Rance to whom he exhibited a marked coldness of manner. Frdric Larsan came in also. Rouletabille went up and shook him heartily by the hand. His manner toward the detective showed that he had got the better of the policeman. Larsan smiled and asked him what he had been doing in America. Rouletabille began by telling him some anecdotes of his voyage. They then turned aside together apparently with the object of speaking confidentially. I, therefore, discreetly left them and, being curious to hear the evidence, returned to my seat in the courtroom where the public plainly showed its lack of interest in what was going on in their impatience for Rouletabilles return at the appointed time. On the stroke of halfpast six Joseph Rouletabille was again brought in. It is impossible for me to picture the tense excitement which appeared on every face, as he made his way to the bar. Darzac rose to his feet, frightfully pale. The President, addressing Rouletabille, said gravely I will not ask you to take the oath, because you have not been regularly summoned; but I trust there is no need to urge upon you the gravity of the statement you are about to make. Rouletabille looked the President quite calmly and steadily in the face, and replied Yes, Monsieur. At your last appearance here, said the President, we had arrived at the point where you were to tell us how the murderer escaped, and also his name. Now, Monsieur Rouletabille, we await your explanation. Very well, Monsieur, began my friend amidst a profound silence. I had explained how it was impossible for the murderer to get away without being seen. And yet he was there with us in the court. And you did not see him? At least that is what the prosecution declares. No! we all of us saw him, Monsieur le Prsident! cried Rouletabille. Then why was he not arrested? Because no one, besides myself, knew that he was the murderer. It would have spoiled my plans to have had him arrested, and I had then no proof other than my own reasoning. I was convinced we had the murderer before us and that we were actually looking at him. I have now brought what I consider the indisputable proof. Speak out, Monsieur! Tell us the murderers name. You will find it on the list of names present in the court on the night of the tragedy, replied Rouletabille. The people present in the courtroom began showing impatience. Some of them even called for the name, and were silenced by the usher. The list includes Daddy Jacques, Bernier the concierge, and Mr. Arthur Rance, said the President. Do you accuse any of these? No, Monsieur! Then I do not understand what you are driving at. There was no other person at the end of the court. Yes, Monsieur, there was, not at the end, but above the court, who was leaning out of the window. Do you mean Frdric Larsan! exclaimed the President. Yes! Frdric Larsan! replied Rouletabille in a ringing tone. Frdric Larsan is the murderer! The courtroom became immediately filled with loud and indignant protests. So astonished was he that the President did not attempt to quiet it. The quick silence which followed was broken by the distinctly whispered words from the lips of Robert Darzac It s impossible! He s mad! You dare to accuse Frdric Larsan, Monsieur? asked the President. If you are not mad, what are your proofs? Proofs, Monsieur?Do you want proofs? Well, here is one, cried Rouletabille shrilly. Let Frdric Larsan be called! Usher, call Frdric Larsan. The usher hurried to the side door, opened it, and disappeared. The door remained open, while all eyes turned expectantly towards it. The clerk reappeared and, stepping forward, said Monsieur President, Frdric Larsan is not here. He left at about four oclock and has not been seen since. That is my proof! cried Rouletabille, triumphantly. Explain yourself? demanded the President. My proof is Larsans flight, said the young reporter. He will not come back. You will see no more of Frdric Larsan. Unless you are playing with the court, Monsieur, why did you not accuse him when he was present? He would then have answered you. He could give no other answer than the one he has now given by his flight. We cannot believe that Larsan has fled. There was no reason for his doing so. Did he know you d make this charge? He did. I told him I would. Do you mean to say that knowing Larsan was the murderer you gave him the opportunity to escape? Yes, Monsieur President, I did, replied Rouletabille, proudly. I am not a policeman, I am a journalist; and my business is not to arrest people. My business is in the service of truth, and is not that of an executioner. If you are just, Monsieur, you will see that I am right. You can now understand why I refrained until this hour to divulge the name. I gave Larsan time to catch the 417 train for Paris, where he would know where to hide himself, and leave no traces. You will not find Frdric Larsan, declared Rouletabille, fixing his eyes on Monsieur Robert Darzac. He is too cunning. He is a man who has always escaped you and whom you have long searched for in vain. If he did not succeed in outwitting me, he can yet easily outwit any police. This man who, four years ago, introduced himself to the Sret, and became celebrated as Frdric Larsan, is notorious under another namea name well known to crime. Frdric Larsan, Monsieur President, is Ballmeyer! Ballmeyer! cried the President. Ballmeyer! exclaimed Robert Darzac, springing to his feet. Ballmeyer!It was true, then! Ah! Monsieur Darzac; you dont think I am mad, now! cried Rouletabille. Ballmeyer! Ballmeyer! No other word could be heard in the courtroom. The President adjourned the hearing. Those of my readers who may not have heard of Ballmeyer will wonder at the excitement the name caused. And yet the doings of this remarkable criminal form the subjectmatter of the most dramatic narratives of the newspapers and criminal records of the past twenty years. It had been reported that he was dead, and thus had eluded the police as he had eluded them throughout the whole of his career. Ballmeyer was the best specimen of the highclass gentleman swindler. He was an adept at sleight of hand tricks, and no bolder or more ruthless crook ever lived. He was received in the best society, and was a member of some of the most exclusive clubs. On many of his depredatory expeditions he had not hesitated to use the knife and the muttonbone. No difficulty stopped him and no operation was too dangerous. He had been caught, but escaped on the very morning of his trial, by throwing pepper into the eyes of the guards who were conducting him to Court. It was known later that, in spite of the keen hunt after him by the most expert of detectives, he had sat that same evening at a first performance in the Thtre Franais, without the slightest disguise. He left France, later, to work America. The police there succeeded in once capturing him, but the extraordinary man escaped