 CHAPTER 19 OF THE MYSTERY OF THE JELLOW ROOM This is a LibriVox recording, or LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more free audiobooks or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Reading by Lars Rolander THE MYSTERY OF THE JELLOW ROOM by Gaston Leroux CHAPTER XIX Roletta Bill invites me to breakfast at the Don John Inn. It was not until later that Roletta Bill sent me the notebook in which he had written at length the story of the phenomenon of the inexplicable gallery. On the day I arrived at the glandier and joined him in his room, he recounted to me with the greatest detail all that I have now related, telling me also how he had spent several hours in Paris, where he had learnt nothing that could be of any help to him. The event of the inexplicable gallery had occurred on the night between the 29th and 30th of October, that is to say, three days before my return to the Chateau. It was on the 2nd of November, then, that I went back to the glandier, summoned there by my friend's telegram, and taking the revolvers with me. I am now in Roletta Bill's room, and he has finished his recital. While he had been telling me the story, I noticed him continually rubbing the glass of the eyeglasses he had found on the side table. From the evident pleasure he was taking in handling them, I felt they must be one of those sensible evidences destined to enter what he had called the circle of the right end of his reason. That strange and unique way of his to express himself in terms wonderfully adequate for his thoughts no longer surprised me. It was often necessary to know his thought to understand the terms he used, and it was not easy to penetrate into Roletta Bill's thinking. This lad's brain was one of the most curious things I have ever observed. Roletta Bill went on the even tenor of his way without suspecting the astonishment and even bewilderment he roused in others. I am sure he was not himself in the least conscious of the originality of his genius. He was himself and at ease wherever he happened to be. When he had finished his recital, he asked me what I thought of it. I replied that I was much puzzled by his question. Then he begged me to try in my turn to take my reason in hand by the right end. Very well, I said, it seems to me that the point of departure of my reason would be this. There can be no doubt that the murderer you pursued was in the gallery. I paused. After making so good a start, you ought not to stop so soon, he exclaimed. Come, make another effort. I'll try. Since he disappeared from the gallery without passing through any door or window, he must have escaped by some other opening. Roulette-A-Bille looked at me pittingly, smiled carelessly, and remarked that I was reasoning like a postman or like Frederick Larson. Roulette-A-Bille had alternate fits of admiration and disdain for the great Fred. It all depended as to whether Larson's discoveries tallied with Roulette-A-Bille's reasoning or not. When they did, he would exclaim, He is really great. When they did not, he would grunt and mutter, what an ass! It was a petty side of the noble character of this strange youth. We had risen and he led me into the park. When we reached the court and were making towards the gate, the sound of blinds thrown back against the wall made us turn our heads, and we saw at a window on the first floor of the château the ruddy and clean shaven face of a person I did not recognize. Hello! muttered Roulette-A-Bille, Arthur Rance. He lowered his head, quickened his pace, and I heard him ask himself between his teeth. Was he in the château that night? What is he doing here? We had gone some distance from the château when I asked him who this Arthur Rance was and how he had come to know him. He referred to his story of that morning, and I remembered that Mr. Arthur W. Rance was the American from Philadelphia with whom he had had so many drinks at the LEC reception. But was he not to have left France almost immediately? I asked. No doubt that's why I'm surprised to find him here still and not only in France but above all at the Glanger. He did not arrive this morning, and he did not get here last night. He must have got here before dinner then. Why didn't the concierge's tell me? I reminded my friend, apropos the concierge's, that he had not yet told me what had led him to get them set at Liberty. We were close to their lodge. Monsieur and Madame Bernier saw us coming, and Frank smiled it up their happy faces. They seemed to harbor no ill feeling because of their detention. My young friend asked them at what hour Mr. Arthur Rance had arrived. They answered that they did not know he was at the château. He must have come during the evening of the previous night, but they had not had to open the gate for him because being a great walker and not wishing that a carriage should be sent to meet him, he was accustomed to get off at the little hamlet of Saint Michel, from which he came to the château by way of the forest. He reached the park by the grotto of Saint Geneviève over the little gate of which, giving on to the park, he climbed. As the concierge's spoke, I saw Roulettebille's face cloud over and