The Mystery of the Yellow Room Read online

fiance. The marks made by the bicycle may have been made by his

  bicycle. He had usually left it at the chateau; why did he take

  it to Paris on that particular occasion? Was it because he was

  not going to return again to the chateau? Was it because, owing

  to the breaking off of his marriage, his relations with the

  Stangersons were to cease? All who are interested in the matter

  affirm that those relations were to continue unchanged.

  "Frederic Larsan, however, believes that all relations were at an

  end. From the day when Monsieur Darzac accompanied Mademoiselle

  Stangerson to the Grands Magasins de la Louvre until the day after

  the crime, he had not been at the Glandier. Remember that

  Mademoiselle Stangerson lost her reticule containing the key with

  the brass head while she was in his company. From that day to the

  evening at the Elysee, the Sorbonne professor and Mademoiselle

  Stangerson did not see one another; but they may have written to

  each other. Mademoiselle Stangerson went to the Post Office to

  get a letter, which Larsan says was written by Robert Darzac; for

  knowing nothing of what had passed at the Elysee, Larsan believes

  that it was Monsieur Darzac himself who stole the reticule with

  the key, with the design of forcing her consent, by getting

  possession of the precious papers of her father--papers which

  he would have restored to him on condition that the marriage

  engagement was to be fulfilled.

  "All that would have been a very doubtful and almost absurd

  hypothesis, as Larsan admitted to me, but for another and much

  graver circumstance. In the first place here is something which I

  have not been able to explain--Monsieur Darzac had himself, on the

  24th, gone to the Post Office to ask for the letter which

  Mademoiselle had called for and received on the previous evening.

  The description of the man who made application tallies in every

  respect with the appearance of Monsieur Darzac, who, in answer to

  the questions put to him by the examining magistrate, denies that

  he went to the Post Office. Now even admitting that the letter was

  written by him--which I do not believe--he knew that Mademoiselle

  Stangerson had received it, since he had seen it in her hands in

  the garden at the Elysee. It could not have been he, then, who

  had gone to the Post Office, the day after the 24th, to ask for a

  letter which he knew was no longer there.

  "To me it appears clear that somebody, strongly resembling him,

  stole Mademoiselle Stangerson's reticule and in that letter, had

  demanded of her something which she had not sent him. He must have

  been surprised at the failure of his demand, hence his application

  at the Post Office, to learn whether his letter had been delivered

  to the person to whom it had been addressed. Finding that it had

  been claimed, he had become furious. What had he demanded? Nobody

  but Mademoiselle Stangerson knows. Then, on the day following, it

  is reported that she had been attacked during the night, and, the

  next day, I discovered that the Professor had, at the same time,

  been robbed by means of the key referred to in the poste restante

  letter. It would seem, then, that the man who went to the Post

  Office to inquire for the letter must have been the murderer. All

  these arguments Larsan applies as against Monsieur Darzac. You

  may be sure that the examining magistrate, Larsan, and myself, have

  done our best to get from the Post Office precise details relative

  to the singular personage who applied there on the 24th of October.

  But nothing has been learned. We don't know where he came from--or

  where he went. Beyond the description which makes him resemble

  Monsieur Darzac, we know nothing.

  "I have announced in the leading journals that a handsome reward

  will be given to a driver of any public conveyance who drove a fare

  to No. 40, Post Office, about ten o'clock on the morning of the 24th

  of October. Information to be addressed to 'M. R.,' at the office

  of the 'Epoque'; but no answer has resulted. The man may have

  walked; but, as he was most likely in a hurry, there was a chance

  that he might have gone in a cab. Who, I keep asking myself night

  and day, is the man who so strongly resembles Monsieur Robert Darzac,

  and who is also known to have bought the cane which has fallen into

  Larsan's hands?