the next day. It would need a volume to recount the adventures of this mastercriminal. And yet this was the man Rouletabille had allowed to get away! Knowing all about him and who he was, he afforded the criminal an opportunity for another laugh at the society he had defied! I could not help admiring the bold stroke of the young journalist, because I felt certain his motive had been to protect both Mademoiselle Stangerson and rid Darzac of an enemy at the same time. The crowd had barely recovered from the effect of the astonishing revelation when the hearing was resumed. The question in everybodys mind was Admitting that Larsan was the murderer, how did he get out of The Yellow Room? Rouletabille was immediately called to the bar and his examination continued. You have told us, said the President, that it was impossible to escape from the end of the court. Since Larsan was leaning out of his window, he had left the court. How did he do that? He escaped by a most unusual way. He climbed the wall, sprang onto the terrace, and, while we were engaged with the keepers body, reached the gallery by the window. He then had little else to do than to open the window, get in and call out to us, as if he had just come from his own room. To a man of Ballmeyers strength all that was mere childs play. And here, Monsieur, is the proof of what I say. Rouletabille drew from his pocket a small packet, from which he produced a strong iron peg. This, Monsieur, he said, is a spike which perfectly fits a hole still to be seen in the cornice supporting the terrace. Larsan, who thought and prepared for everything in case of any emergency, had fixed this spike into the cornice. All he had to do to make his escape good was to plant one foot on a stone which is placed at the corner of the chteau, another on this support, one hand on the cornice of the keepers door and the other on the terrace, and Larsan was clear of the ground. The rest was easy. His acting after dinner as if he had been drugged was make believe. He was not drugged; but he did drug me. Of course he had to make it appear as if he also had been drugged so that no suspicion should fall on him for my condition. Had I not been thus overpowered, Larsan would never have entered Mademoiselle Stangersons chamber that night, and the attack on her would not have taken place. A groan came from Darzac, who appeared to be unable to control his suffering. You can understand, added Rouletabille, that Larsan would feel himself hampered from the fact that my room was so close to his, and from a suspicion that I would be on the watch that night. Naturally, he could not for a moment believe that I suspected him! But I might see him leaving his room when he was about to go to Mademoiselle Stangerson. He waited till I was asleep, and my friend Sainclair was busy trying to rouse me. Ten minutes after that Mademoiselle was calling out, Murder!  How did you come to suspect Larsan? asked the President. My pure reason pointed to him. That was why I watched him. But I did not foresee the drugging. He is very cunning. Yes, my pure reason pointed to him; but I required tangible proof so that my eyes could see him as my pure reason saw him. What do you mean by your pure reason? That power of ones mind which admits of no disturbing elements to a conclusion. The day following the incident of the inexplicable gallery, I felt myself losing control of it. I had allowed myself to be diverted by fallacious evidence; but I recovered and again took hold of the right end. I satisfied myself that the murderer could not have left the gallery, either naturally or supernaturally. I narrowed the field of consideration to that small circle, so to speak. The murderer could not be outside that circle. Now who were in it? There was, first, the murderer. Then there were Daddy Jacques, Monsieur Stangerson, Frdric Larsan, and myself. Five persons in all, counting in the murderer. And yet, in the gallery, there were but four. Now since it had been demonstrated to me that the fifth could not have escaped, it was evident that one of the four present in the gallery must be a doublehe must be himself and the murderer also. Why had I not seen this before? Simply because the phenomenon of the double personality had not occurred before in this inquiry. Now who of the four persons in the gallery was both that person and the assassin? I went over in my mind what I had seen. I had seen at one and the same time, Monsieur Stangerson and the murderer, Daddy Jacques and the murderer, myself and the murderer; so that the murderer, then, could not be either Monsieur Stangerson, Daddy Jacques, or myself. Had I seen Frdric Larsan and the murderer at the same time?No!Two seconds had passed, during which I lost sight of the murderer; for, as I have noted in my papers, he arrived two seconds before Monsieur Stangerson, Daddy Jacques, and myself at the meetingpoint of the two galleries. That would have given Larsan time to go through the offturning gallery, snatch off his false beard, return, and hurry with us as if, like us, in pursuit of the murderer. I was sure now I had got hold of the right end in my reasoning. With Frdric Larsan was now always associated, in my mind, the personality of the unknown of whom I was in pursuitthe murderer, in other words. That revelation staggered me. I tried to regain my balance by going over the evidences previously traced, but which had diverted my mind and led me away from Frdric Larsan. What were these evidences? 1st. I had seen the unknown in Mademoiselle Stangersons chamber. On going to Frdric Larsans room, I had found Larsan sound asleep. 2nd. The ladder. 3rd. I had placed Frdric Larsan at the end of the offturning gallery and had told him that I would rush into Mademoiselle Stangersons room to try to capture the murderer. Then I returned to Mademoiselle Stangersons chamber where I had seen the unknown. The first evidence did not disturb me much. It is likely that, when I descended from my ladder, after having seen the unknown in Mademoiselle Stangersons chamber, Larsan had already finished what he was doing there. Then, while I was reentering the chteau, Larsan went back to his own room and, undressing himself, went to sleep. Nor did the second evidence trouble me. If Larsan were the murderer, he could have no use for a ladder; but the ladder might have been placed there to give an appearance to the murderers entrance from without the chteau; especially as Larsan had accused Darzac and Darzac was not in the chteau that night. Further, the ladder might have been placed there to facilitate Larsans flight in case of absolute necessity. But the third evidence puzzled me altogether. Having placed Larsan at the end of the offturning gallery, I could not explain how he had taken advantage of the moment when I had gone to the left wing of the chteau to find Monsieur Stangerson and Daddy Jacques, to