exhibit disappointment, a disappointment no doubt with himself. Evidently he was a little vexed after having worked so much on the spot, with so minute a study of the people and events at the Glendier, that he had to learn now that Arthur Rance was accustomed to visit the château. You say that M. Arthur Rance is accustomed to come to the château? When did he come here last? We can't tell you exactly, replied Mme. Banier. That was the name of the concierge. We couldn't know while they were keeping us in prison. Besides, as the gentleman comes to the château without passing through our gate, he goes away by the way he comes. Do you know when he came the first time? Oh yes, M. Sir, nine years ago. He was in France nine years ago then, said Roulettebille. And since that time, as far as you know, how many times has he been at the Glendier? Three times. When did he come the last time, as far as you know? A week before the attempt in the yellow room. Roulettebille put another question, this time addressing himself particularly to the woman. In the grove of the parquette? In the grove of the parquette, replied. Thanks, said Roulettebille. Be ready for me this evening. He spoke the last words with a finger on his lips as if to command silence and discretion. We left the park and took the way to the donjon inn. Do you often eat here? Sometimes. But you also take your meals at the château? Yes, Larsan and I are sometimes served in one of our rooms. Hasn't M. Stanjerson ever invited you to his own table? Never. Does your presence at the château displease him? I don't know, but in any case he does not make us feel that we are in his way. Doesn't he question you? Never. He is in the same state of mind as he was in at the door of the yellow room when his daughter was being murdered and when he broke open the door and did not find the murderer. He is persuaded since he could discover nothing that there is no reason why we should be able to discover more than he did, but he has made it his duty since Larsan expressed his theory not to oppose us. Roletta Bill buried himself in thought again for some time. He roused himself later to tell me of how he came to set the two concierges free. I went recently to see M. Stanjerson and took with me a piece of paper on which was written. I promise whatever others may say to keep in my service my two faithful servants, Bernier and his wife. I explained to him that by signing that document he would enable me to compel those two people to speak out, and I declared my own assurance of their innocence of any part in the crime. That was also his opinion. The examining magistrate after it was signed presented the document to the Berniers who then did speak. They said what I was certain they would say as soon as they were sure they would not lose their place. They confessed to poaching on M. Stanjerson's estates, and it was while they were poaching on the night of the crime that they were found not far from the pavilion at the moment when the outrage was being committed. Some rabbis they caught in that way were sold by them to the landlord of the Donjon Inn who served them to his customers or sent them to Paris. That was the truth as I had guessed from the first. Do you remember what I said on entering the Donjon Inn? We shall have to eat red meat now. I had heard the words on the morning when we arrived at the park gate. You heard them also, but you did not attach any importance to them. You recollect when we reached the park gate that we stopped to look at the man who was running by the side of the wall, looking every minute at his watch? That was Larsson. Well, behind us the landlord of the Donjon Inn, standing on his doorstep, said to someone inside, we shall have to eat red meat now. Why that now? When you are as I am, in search of some hidden secret, you can't afford to have anything escape you. You've got to know the meaning of everything. We had come into a rather out of the way part of the country, which had been turned topsy-turvy by the crime, and my reason led me to suspect every phrase that could bear upon the event of the day. Now, I took to mean since the outrage. In the course of my inquiry, therefore, I sought to find a relation between that phrase and the tragedy. We went to the Donjon Inn for breakfast. I repeated the phrase and saw, by the surprise and trouble on Daddy Matthew's face, that I had not exaggerated its importance so far as he was concerned. I had just learned that the concierges had been arrested. Daddy Matthew spoke of them as of dear friends, people for whom one is sorry. That was a reckless conjunction of ideas, I said to myself. Now that the concierges are arrested, we shall have to eat red meat. No more concierges, no more game? The hatred expressed by Daddy Matthew for Monsieur Stangerson's Forest Keeper, a hatred he pretended was shared by the concierges, led me easily to think of poaching. Now, as all the evidence showed, the concierges had not been in the bed at the time of the tragedy. Why were they abroad that night? As participants in the crime? I was not disposed to think so. I had already arrived at the conclusion, by steps of which I will tell you