  "The most serious fact is that Monsieur Darzac was, at the very same

  time that his double presented himself at the Post Office, scheduled

  for a lecture at the Sorbonne. He had not delivered that lecture,

  and one of his friends took his place. When I questioned him as to

  how he had employed the time, he told me that he had gone for a

  stroll in the Bois de Boulogne. What do you think of a professor

  who, instead of giving his lecture, obtains a substitute to go for

  a stroll in the Bois de Boulogne? When Frederic Larsan asked him

  for information on this point, he quietly replied that it was no

  business of his how he spent his time in Paris. On which Fred swore

  aloud that he would find out, without anybody's help.

  "All this seems to fit in with Fred's hypothesis, namely, that

  Monsieur Stangerson allowed the murderer to escape in order to avoid

  a scandal. The hypothesis is further substantiated by the fact that

  Darzac was in The Yellow Room and was permitted to get away. That

  hypothesis I believe to be a false one.--Larsan is being misled by

  it, though that would not displease me, did it not affect an innocent

  person. Now does that hypothesis really mislead Frederic Larsan?

  That is the question--that is the question."

  "Perhaps he is right," I cried, interrupting Rouletabille. "Are

  you sure that Monsieur Darzac is innocent?--It seems to me that

  these are extraordinary coincidences--"

  "Coincidences," replied my friend, "are the worst enemies to truth."

  "What does the examining magistrate think now of the matter?"

  "Monsieur de Marquet hesitates to accuse Monsieur Darzac, in the

  absence of absolute proofs. Not only would he have public opinion

  wholly against him, to say nothing of the Sorbonne, but Monsieur

  and Mademoiselle Stangerson. She adores Monsieur Robert Darzac.

  Indistinctly as she saw the murderer, it would be hard to make the

  public believe that she could not have recognised him, if Darzac

  had been the criminal. No doubt The Yellow Room was very dimly

  lit; but a night-light, however small, gives some light. Here, my

  boy, is how things stood when, three days, or rather three nights

  ago, an extraordinarily strange incident occurred."

  CHAPTER XIV

  "I Expect the Assassin This Evening"

  "I must take you," said Rouletabille, "so as to enable you to

  understand, to the various scenes. I myself believe that I have

  discovered what everybody else is searching for, namely, how the

  murderer escaped from The Yellow Room, without any accomplice, and

  without Mademoiselle Stangerson having had anything to do with it.

  But so long as I am not sure of the real murderer, I cannot state


  the theory on which I am working. I can only say that I believe

  it to be correct and, in any case, a quite natural and simple one.

  As to what happened in this place three nights ago, I must say it

  kept me wondering for a whole day and a night. It passes all belief.

  The theory I have formed from the incident is so absurd that I would

  rather matters remained as yet unexplained."

  Saying which the young reporter invited me to go and make the tour

  of the chateau with him. The only sound to be heard was the

  crunching of the dead leaves beneath our feet. The silence was so

  intense that one might have thought the chateau had been abandoned.

  The old stones, the stagnant water of the ditch surrounding the

  donjon, the bleak ground strewn with the dead leaves, the dark,

  skeleton-like outlines of the trees, all contributed to give to the

  desolate place, now filled with its awful mystery, a most funereal

  aspect. As we passed round the donjon, we met the Green Man, the

  forest-keeper, who did not greet us, but walked by as if we had not

  existed. He was looking just as I had formerly seen him through

  the window of the Donjon Inn. He had still his fowling-piece slung

  at his back, his pipe was in his mouth, and his eye-glasses on his

  nose.

  "An odd kind of fish!" Rouletabille said to me, in a low tone.

  "Have you spoken to him?" I asked.

  "Yes, but I could get nothing out of him. His only answers are

  grunts and shrugs of the shoulders. He generally lives on the

  first floor of the donjon, a big room that once served for an

  oratory. He lives like a bear, never goes out without his gun,

  and is only pleasant with the girls. The women, for twelve miles

  round, are all setting their caps for him. For the present, he is

  paying attention to Madame Mathieu, whose husband is keeping a

  lynx eye upon her in consequence."