return to Mademoiselle Stangersons room. It was a very dangerous thing to do. He risked being captured,and he knew it. And he was very nearly captured. He had not had time to regain his post, as he had certainly hoped to do. He had then a very strong reason for returning to his room. As for myself, when I sent Daddy Jacques to the end of the right gallery, I naturally thought that Larsan was still at his post. Daddy Jacques, in going to his post, had not looked, when he passed, to see whether Larsan was at his post or not. What, then, was the urgent reason which had compelled Larsan to go to the room a second time? I guessed it to be some evidence of his presence there. He had left something very important in that room. What was it? And had he recovered it? I begged Madame Bernier who was accustomed to clean the room to look, and she found a pair of eyeglassesthis pair, Monsieur President! And Rouletabille drew the eyeglasses, of which we know, from his pocket. When I saw these eyeglasses, he continued, I was utterly nonplussed. I had never seen Larsan wear eyeglasses. What did they mean? Suddenly I exclaimed to myself I wonder if he is longsighted? I had never seen Larsan write. He might, then, be longsighted. They would certainly know at the Sret, and also know if the glasses were his. Such evidence would be damning. That explained Larsans return. I know now that Larsan, or Ballmeyer, is longsighted and that these glasses belonged to him. I now made one mistake. I was not satisfied with the evidence I had obtained. I wished to see the mans face. Had I refrained from this, the second terrible attack would not have occurred. But, asked the President, why should Larsan go to Mademoiselle Stangersons room, at all? Why should he twice attempt to murder her? Because he loves her, Monsieur President. That is certainly a reason, but It is the only reason. He was madly in love, and because of that, andother things, he was capable of committing any crime. Did Mademoiselle Stangerson know this? Yes, Monsieur; but she was ignorant of the fact that the man who was pursuing her was Frdric Larsan, otherwise, of course, he would not have been allowed to be at the chteau. I noticed, when he was in her room after the incident in the gallery, that he kept himself in the shadow, and that he kept his head bent down. He was looking for the lost eyeglasses. Mademoiselle Stangerson knew Larsan under another name. Monsieur Darzac, asked the President, did Mademoiselle Stangerson in any way confide in you on this matter? How is it that she has never spoken about it to anyone? If you are innocent, she would have wished to spare you the pain of being accused. Mademoiselle Stangerson told me nothing, replied Monsieur Darzac. Does what this young man say appear probable to you? the President asked. Mademoiselle Stangerson has told me nothing, he replied stolidly. How do you explain that, on the night of the murder of the keeper, the President asked, turning to Rouletabille, the murderer brought back the papers stolen from Monsieur Stangerson?How do you explain how the murderer gained entrance into Mademoiselle Stangersons locked room? The last question is easily answered. A man like Larsan, or Ballmeyer, could have had made duplicate keys. As to the documents, I think Larsan had not intended to steal them, at first. Closely watching Mademoiselle with the purpose of preventing her marriage with Monsieur Robert Darzac, he one day followed her and Monsieur into the Grands Magasins de la Louvre. There he got possession of the reticule which she lost, or left behind. In that reticule was a key with a brass head. He did not know there was any value attached to the key till the advertisement in the newspapers revealed it. He then wrote to Mademoiselle, as the advertisement requested. No doubt he asked for a meeting, making known to her that he was also the person who had for some time pursued her with his love. He received no answer. He went to the Post Office and ascertained that his letter was no longer there. He had already taken complete stock of Monsieur Darzac, and, having decided to go to any lengths to gain Mademoiselle Stangerson, he had planned that, whatever might happen, Monsieur Darzac, his hated rival, should be the man to be suspected. I do not think that Larsan had as yet thought of murdering Mademoiselle Stangerson; but whatever he might do, he made sure that Monsieur Darzac should suffer for it. He was very nearly of the same height as Monsieur Darzac and had almost the same sized feet. It would not be difficult, to take an impression of Monsieur Darzacs footprints, and have similar boots made for himself. Such tricks were mere childs play for Larsan, or Ballmeyer. Receiving no reply to his letter, he determined, since Mademoiselle Stangerson would not come to him, that he would go to her. His plan had long been formed. He had made himself master of the plans of the chteau and the pavilion. So that, one afternoon, while Monsieur and Mademoiselle Stangerson were out for a walk, and while Daddy Jacques was away, he entered the latter by the vestibule window. He was alone, and, being in no hurry, he began examining the furniture. One of the pieces, resembling a safe, had a very small keyhole. That interested him! He had with him the little key with the brass head, and, associating one with the other, he tried the key in the lock. The door opened. He saw nothing but papers. They must be very valuable to have been put away in a safe, and the key to which to be of so much importance. Perhaps a thought of blackmail occurred to him as a useful possibility in helping him in his designs on Mademoiselle Stangerson. He quickly made a parcel of the papers and took it to the lavatory in the vestibule. Between the time of his first examination of the pavilion and the night of the murder of the keeper, Larsan had had time to find out what those papers contained. He could do nothing with them, and they were rather compromising. That night he took them back to the chteau. Perhaps he hoped that, by returning the papers he might obtain some gratitude from Mademoiselle Stangerson. But whatever may have been his reasons, he took the papers back and so rid himself of an encumbrance. Rouletabille coughed. It was evident to me that he was embarrassed. He had arrived at a point where he had to keep back his knowledge of Larsans true motive. The explanation he had given had evidently been unsatisfactory. Rouletabille was quick enough to note the bad impression he had made, for, turning to the President, he said And now we come to the explanation of the Mystery of The Yellow Room! A movement of chairs in the court with a rustling of dresses and an energetic whispering of Hush! showed the curiosity that had been aroused. It seems to me, said the President, that the Mystery of The Yellow Room, Monsieur Rouletabille, is wholly explained