later, that the assassin had had no accomplice, and that the tragedy held a mystery between Mademoiselle Stangerson and the murderer, a mystery with which the concierges had nothing to do. With that's theory in mind, I searched for proof in their lodge, which as you know I entered. I found there under their bed some springs and brass wire. Ah, I thought. These things explain why they were out in the park at night. I was not surprised at the dogged silence they maintained before the examining magistrate, even under the accusation so grave as that of being accomplices in the crime. Poaching would save them from the assay escort. It would lose them their places, and as they were perfectly sure of their innocence of the crime, they hoped it would soon be established, and then their poaching might go on as usual. They could always confess later. I, however, hastened their confession by means of the document M. Stangerson signed. They gave all the necessary proofs, were set at liberty, and have now a lively gratitude for me. Why did I not get them released sooner? Of course I was not sure that nothing more than poaching was against them. I wanted to study the ground. As the days went by, my conviction became more and more certain. The day after the events of the inexplicable gallery, I had need of help I could rely on, so I resolved to have them released at once. That was how Joseph Rouletteville explained himself. Once more I could not but be astonished at the simplicity of the reasoning which had brought him to the truth of the matter. Certainly this was no big thing, but I think myself that the young man will one of these days explain with the same simplicity the fearful tragedy in the Dello room as well as the phenomenon of the inexplicable gallery. We reached the Don John Inn and entered it. This time we did not see the landlord, but were received with a pleasant smile by the hostess. I have already described the room in which we found ourselves, and I have given a glimpse of the charming blonde woman with the gentle eyes who now immediately began to prepare our breakfast. House Daddy Mathieu asked Rouletteville, Not much better, not much better. He is still confined to his bed. His rheumatism still sticks to him then. Yes, last night I was again obliged to give him morphine, the only drug that gives him any relief. She spoke in a soft voice. Everything about her expressed gentleness. Indeed a beautiful woman, somewhat with an air of indolence, with great eyes, seemingly black and blue, amorous eyes. Was she happy with her crabbed rheumatic husband? The scene at which we had once been present did not lead us to believe that she was, yet there was something in her bearing that was not suggestive of despair. She disappeared into the kitchen to prepare our repost, leaving on the table a bottle of excellent cider. Rouletteville filled our earthenware jmugs, loaded his pipe, and quietly explained to me his reason for asking me to come to the glandure with revolvers. Yes, he said contemplatively, looking at the clouds of smoke he was puffing out. Yes, my dear boy, I expect the assassin to night. A brief silence followed which I took care not to interrupt, and then he went on. Last night, just as I was going to bed, Monsieur Robert Darzak knocked at my room. When he came in he confided to me that he was compelled to go to Paris the next day, that is, this morning. The reason which made this journey necessary was at once peremptory and mysterious. It was not possible for him to explain its object to me. I go, and yet he added, I would give my life not to leave Mademoiselle Stangerson at this moment. He did not try to hide that he believed her to be once more in danger. It will not greatly astonish me if something happens tomorrow night, he avowed, and yet I must be absent. I cannot be back at the glandure before the morning of the day after tomorrow. I asked him to explain himself, and this is all he would tell me. His anticipation of coming danger had come to him solely from the coincidence that Mademoiselle Stangerson had been twice attacked, and both times when he had been absent. On the night of the incident of the inexplicable gallery he had been obliged to be away from the glandure. On the night of the tragedy in the jello room he had also not been able to be at the glandure, though this was the first time he had declared himself on the matter. Now a man so moved who would still go away must be acting under compulsion, must be obeying a will stronger than his own. That was how I reasoned, and I told him so. He replied, Perhaps, I asked him if Mademoiselle Stangerson was compelling him. He protested that she was not. His determination to go to Paris had been taken without any conference with Mademoiselle Stangerson. To cut the story short he repeated that his belief in the possibility of a fresh attack was founded entirely on the extraordinary coincidence. If anything happens to Mademoiselle Stangerson, he said, it would be terrible for both of us. For her because her life would be in danger, for me because I could neither defend her from the attack nor tell her where I had been. I am perfectly aware of the suspicions