  After passing the donjon, which is situated at the extreme end of

  the left wing, we went to the back of the chateau. Rouletabille,

  pointing to a window which I recognised as the only one belonging

  to Mademoiselle Stangerson's apartment, said to me:

  "If you had been here, two nights ago, you would have seen your

  humble servant at the top of a ladder, about to enter the chateau

  by that window."

  As I expressed some surprise at this piece of nocturnal gymnastics,

  he begged me to notice carefully the exterior disposition of the

  chateau. We then went back into the building.

  "I must now show you the first floor of the chateau, where I am

  living," said my friend.

  To enable the reader the better to understand the disposition of

  these parts of the dwelling, I annex a plan of the first floor of

  the right wing, drawn by Rouletabille the day after the

  extraordinary phenomenon occurred, the details of which I am about

  to relate.

  ***

  boudoir

  ___ ____ ___________ __________ ________4________ _______ _________ __

  | | | | | |

  | | Mlle. | | Mlle. |___ ___ ___| Mr.

  Lumber |Strangerson's Strangerson's|___ ___ ___|Strangerson's

  | Room | Sitting | | Bed Room |___ ___ ___| Room

  | | Room | |__ __ _____|stair-case |

  | | |bath|anteroom| |

  |_____ ______|____ ______|___|____|___ ___| |______ _____

  |

  2 ------ Right Gallery Right Wing--------- 3 Right Gallery

  Left Wing

  |_________ _____ _________ ______ _______ __ __ __ _________ _____

  |Roulet- | W G |

  |tabille's | I A | Right Wing Left Wing

  | Room N L of the

  |_________ | D L | Chateau

  Frederic | I E |

  |Larsan's N R

  | Room | G Y |

  | |

  |____ ____ | _1_ |

  . 5 .

  . 6 .

  . .

  . . .

  ***

  Rouletabille motioned me to follow him up a magnificent flight of

  stairs ending in a landing on the first floor. From this landing

  one could pass to the right or left wing of the chateau by a gallery

  opening from it. This gallery, high and wide, extended along the

  whole length of the building and was lit from the front of the

  chateau facing the north. The rooms, the windows of which looked

  to the south, opened out of the gallery. Professor Stangerson

  inhabited the left wing of the building. Mademoiselle Stangerson

  had her apartment in the right wing.

  We entered the gallery to the right. A narrow carpet, laid on the

  waxed oaken floor, which shone like glass, deadened the sound of our

  footsteps. Rouletabille asked me, in a low tone, to walk carefully,

  as we were passing the door of Mademoiselle Stangerson's apartment.

  This consisted of a bed-room, an ante-room, a small bath-room, a

  boudoir, and a drawing-room. One could pass from one to another of

  these rooms without having to go by way of the gallery. The gallery

  continued straight to the western end of the building, where it was

  lit by a high window (window 2 on the plan). At about two-thirds of

  its length this gallery, at a right angle, joined another gallery

  following the course of the right wing.

  The better to follow this narrative, we shall call the gallery

  leading from the stairs to the eastern window, the "right" gallery

  and the gallery quitting it at a right angle, the "off-turning"

  gallery (winding gallery in the plan). It was at the meeting point

  of the two galleries that Rouletabille had his chamber, adjoining

  that of Frederic Larsan, the door of each opening on to the

  "off-turning" gallery, while the doors of Mademoiselle Stangerson's

  apartment opened into the "right" gallery. (See the plan.)

  Rouletabille opened the door of his room and after we had passed

  in, carefully drew the bolt. I had not had time to glance round

  the place in which he had been installed, when he uttered a cry of

  surprise and pointed to a pair of eye-glasses on a side-table.

  "What are these doing here?" he asked.

  I should have been puzzled to answer him.

  "I wonder," he said, "I wonder if this is what I have been searching

  for. I wonder if these are the eye-glasses from the presbytery!"