by your hypothesis. Frdric Larsan is the explanation. We have merely to substitute him for Monsieur Robert Darzac. Evidently the door of The Yellow Room was open at the time Monsieur Stangerson was alone, and that he allowed the man who was coming out of his daughters chamber to pass without arresting himperhaps at her entreaty to avoid all scandal. No, Monsieur President, protested the young man. You forget that, stunned by the attack made on her, Mademoiselle Stangerson was not in a condition to have made such an appeal. Nor could she have locked and bolted herself in her room. You must also remember that Monsieur Stangerson has sworn that the door was not open. That, however, is the only way in which it can be explained. The Yellow Room was as closely shut as an iron safe. To use your own expression, it was impossible for the murderer to make his escape either naturally or supernaturally. When the room was broken into he was not there! He must, therefore, have escaped. That does not follow. What do you mean? There was no need for him to escapeif he was not there! Not there! Evidently, not. He could not have been there, if he were not found there. But, what about the evidences of his presence? asked the President. That, Monsieur President, is where we have taken hold of the wrong end. From the time Mademoiselle Stangerson shut herself in her room to the time her door was burst open, it was impossible for the murderer to escape. He was not found because he was not there during that time. But the evidences? They have led us astray. In reasoning on this mystery we must not take them to mean what they apparently mean. Why do we conclude the murderer was there?Because he left his tracks in the room? Good! But may he not have been there before the room was locked. Nay, he must have been there before! Let us look into the matter of these traces and see if they do not point to my conclusion. After the publication of the article in the Matin and my conversation with the examining magistrate on the journey from Paris to EpinaysurOrge, I was certain that The Yellow Room had been hermetically sealed, so to speak, and that consequently the murderer had escaped before Mademoiselle Stangerson had gone into her chamber at midnight. At the time I was much puzzled. Mademoiselle Stangerson could not have been her own murderer, since the evidences pointed to some other person. The assassin, then, had come before. If that were so, how was it that Mademoiselle had been attacked after? or rather, that she appeared to have been attacked after? It was necessary for me to reconstruct the occurrence and make of it two phaseseach separated from the other, in time, by the space of several hours. One phase in which Mademoiselle Stangerson had really been attackedthe other phase in which those who heard her cries thought she was being attacked. I had not then examined The Yellow Room. What were the marks on Mademoiselle Stangerson? There were marks of strangulation and the wound from a hard blow on the temple. The marks of strangulation did not interest me much; they might have been made before, and Mademoiselle Stangerson could have concealed them by a collarette, or any similar article of apparel. I had to suppose this the moment I was compelled to reconstruct the occurrence by two phases. Mademoiselle Stangerson had, no doubt, her own reasons for so doing, since she had told her father nothing of it, and had made it understood to the examining magistrate that the attack had taken place in the night, during the second phase. She was forced to say that, otherwise her father would have questioned her as to her reason for having said nothing about it. But I could not explain the blow on the temple. I understood it even less when I learned that the muttonbone had been found in her room. She could not hide the fact that she had been struck on the head, and yet that wound appeared evidently to have been inflicted during the first phase, since it required the presence of the murderer! I thought Mademoiselle Stangerson had hidden the wound by arranging her hair in bands on her forehead. As to the mark of the hand on the wall, that had evidently been made during the first phasewhen the murderer was really there. All the traces of his presence had naturally been left during the first phase; the muttonbone, the black footprints, the Basque cap, the handkerchief, the blood on the wall, on the door, and on the floor. If those traces were still all there, they showed that Mademoiselle Stangersonwho desired that nothing should be knownhad not yet had time to clear them away. This led me to the conclusion that the two phases had taken place one shortly after the other. She had not had the opportunity, after leaving her room and going back to the laboratory to her father, to get back again to her room and put it in order. Her father was all the time with her, working. So that after the first phase she did not reenter her chamber till midnight. Daddy Jacques was there at ten oclock, as he was every night; but he went in merely to close the blinds and light the nightlight. Owing to her disturbed state of mind she had forgotten that Daddy Jacques would go into her room and had begged him not to trouble himself. All this was set forth in the article in the Matin. Daddy Jacques did go, however, and, in the dim light of the room, saw nothing. Mademoiselle Stangerson must have lived some anxious moments while Daddy Jacques was absent; but I think she was not aware that so many evidences had been left. After she had been attacked she had only time to hide the traces of the mans fingers on her neck and to hurry to the laboratory.


Had she known of the bone, the cap, and the handkerchief, she would have made away with them after she had gone back to her chamber at midnight. She did not see them, and undressed by the uncertain glimmer of the night light. She went to bed, wornout by anxiety and feara fear that had made her remain in the laboratory as late as possible. My reasoning had thus brought me to the second phase of the tragedy, when Mademoiselle Stangerson was alone in the room. I had now to explain the revolver shots fired during the second phase. Cries of Help!Murder! had been heard. How to explain these? As to the cries, I was in no difficulty; since she was alone in her room these could result from nightmare only. My explanation of the struggle and noise that were heard is simply that in her nightmare she was haunted by the terrible experience she had passed through in the afternoon. In her dream she sees the murderer about to spring upon her and she cries, Help! Murder! Her hand wildly seeks the revolver she had placed within her reach on the nighttable by the side of her bed, but her hand, striking the table, overturns it, and the revolver, falling to the floor, discharges itself, the bullet lodging in the ceiling. I knew from the