cast on me. The examining magistrate and Monsieur Larson are both on the point of believing in my guilt. Larson tracked me the last time I went to Paris, and I had all the trouble in the world to get rid of him. Why do you not tell me the name of the murderer now? If you know it, I cried. Monsieur Darzac appeared extremely troubled by my question and replied to me in a hesitating tone. I? I know the name of the murderer? Why, how could I know his name? I at once replied, from Mademoiselle Stangerson. He grows so pale that I thought he was about to faint, and I saw that I had hit the nail right on the head. Mademoiselle and he knew the name of the murderer. When he recovered himself, he said to me, I am going to leave you. Since you have been here, I have appreciated your exceptional intelligence and your unequaled ingenuity. But I ask this service of you. Perhaps I am wrong to fear an attack during the coming night. But as I must act with foresight, I count on you to frustrate any attempt that may be made. Take every step needful to protect Mademoiselle Stangerson. Keep a most careful watch over room. Don't go to sleep, nor allow yourself one moment of repose. The man we dread is remarkably cunning, with a cunning that has never been equal. If you keep watch, his very cunning may save her, because it's impossible that he should not know that you are watching, and knowing it, he may not venture. Have you spoken of all this to Monsieur Stangerson? No, I do not wish him to ask me as you just now did for the name of the murderer. I tell you all this, Monsieur Roulatabil, because I have great, very great confidence in you. I know that you do not suspect me. The poor man spoke in jerks. He was evidently suffering. I pitted him the more because I felt sure that he would rather allow himself to be killed than tell me who the murderer was. As for Mademoiselle Stangerson, I felt that she would rather allow herself to be murdered than to denounce the man of the Jello Room and of the inexplicable gallery. The man must be dominating her, or both, by some inscrutable power. They were dreading nothing so much as the chance of Monsieur Stangerson knowing that his daughter was held by her assailant. I made Monsieur Darzak understand that he had explained himself sufficiently, and that he might refrain from telling me any more than he had already told me. I promised him to watch through the night. He insisted that I should establish an absolutely impossible barrier around Mademoiselle Stangerson's chamber, around the Boudoir where the nurses were sleeping, and around the drawing room where, since the affair of the inexplicable gallery, Monsieur Stangerson had slept. In short, I was to put a cordon around the whole apartment. From his insistence I gathered that Monsieur Darzak intended not only to make it impossible for the expected man to reach the chamber of Mademoiselle Stangerson, but to make that impossibility so visibly clear that, seeing himself expected, he would at once go away. That was how I interpreted his final words when we parted. You may mention your suspicion of the expected attack to Monsieur Stangerson, to Darzak, to Frédéric Lassan, and to anybody in the château. The poor fellow left me hardly knowing what he was saying. My silence and my eyes told him that I had guessed a large part of his secret, and indeed he must have been at his wit's end to have come to me at such a time, and to abandon Mademoiselle Stangerson in spite of his fixed idea as to the consequence. When he was gone I began to think that I should have to use even a greater cunning than his, so that if the man should come that night he might not for a moment suspect that his coming had been expected. Certainly I would allow him to get in far enough so that, dead or alive, I might see his face clearly. He must be got rid of. Mademoiselle Stangerson must be freed from this continual impending danger. Yes, my boy said Rudehtabil after placing his pipe on the table and emptying his mug of cider. I must see his face distinctly so as to make sure to impress it on that part of my brain where I have drawn my circle of reasoning. The landlady reappeared at that moment, bringing in the traditional bacon omelet. Rudehtabil chaffed her a little, and she took the chaff with the most charming good humour. She is much jollier when Daddy Matthew is in bed with his rheumatism, Rudehtabil said to me. But I had eyes neither for Rudehtabil nor for the landlady's smiles. I was entirely absorbed of the last words of my young friend, and in thinking over Monsieur Hobard I sucked strange behaviour. When he had finished his omelet, and we were again alone, Rudehtabil continued the tale of his confidences. When I sent you my telegram this morning, he said, I had only the word of Monsieur Dassac that perhaps the assassin would come tonight. I can now say that he will certainly come. I expect him. What has made you feel this certainty? I have been sure since half past ten o'clock this morning that he would come. I know that before we saw Arthur Rance at the window in the court. Ah, I said. But again what made you so sure? And why since half past ten this morning? Because