Stangerson's 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,
and--other 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 Frederic Larsan, otherwise, of course, he
would not have been allowed to be at the chateau. 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 eye-glasses. 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 says 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 Stangerson's
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 Darzac's
footprints, and have similar boots made for himself. Such tricks
were mere child's 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 chateau 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 chateau. 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
Larsan's 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. Frederic 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
daughter's chamber to pass without arresting him--perhaps 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 escape--if 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 the 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 Epinaysur-Orge, 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 phases--each
separated from the other, in time, by the space of several hours.
One phase in which Mademoiselle Stangerson had really been attacked
--the 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 mutton-bone 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 phase--when the murderer was really there.
All the traces of his presence had naturally been left during the
first phase; the mutton-bone, 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 Stangerson--who desired that nothing should be known
--had 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 re-enter
her chamber till midnight. Daddy Jacques was there at ten o'clock,
as he was every night; but he went in merely to close the blinds
and light the night-light. 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 man's 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, worn-out by anxiety and fear--a 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 night-table 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 shots--one 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 marble-topped 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
self-defence, 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 mutton-bone, 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 hair--a 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
blood--a tiny stain--hardly 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 still had 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 o'clock. 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 professor's 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 re-enter
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 mind's eye I saw Mademoiselle
Stangerson re-enter 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 Jacques's 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 Stangerson
--alone. 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 night-table, since she had come to
fear the threats of her pursuer. The murderer was about to strike
her on the head with the mutton-bone--a 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 support--imprinting on it the red marks--and, 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