first that the bullet in the ceiling must have resulted from an accident. Its very position suggested an accident to my mind, and so fell in with my theory of a nightmare. I no longer doubted that the attack had taken place before Mademoiselle had retired for the night. After wakening from her frightful dream and crying aloud for help, she had fainted. My theory, based on the evidence of the shots that were heard at midnight, demanded two shotsone which wounded the murderer at the time of his attack, and one fired at the time of the nightmare. The evidence given by the Berniers before the examining magistrate was to the effect that only one shot had been heard. Monsieur Stangerson testified to hearing a dull sound first followed by a sharp ringing sound. The dull sound I explained by the falling of the marbletopped table; the ringing sound was the shot from the revolver. I was now convinced I was right. The shot that had wounded the hand of the murderer and had caused it to bleed so that he left the bloody imprint on the wall was fired by Mademoiselle in selfdefence, before the second phase, when she had been really attacked. The shot in the ceiling which the Berniers heard was the accidental shot during the nightmare. I had now to explain the wound on the temple. It was not severe enough to have been made by means of the muttonbone, and Mademoiselle had not attempted to hide it. It must have been made during the second phase. It was to find this out that I went to The Yellow Room, and I obtained my answer there. Rouletabille drew a piece of white folded paper from his pocket, and drew out of it an almost invisible object which he held between his thumb and forefinger. This, Monsieur President, he said, is a haira blond hair stained with blood;it is a hair from the head of Mademoiselle Stangerson. I found it sticking to one of the corners of the overturned table. The corner of the table was itself stained with blooda tiny stainhardly visible; but it told me that, on rising from her bed, Mademoiselle Stangerson had fallen heavily and had struck her head on the corner of its marble top. I had still to learn, in addition to the name of the assassin, which I did later, the time of the original attack. I learned this from the examination of Mademoiselle Stangerson and her father, though the answers given by the former were well calculated to deceive the examining magistrate. Mademoiselle Stangerson had stated very minutely how she had spent the whole of her time that day. We established the fact that the murderer had introduced himself into the pavilion between five and six oclock. At a quarter past six the professor and his daughter had resumed their work. At five the professor had been with his daughter, and since the attack took place in the professors absence from his daughter, I had to find out just when he left her. The professor had stated that at the time when he and his daughter were about to reenter the laboratory he was met by the keeper and held in conversation about the cutting of some wood and the poachers. Mademoiselle Stangerson was not with him then since the professor said I left the keeper and rejoined my daughter who was at work in the laboratory. It was during that short interval of time that the tragedy took place. That is certain. In my minds eye I saw Mademoiselle Stangerson reenter the pavilion, go to her room to take off her hat, and find herself faced by the murderer. He had been in the pavilion for some time waiting for her. He had arranged to pass the whole night there. He had taken off Daddy Jacquess boots; he had removed the papers from the cabinet; and had then slipped under the bed. Finding the time long, he had risen, gone again into the laboratory, then into the vestibule, looked into the garden, and had seen, coming towards the pavilion, Mademoiselle Stangersonalone. He would never have dared to attack her at that hour, if he had not found her alone. His mind was made up. He would be more at ease alone with Mademoiselle Stangerson in the pavilion, than he would have been in the middle of the night, with Daddy Jacques sleeping in the attic. So he shut the vestibule window. That explains why neither Monsieur Stangerson, nor the keeper, who were at some distance from the pavilion, had heard the revolver shot. Then he went back to The Yellow Room. Mademoiselle Stangerson came in. What passed must have taken place very quickly. Mademoiselle tried to call for help; but the man had seized her by the throat. Her hand had sought and grasped the revolver which she had been keeping in the drawer of her nighttable, since she had come to fear the threats of her pursuer. The murderer was about to strike her on the head with the muttonbonea terrible weapon in the hands of a Larsan or Ballmeyer; but she fired in time, and the shot wounded the hand that held the weapon. The bone fell to the floor covered with the blood of the murderer, who staggered, clutched at the wall for supportimprinting on it the red marksand, fearing another bullet, fled. She saw him pass through the laboratory, and listened. He was long at the window. At length he jumped from it. She flew to it and shut it. The danger past, all her thoughts were of her father. Had he either seen or heard? At any cost to herself she must keep this from him. Thus when Monsieur Stangerson returned, he found the door of The Yellow Room closed, and his daughter in the laboratory, bending over her desk, at work! Turning towards Monsieur Darzac, Rouletabille cried You know the truth! Tell us, then, if that is not how things happened. I dont know anything about it, replied Monsieur Darzac. I admire you for your silence, said Rouletabille, but if Mademoiselle Stangerson knew of your danger, she would release you from your oath. She would beg of you to tell all she has confided to you. She would be here to defend you! Monsieur Darzac made no movement, nor uttered a word. He looked at Rouletabille sadly. However, said the young reporter, since Mademoiselle is not here, I must do it myself. But, believe me, Monsieur Darzac, the only means to save Mademoiselle Stangerson and restore her to her reason, is to secure your acquittal. What is this secret motive that compels Mademoiselle Stangerson to hide her knowledge from her father? asked the President. That, Monsieur, I do not know, said Rouletabille. It is no business of mine. The President turning to Monsieur Darzac endeavoured to induce him to tell what he knew. Do you still refuse, Monsieur, to tell us how you employed your time during the attempts on the life of Mademoiselle Stangerson? I cannot tell you anything, Monsieur. The President turned to Rouletabille as if appealing for an explanation. We must assume, Monsieur President, that Monsieur Robert Darzacs absensions are closely connected with Mademoiselle Stangersons secret, and that Monsieur Darzac feels himself in honour bound to