at half past ten I had proof that Mademoiselle Stangerson was making as many efforts to permit of the murderer's entrance as Monsieur Robert Dassac had been taken precautions against it. Is that possible? I cried. Haven't you told me that Mademoiselle Stangerson loves Monsieur Robert Dassac? I told you so, because it is the truth. Then do you see nothing strange? Everything in this business is strange, my friend. But take my word for it. The strangeness you now feel is nothing to the strangeness that's to come. It must be admitted then, I said, that Mademoiselle Stangerson and her murderer are in communication, at any rate in writing. Admit it, my friend, admit it. You don't risk anything. I told you about the letter left on her table on the night of the inexplicable gallery affair, the letter that disappeared into the pocket of Mademoiselle Stangerson. Why should it not have been a summons to a meeting? Might he not, as soon as he was sure of Dassac's absence, appoint the meeting for the coming night? And my friend laughed silently. There are moments when I ask myself if he is not laughing at me. The door of the inn opened. Roletta Bill was on his feet so suddenly that one might have thought he had received an electric shock. Mr Arthur Rance, he cried. Mr Arthur Rance stood before us, calmly bowing. End of chapter 19, read by Lars Rolander. Chapter 20 of The Mystery of the Yellow Room This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more free audiobooks or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Tag Nugent. The Mystery of the Yellow Room by Gaston Larou. Chapter 20. Night of Maudemoiselle Stangerson. You remember me, Monsiwa? Asked Roletta Bill. Perfectly, replied Arthur Rance, I recognize you as the lad at the bar. The fests of Roletta Bill crimson had been called the lad. I want to shake hands with you. You are a bright little fellow. The American extended his hand and Roletta Bill, relaxing his frown, shook it and introduced Mr Arthur Rance to me. He invited him to share our meal. No thanks. I breakfasted with Monsiwa Stangerson. Arthur Rance spoke French perfectly, almost without an accent. I did not expect to have the pleasure of seeing you again, Monsiwa. I thought you were to have left France the day after the reception at the Elysees. Roletta Bill and I, outwardly indifferent, listened most intently for every word the American would say. The man's purplish red face, his healthy eyelids, the nervous twitchings, all spoke of his addiction to drink. How came it that so sorry a specimen of a man should be so intimate with Monsiwa Stangerson? Some days later, I learned from Frédéric Larsen, who, like ourselves, was surprised and was defined by his appearance and reception at the Chateau, that Mr Rance had been an iniquity for only about 15 years. That is to say, seen the professor and his daughter left Philadelphia. During the time the Stangersens lived in America, they were very intimate with Arthur Rance, who was one of the most distinguished phrenologists of the New World. Owing to new experiments, he had met enormous strides beyond the science of gall and lavator. The friendliness with which he was received at the Glendia may be explained by the fact that he had once rendered Martin Moselle Stangerson a great service by stopping at the peril of his all life, the runaway horses of her carriage. The immediate result of that good, however, had been no more than a mere friendly association with the Stangersens, certainly not a love affair. Frédéric Larsen did not tell me where he had picked up this information, but he appeared to be quite sure of what he said. Had we known this fact at the time Arthur Rance matters at the Dondon Inn, his appearance at the Chateau might not have puzzled us, but they could not have failed to increase our interest in the man himself. The American must have been at least 45 years old. He spoke in a perfectly natural tone in reply to Rutherbill's question. I put off my return to America when I heard of the attack on Martin Moselle Stangerson. I wanted to be certain the lady had not been killed and I shall not go away until she is perfectly recovered. Arthur Rance then took the lead in talk, paying no heed to some of Rutherbill's questions. He gave us, without our inviting him, his personal views on the subject of the tragedy, views which, as well as I could make out, were not far from those held by Frédéric Larsen. The American also thought that Robert Dazock had something to do with the matter. He did not mention him by name, but there was no room to doubt whom he meant. He told us he was aware of the efforts that Rutherbill was making to unravel the tangled skin of the yellow room mystery. He explained that Moselle Stangerson had related to him all that had taken place in the inexplicable gallery. He several times expressed his regret at Moselle Dazock's absent from the chateau on all these occasions and thought that Moselle Dazock had done cleverly in allying himself with Moselle Joseph Rutherbill who could not fail sooner or later to discover the murderer. He spoke the last sentence with unconcealed irony. Then he rose, bowed to us, and laughed the