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 professor's precious papers
should be restored to him at the very time when an attempt was being
made to deprive him of his daughter's life! What are papers worth
to him now?
The morning following that awful night saw Monsieur de Marquet once
more at the chateau, 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
o'clock of that fatal night. He had come for his valise, he said,
which he was to take for him early next morning to the Saint-Michel
station, and had been kept out late running after poachers. Arthur
Rance had, indeed, intended to leave the chateau 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
chateau. 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 keeper's room, and that door was closed, and the
key of it was found in the keeper's 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
keeper's 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 fitted 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,
Frederic Larsan returned to the chateau. He was accompanied by one
of the employes of the railway. At that moment Rance and I were in
the vestibule discussing Mathieu's guilt or innocence, while
Rouletabille stood apart buried, apparently, in thought. The
examining magistrate and his Registrar were in the little green
drawing-room, while Darzac was with the doctor and Stangerson in
the lady's chamber. As Frederic Larsan entered the vestibule with
the railway employed, Rouletabille and I at once recognised him by
the small blond beard. We exchanged meaningful 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 drawing-room 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 railroad employe to follow. Rouletabille
and I went along too.
On reaching the door of Mademoiselle Stangerson's 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. Frederic Larsan's 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 employe at the station
at Epinay-sur-Orge."
"This young man," went on Monsieur de Marquet, "affirms that he saw
you get off the train at Epinay-sur-Orge--"
"That night," said Monsieur Darzac, interrupting, "at half-past ten
--it 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 Epinay-sur-Orge
--at 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
self-control.
"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
heart-breaking 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 saw
--she understood--her 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 can--and I will."
Rouletabille's 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 Frederic Larsan. Darzac
and the gendarme entered it, Larsan remaining on the driver's 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
o'clock, 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?"
"No--nobody 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 good-bye. 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 Darzac's 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 Seine-et-Oise jury is summoned to-day 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 prisoner's dock a man who is respected, esteemed, and
loved by all who knew him--a young savant, the hope of French
science, whose whole life has been devoted to knowledge and truth.
When Paris heard of Monsieur Robert Darzac's 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 Stangerson's fiance. 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 Seine-et-Oise 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 Frederic
Larsan, may be excused for having been misled by them. Up to now
everything has gone against Monsieur Robert Darzac in the
magisterial inquiry. To-day, 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 Credit 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 Frederic
Larsan had been able to unravel it. These reports were written by
our youngest reporter, Joseph Rouletabille, a youth of eighteen,
whose fame to-morrow will be world-wide. When attention was first
drawn to the Glandier case, our youthful reporter was on the spot
and installed in the chateau, when every other representative of
the press had been denied admission. He worked side by side with
Frederic 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 where it brought Monsieur Robert Darzac.
"But now, France must know--the 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 month--perhaps two--perhaps
three perhaps 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 Darzac's
counsel. Monsieur Darzac is innocent. In this letter is written
the name of the murderer; and--that is all I have to say. I am
leaving to get my proofs--for the irrefutable evidence of the
murderer's 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.
"To-day, 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 letter--the letter containing the name of
the murderer!"
Those Parisians who flocked to 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
Saint-Lazare 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
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