remain silent. It may be that Larsan, who, since his three attempts, has had everything in training to cast suspicion on Monsieur Darzac, had fixed on just those occasions for a meeting with Monsieur Darzac at a spot most compromising. Larsan is cunning enough to have done that. The President seemed partly convinced, but still curious, he asked But what is this secret of Mademoiselle Stangerson? That I cannot tell you, said Rouletabille. I think, however, you know enough now to acquit Monsieur Robert Darzac! Unless Larsan should return, and I dont think he will, he added, with a laugh. One question more, said the President. Admitting your explanation, we know that Larsan wished to turn suspicion on Monsieur Robert Darzac, but why should he throw suspicion on Daddy Jacques also? There came in the professional detective, Monsieur, who proves himself an unraveller of mysteries, by annihilating the very proofs he had accumulated. He s a very cunning man, and a similar trick had often enabled him to turn suspicion from himself. He proved the innocence of one before accusing the other. You can easily believe, Monsieur, that so complicated a scheme as this must have been long and carefully thought out in advance by Larsan. I can tell you that he had long been engaged on its elaboration. If you care to learn how he had gathered information, you will find that he had, on one occasion, disguised himself as the commissionaire between the Laboratory of the Sret and Monsieur Stangerson, of whom experiments were demanded. In this way he had been able before the crime, on two occasions to take stock of the pavilion. He had made up so that Daddy Jacques had not recognised him. And yet Larsan had found the opportunity to rob the old man of a pair of old boots and a castoff Basque cap, which the servant had tied up in a handkerchief, with the intention of carrying them to a friend, a charcoalburner on the road to Epinay. When the crime was discovered, Daddy Jacques had immediately recognised these objects as his. They were extremely compromising, which explains his distress at the time when we spoke to him about them. Larsan confessed it all to me. He is an artist at the game. He did a similar thing in the affair of the Crdit Universel, and in that of the Gold Ingots of the Mint. Both these cases should be revised. Since Ballmeyer or Larsan has been in the Sret a number of innocent persons have been sent to prison. Chapter XXVIII. In Which it is Proved That One Does not Always Think of Everything Great excitement prevailed when Rouletabille had finished. The courtroom became agitated with the murmurings of suppressed applause. Matre Henri Robert called for an adjournment of the trial and was supported in his motion by the public prosecutor himself. The case was adjourned. The next day Monsieur Robert Darzac was released on bail, while Daddy Jacques received the immediate benefit of a no cause for action. Search was everywhere made for Frdric Larsan, but in vain. Monsieur Darzac finally escaped the awful calamity which, at one time, had threatened him. After a visit to Mademoiselle Stangerson, he was led to hope that she might, by careful nursing, one day recover her reason. Rouletabille, naturally, became the man of the hour. On leaving the Palais de Justice, the crowd bore him aloft in triumph. The press of the whole world published his exploits and his photograph. He, who had interviewed so many illustrious personages, had himself become illustrious and was interviewed in his turn. I am glad to say that the enormous success in no way turned his head. We left Versailles together, after having dined at The Dog That Smokes. In the train I put a number of questions to him which, during our meal, had been on the tip of my tongue, but which I had refrained from uttering, knowing he did not like to talk shop while eating. My friend, I said, that Larsan case is wonderful. It is worthy of you. He begged me to say no more, and humorously pretended an anxiety for me should I give way to silly praise of him because of a personal admiration for his ability. I ll come to the point, then, I said, not a little nettled. I am still in the dark as to your reason for going to America. When you left the Glandier you had found out, if I rightly understand, all about Frdric Larsan; you had discovered the exact way he had attempted the murder? Quite so. And you, he said, turning the conversation, did you suspect nothing? Nothing! It s incredible! I dont see how I could have suspected anything. You took great pains to conceal your thoughts from me. Had you already suspected Larsan when you sent for me to bring the revolvers? Yes! I had come to that conclusion through the incident of the inexplicable gallery. Larsans return to Mademoiselle Stangersons room, however, had not then been cleared up by the eyeglasses. My suspicions were the outcome of my reasoning only; and the idea of Larsan being the murderer seemed so extraordinary that I resolved to wait for actual evidence before venturing to act. Nevertheless, the suspicion worried me, and I sometimes spoke to the detective in a way that ought to have opened your eyes. I spoke disparagingly of his methods. But until I found the eyeglasses I could but look upon my suspicion of him in the light of an absurd hypothesis only. You can imagine my elation after I had explained Larsans movements. I remember well rushing into my room like a madman and crying to you I ll get the better of the great Fred. I ll get the better of him in a way that will make a sensation! I was then thinking of Larsan, the murderer. It was that same evening that Darzac begged me to watch over Mademoiselle Stangerson. I made no efforts until after we had dined with Larsan, until ten oclock. He was right there before me, and I could afford to wait. You ought to have suspected, because when we were talking of the murderers arrival, I said to you I am quite sure Larsan will be here tonight. But one important point escaped us both. It was one which ought to have opened our eyes to Larsan. Do you remember the bamboo cane? I was surprised to find Larsan had made no use of that evidence against Robert Darzac. Had it not been purchased by a man whose description tallied exactly with that of Darzac? Well, just before I saw him off at the train, after the recess during the trial, I asked him why he had nt used the cane evidence. He told me he had never had any intention of doing so; that our discovery of it in the little inn at Epinay had much embarrassed him. If you will remember, he told us then that the cane had been given him in London. Why did we not immediately say to ourselves Fred is lying. He could not have had this cane in London. He was not in London. He bought it in Paris? Then you found out, on inquiry at Cassettes, that the cane had been bought by a person dressed very like Robert Darzac, though, as we learned