inn. Rutherbill watched him through the window. An odd fish, that he said. Do you think he will pass the night at the Glendier? I asked. To my amazement, the young reporter answered that it was a matter of entire indifference to him whether he did or not. As to how we spent our time during the afternoon, all I need to say is that Rutherbill led me to the grotto of Saint Genevieve and all the time talked of every subject but the one in which we were most interested. To watch evening, I was surprised to find Rutherbill making none of the preparations I had expected him to make. I spoke to him about it when night had come on and we were once more in his room. He replied that all his arrangements had already been made and this time the murderer would not get away from him. I expressed some doubt on this, reminding him of his disappearance in the gallery and suggested that the same phenomenon might occur again. He answered that he hoped it would. He desired nothing more. I did not insist knowing by experience how useless that would have been. He told me that with the help of the concierges the chateau has seen early dawn been watched in such a way that nobody could approach it without his knowing it and that he had no concern for those who might have left it and remained without. It was then six o'clock by his watch rising. He made a sign to me to follow him and without in the least trying to conceal his movements or the sound of his footsteps, he led me through the gallery. We reached the right gallery and came to the landing place which we crossed. We then continued our way in the gallery of the left wing passing Professor Stengerson's apartment. At the far end of the gallery before coming to the dungeon is the room occupied by Arthur Runes. We knew that because we had seen him at the window looking on to the court, the door of the room opens on to the end of the gallery exactly facing the east window at the extremity of the right gallery where Ruleta Bill had placed Daddy Jocker and commands an uninterrupted view of the gallery from end to end of the chateau. That off-turning gallery said Ruleta Bill, I reserve for myself. When I tell you, you'll come and take your place here. And he made me enter a little dark triangular closet built in a band of the world to the left of the door of Arthur Runes' room. From this recess I could see all that occurred in the gallery as well as if I had been standing in front of Arthur Runes' door and I could watch that door too. The door of the closet which was to be my place of observation was fitted with panels of transparent glass. In the gallery where all the lamps had been lit, it was quite light. In the closet, however, it was quite dark. It was a splendid place from which to observe and remain unobserved. I was soon to play the part of a spy, a common policeman. I wonder what my leader of the bar would have said had he known. I was not altogether pleased with my duties, but I could not refuse Ruleta Bill the assistance he had backed me to give him. I took care not to make him see that I in the least objected. And for several reasons. I wanted to oblige him. I did not wish him to think me a coward. I was filled with curiosity. And it was too late for me to draw back, even had I determined to do so. That I had not had this scruple sooner was because my curiosity had quite got the better of me. I might also urge that I was helping to save the life of a woman and even the lawyer may do that consensiously. We returned along the gallery on reaching the door of Mother Moselle Stangerson's apartment. It opened from a push given by the steward who was waiting at the dinner table. Monseo Stangerson had for the last three days dined with his daughter in the drawing room on the first floor. As the door remained open we distinctly saw Mother Moselle Stangerson taking advantage of the steward's absence and why her father was stooping to pick up something he had left for pour the contents of a file into Monseo Stangerson's class. End of Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Of the Mystery of the Yellow Room This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more free audiobooks or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org The Mystery of the Yellow Room by Gaston Le Roue Chapter 21 On the Watch The act, which staggered me, did not affear to affect Rue-Tébille much. We returned to his room and without even referring to what we had seen he gave me his final instructions for the night. First we were to go to dinner. After dinner I was to take my stand in the dark closet and wait there as long as it was necessary to look out for what might happen. If you see anything before I do, he explained, you must let me know if the man gets into the right gallery by any other way than the off-turning gallery you will see him before I shall because you have a view along the whole length of the right gallery. I can only command a view of the off-turning gallery. All you need to do to let me know is to undo the cord holding the curtain of the right gallery window nearest to the dark closet. The curtain will fall of itself and immediately leave a square of shadow where previously there