  He seized them eagerly, his fingers caressing the glass. Then

  looking at me, with an expression of terror on his face, he murmured,

  "Oh!--Oh!"

  He repeated the exclamation again and again, as if his thoughts had

  suddenly turned his brain.

  He rose and, putting his hand on my shoulder, laughed like one

  demented as he said:

  "Those glasses will drive me silly! Mathematically speaking the

  thing is possible; but humanly speaking it is impossible--or

  afterwards--or afterwards--"

  Two light knocks struck the door. Rouletabille opened it. A figure

 
entered. I recognised the concierge, whom I had seen when she was

  being taken to the pavilion for examination. I was surprised,

  thinking she was still under lock and key. This woman said in a

  very low tone:

  "In the grove of the parquet."

  Rouletabille replied: "Thanks."--The woman then left. He again

  turned to me, his look haggard, after having carefully refastened

  the door, muttering some incomprehensible phrases.

  "If the thing is mathematically possible, why should it not be

  humanly!--And if it is humanly possible, the matter is simply awful."

  I interrupted him in his soliloquy:

  "Have they set the concierges at liberty, then?" I asked.

  "Yes," he replied, "I had them liberated, I needed people I could

  trust. The woman is thoroughly devoted to me, and her husband would

  lay down his life for me."

  "Oho!" I said, "when will he have occasion to do it?"

  "This evening,--for this evening I expect the murderer."

  "You expect the murderer this evening? Then you know him?"

  "I shall know him; but I should be mad to affirm, categorically, at

  this moment that I do know him. The mathematical idea I have of the

  murderer gives results so frightful, so monstrous, that I hope it is

  still possible that I am mistaken. I hope so, with all my heart!"

  "Five minutes ago, you did not know the murderer; how can you say

  that you expect him this evening?"

  "Because I know that he must come."

  Rouletabille very slowly filled his pipe and lit it. That meant an

  interesting story. At that moment we heard some one walking in the

  gallery and passing before our door. Rouletabille listened. The

  sound of the footstep died away in the distance.

  "Is Frederic Larsan in his room?" I asked, pointing to the partition.

  "No," my friend answered. "He went to Paris this morning,--still

  on the scent of Darzac, who also left for Paris. That matter will

  turn out badly. I expect that Monsieur Darzac will be arrested in

  the course of the next week. The worst of it is that everything

  seems to be in league against him,--circumstances, things, people.

  Not an hour passes without bringing some new evidence against him.

  The examining magistrate is overwhelmed by it--and blind."

  "Frederic Larsan, however, is not a novice," I said.

  "I thought so," said Rouletabille, with a slightly contemptuous turn

  of his lips, "I fancied he was a much abler man. I had, indeed, a

  great admiration for him, before I got to know his method of working.

  It's deplorable. He owes his reputation solely to his ability; but

  he lacks reasoning power,--the mathematics of his ideas are very

  poor."

  I looked closely at Rouletabille and could not help smiling, on

  hearing this boy of eighteen talking of a man who had proved to

  the world that he was the finest police sleuth in Europe.

  "You smile," he said? "you are wrong! I swear I will outwit him

  --and in a striking way! But I must make haste about it, for he has

  an enormous start on me--given him by Monsieur Robert Darzac, who

  is this evening going to increase it still more. Think of it!

  --every time the murderer comes to the chateau, Monsieur Darzac, by

  a strange fatality, absents himself and refuses to give any account

  of how he employs his time."

  "Every time the assassin comes to the chateau!" I cried. "Has he

  returned then--?"

  "Yes, during that famous night when the strange phenomenon occurred."

  I was now going to learn about the astonishing phenomenon to which

  Rouletabille had made allusion half an hour earlier without giving

  me any explanation of it. But I had learned never to press

  Rouletabille in his narratives. He spoke when the fancy took him

  and when he judged it to be right. He was less concerned about my

  curiosity than he was for making a complete summing up for himself

  of any important matter in which he was interested.