later, from Darzac himself, it was not he who had made the purchase. Couple this with the fact we already knew, from the letter at the poste restante, that there was actually a man in Paris who was passing as Robert Darzac, why did we not immediately fix on Fred himself? Of course, his position at the Sret was against us; but when we saw the evident eagerness on his part to find convicting evidence against Darzac, nay, even the passion he displayed in his pursuit of the man, the lie about the cane should have had a new meaning for us. If you ask why Larsan bought the cane, if he had no intention of manufacturing evidence against Darzac by means of it, the answer is quite simple. He had been wounded in the hand by Mademoiselle Stangerson, so that the cane was useful to enable him to close his hand in carrying it. You remember I noticed that he always carried it? All these details came back to my mind when I had once fixed on Larsan as the criminal. But they were too late then to be of any use to me. On the evening when he pretended to be drugged I looked at his hand and saw a thin silk bandage covering the signs of a slight healing wound. Had we taken a quicker initiative at the time Larsan told us that lie about the cane, I am certain he would have gone off, to avoid suspicion. All the same, we worried Larsan or Ballmeyer without our knowing it. But, I interrupted, if Larsan had no intention of using the cane as evidence against Darzac, why had he made himself up to look like the man when he went in to buy it? He had not specially made up as Darzac to buy the cane; he had come straight to Cassettes immediately after he had attacked Mademoiselle Stangerson. His wound was troubling him and, as he was passing along the Avenue de lOpera, the idea of the cane came to his mind and he acted on it. It was then eight oclock. And I, who had hit upon the very hour of the occurrence of the tragedy, almost convinced that Darzac was not the criminal, and knowing of the cane, I still never suspected Larsan. There are times . . . There are times, I said, when the greatest intellects . . . Rouletabille shut my mouth. I still continued to joke him, but, finding he did not reply, I saw he was no longer paying any attention to what I was saying. I found he was fast asleep. Chapter XXIX. The Mystery of Mademoiselle Stangerson During the days that followed I had several opportunities to question him as to his reason for his voyage to America, but I obtained no more precise answers than he had given me on the evening of the adjournment of the trial, when we were on the train for Paris. One day, however, on my still pressing him, he said Cant you understand that I had to know Larsans true personality? No doubt, I said, but why did you go to America to find that out? He sat smoking his pipe, and made no further reply. I began to see that I was touching on the secret that concerned Mademoiselle Stangerson. Rouletabille evidently had found it necessary to go to America to find out what the mysterious tie was that bound her to Larsan by so strange and terrible a bond. In America he had learned who Larsan was and had obtained information which closed his mouth. He had been to Philadelphia. And now, what was this mystery which held Mademoiselle Stangerson and Monsieur Robert Darzac in so inexplicable a silence? After so many years and the publicity given the case by a curious and shameless press; now that Monsieur Stangerson knows all and has forgiven all; all may be told. In every phase of this remarkable story Mademoiselle Stangerson had always been the sufferer. The beginning dates from the time when, as a young girl, she was living with her father in Philadelphia. A visitor at the house, a Frenchman, had succeeded by his wit, grace and persistent attention, in gaining her affections. He was said to be rich and had asked her of her father. Monsieur Stangerson, on making inquiries as to Monsieur Jean Roussel, found that the man was a swindler and an adventurer. Jean Roussel was but another of the many names under which the notorious Ballmeyer, a fugitive from France, tried to hide himself. Monsieur Stangerson did not know of his identity with Ballmeyer; he learned that the man was simply undesirable for his daughter. He not only refused to give his consent to the marriage but denied him admission into the house. Mathilde Stangerson, however, had fallen in love. To her Jean Roussel was everything that her love painted him. She was indignant at her fathers attitude, and did not conceal her feelings. Her father sent her to stay with an aunt in Cincinnati. There she was joined by Jean Roussel and, in spite of the reverence she felt for her father, ran away with him to get married. They went to Louisville and lived there for some time. One morning, however, a knock came at the door of the house in which they were and the police entered to arrest Jean Roussel. It was then that Mathilde Stangerson, or Roussel, learned that her husband was no other than the notorious Ballmeyer! The young woman in her despair tried to commit suicide. She failed in this, and was forced to rejoin her aunt at Cincinnati. The old lady was overjoyed to see her again. She had been anxiously searching for her and had not dared to tell Monsieur Stangerson of her disappearance. Mathilde swore her to secrecy, so that her father should not know she had been away. A month later, Mademoiselle Stangerson returned to her father, repentant, her heart dead within her, hoping only one thing that she would never again see her husband, the horrible Ballmeyer. A report was spread, a few weeks later, that he was dead, and she now determined to atone for her disobedience by a life of labour and devotion for her father. And she kept her word. All this she had confessed to Robert Darzac, and, believing Ballmeyer dead, had given herself to the joy of a union with him. But fate had resuscitated Jean Rousselthe Ballmeyer of her youth. He had taken steps to let her know that he would never allow her to marry Darzacthat he still loved her. Mademoiselle Stangerson never for one moment hesitated to confide in Monsieur Darzac. She showed him the letter in which Jean Roussel asked her to recall the first hours of their union in their beautiful and charming Louisville home. The presbytery has lost nothing of its charm, nor the garden its brightness, he had written. The scoundrel pretended to be rich and claimed the right of taking her back to Louisville. She had told Darzac that if her father should know of her dishonour, she would kill herself. Monsieur Darzac had sworn to silence her persecutor, even if he had to kill him. He was outwitted and would have succumbed had it not been for the genius of Rouletabille. Mademoiselle Stangerson was herself helpless in the hands of such a villain. She had tried to kill him when he had first threatened and then attacked her in The Yellow Room. She had, unfortunately, failed, and felt herself condemned to be for ever at the mercy of this unscrupulous wretch who was continually demanding her presence at clandestine interviews. When he sent her the letter through the Post Office, asking her to meet him, she had refused. The result of her refusal was the tragedy of The Yellow Room. The second time he wrote asking for a meeting, the letter reaching her in her sick chamber, she had avoided him by sleeping with her women. In that letter the scoundrel had warned her that, since she was too ill to come to him, he would come to her, and that he would be in her chamber at a particular hour on a particular night. Knowing that she had everything to fear from Ballmeyer, she had left her chamber on that night. It was then that the incident of the inexplicable gallery occurred. The third time she had determined to keep the appointment. He asked for it in the letter he had written in her own room, on the night of the incident in the gallery, which he left on her desk. In that letter he threatened to burn her fathers papers if she did not meet him. It was to rescue these papers that she made up her mind to see him. She did not for one moment doubt that the wretch would carry out his threat if she persisted in avoiding him, and in that case the labours of her fathers lifetime would be for ever lost. Since the meeting was thus inevitable, she resolved to see her husband and appeal to his better nature. It was for this interview that she had prepared herself on the night the keeper was killed. They did meet, and what passed between them may be imagined. He insisted that she renounce Darzac. She, on her part, affirmed her love for him. He stabbed her in his anger, determined to convict Darzac of the crime. As Larsan he could do it, and had so managed things that Darzac could never explain how he had employed the time of his absence from the chteau. Ballmeyers precautions were most cunningly taken. Larsan had threatened Darzac as he had threatened Mathildewith the same weapon, and the same threats. He wrote Darzac urgent letters, declaring himself ready to deliver up the letters that had passed between him and his wife, and to leave them for ever, if he would pay him his price. He asked Darzac to meet him for the purpose of arranging the matter, appointing the time when Larsan would be with Mademoiselle Stangerson. When Darzac went to Epinay, expecting to find Ballmeyer or Larsan there, he was met by an accomplice of Larsans, and kept waiting until such time as the coincidence could be established. It was all done with Machiavellian cunning; but Ballmeyer had reckoned without Joseph Rouletabille. Now that the Mystery of The Yellow Room has been cleared up, this is not the time to tell of Rouletabilles adventures in America. Knowing the young reporter as we do, we can understand with what acumen he had traced, step by step, the story of Mathilde Stangerson and Jean Roussel. At Philadelphia he had quickly informed himself as to Arthur William Rance. There he learned of Rances act of devotion and the reward he thought himself entitled to for it. A rumour of his marriage with Mademoiselle Stangerson had once found its way into the drawingrooms of Philadelphia. He also learned of Rances continued attentions to her and his importunities for her hand. He had taken to drink, he had said, to drown his grief at his unrequited love. It can now be understood why Rouletabille had shown so marked a coolness of demeanour towards Rance when they met in the witnesses room, on the day of the trial. The strange RousselStangerson mystery had now been laid bare. Who was this Jean Roussel? Rouletabille had traced him from Philadelphia to Cincinnati. In Cincinnati he became acquainted with the old aunt, and had found means to open her mouth. The story of Ballmeyers arrest threw the right light on the whole story. He visited the presbyterya small and pretty dwelling in the old colonial stylewhich had, indeed, lost nothing of its charm. Then, abandoning his pursuit of traces of Mademoiselle Stangerson, he took up those of Ballmeyer. He followed them from prison to prison, from crime to crime. Finally, as he was about leaving for Europe, he learned in New York that Ballmeyer had, five years before, embarked for France with some valuable papers belonging to a merchant of New Orleans whom he had murdered. And yet the whole of this mystery has not been revealed. Mademoiselle Stangerson had a child, by her husband,a son. The infant was born in the old aunts house. No one knew of it, so well had the aunt managed to conceal the event. What became of that son?That is another story which, so far, I am not permitted to relate. About two months after these events, I came upon Rouletabille sitting on a bench in the Palais de Justice, looking very depressed. What s the matter, old man? I asked. You are looking very downcast. How are your friends getting on? Apart from you, he said, I have no friends. I hope that Monsieur Darzac No doubt. And Mademoiselle StangersonHow is she? Bettermuch better. Then you ought not to be sad. I am sad, he said, because I am thinking of the perfume of the lady in black The perfume of the lady in black!I have heard you often refer to it. Tell me why it troubles you. Perhapssome day; some day, said Rouletabille. And he heaved a profound sigh. Transcribers Notes This transcription follows the text of the first edition published by Brentanos in 1908. Archaic and inconsistent spellings and punctuation have generally been left unchanged. However, the following alterations have been made to correct what are believed to be unambiguous errors in the text Fourteen occurrences of invalid or misleading punctuation (twelve of which involved errors in placement or type of quotation marks) have been corrected. Two occurrences of paragraphs ending without punctuation have been corrected. The original text contained the misspelled words uttereed, villanies, and hmself; these have all been corrected. The original text also contained the following misspellings specific to nonEnglish names and phrases two occurrences of Bte Du Bon Dieu; two occurrences of Monsieur Marquet; two occurrences of Frdrick Larsan; three occurrences of Rue Oberskampf; four occurrences of Mitre; and thirteen occurrences of Elyse. These have all been corrected. Similarly, errors in the text appearing within the illustration in Chapter XIV were also corrected. The phrase is if we were has been corrected to as if we were, in Chapter XVII. The original text has no heading for Chapter XVII, despite being part of the same continuous excerpt as Chapters XVI and XVIII. This absence has been corrected.  END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MYSTERY OF THE YELLOW ROOM  Updated editions will replace the previous onethe old editions will be renamed. 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