had been a square of light. To do this you need to stretch your hand out of the closet. I shall understand your signal perfectly. And then? Then you will see me coming round the corner of the off-turning gallery. What am I to do then? You will immediately come towards me, behind the man, but I shall already be upon him and shall have seen his face. I attempted a feeble smile. Why do you smile? Well, you may smile while you have the chance but I swear you'll have no time for that a few hours from now. And if the man escapes? So much the better, said Ruth to be a coolly. I don't want to capture him. He may take himself off any way he can. I will let him go after I have seen his face. That's all I want. I shall know afterwards what to do so that as far as Mademoiselle Strangerson is concerned he shall be dead to her even though he continues to live. If I took him alive Mademoiselle Strangerson and Robert Darzak would perhaps never forgive me and I wish to retain their goodwill and respect. Seeing as I have just now seen Mademoiselle Strangerson pour a narcotic into her father's glass so he might not be awaked to interrupt the conversation she is going to have with her murderer. You can imagine she would not be grateful to me if I brought the man of the yellow room and the inexplicable gallery bound and gagged to her father. I realize now that if I am to save the unhappy woman I must silence the man and not capture him. Tequila human being is no small thing. Besides, that's not my business unless the man himself makes it my business. On the other hand to render him forever silent without the lady's assent and confidence is to act on one's own initiative and assume a knowledge of everything with nothing for a basis. Fortunately, my friend, I have guessed no, I have reasoned it all out. All that I ask of the man who is coming tonight is to bring me his face so that it may enter into the circle? Exactly. And his face won't surprise me. But I thought you saw his face on the night when you sprang into the chamber. Only imperfectly. The candle was on the floor and his beard. Will he wear his beard this evening? I think I can now say for certain he will. But the gallery is light and now I know or at least my brain knows and my eyes will see. If we are here only to see him and let him escape, why are we armed? Because if the man of the yellow room and the inexplicable gallery knows that I know he is capable of doing anything, we should then have to defend ourselves. And you're sure he'll come tonight? As sure as you are standing there. This morning at half past ten o'clock Madden was Alstranderson in the cleverest way in the world arranged to have no nurses tonight. She gave them leave of absence for twenty-four hours under some plausible pretext and did not desire anyone to be with her but her father. Well, they are away, of course. Her father, who is to sleep in the boudoir, has gladly consented to the arrangement. Das acts departure and what he told me as well as the extraordinary precaution Madden was Alstranderson is taking to be alone tonight. Leave me no room for doubt. She has prepared the way to exact dreads. That's awful. It is. And what we saw her do was done to send her father to sleep? Yes. Then there are but two of us for tonight's work. Four. The concierge and his wife will watch at all hazards. I don't set much value on them before but the concierge may be useful after if there are to be any killings. And do you think there may be? If he wishes it. Why haven't you brought in Daddy Jacques? Have you made no use of him today? No. replied Roul-Taboul sharply. I kept silent for a while then. Anxious to know his thoughts. I asked him point blank. Why not tell Arthur Rantz he may be of great assistance to us. Oh! Said Roul-Taboul. Said Roul-Taboul crossly. Then you want to let everyone into Mademoiselle Strandersen's secrets? Come. Let us go to dinner. It is time. This evening we dine in Frederick LaSalle's room. At least if he is not on the heels of Darzac. He sticks to him like a leech. But anyhow if he is not there now I am quite sure he will be tonight. He is the one I am going to knock over. At this moment we heard a noise in the room near us. It must be he. Said Roul-Taboul. I forgot to ask you. I said if we are to make any allusion to tonight's business when we are with this policeman I take it we are not. Is that so? Evidently we are going to operate alone on our own personal account so that all the glory will be ours. Roul-Taboul laughs. We dine with Frederick LaSalle in his room. He told us he had just come in and invited us to be seated at the table. We ate our dinner in the best of humours and I had no difficulty in appreciating the feelings of certainty which both Roul-Taboul and LaSalle felt. Roul-Taboul told the great Fred that I had come on a chance visit and that he had asked me to stay and help him and the heavy batch of writing that he had done. I was going back to Paris he said by the eleven o'clock train taking his copy which took a story form recounting the principal episodes in the Mysteries of the Gladié LaSalle smiled at the explanation like a man who was not fooled and politely refrains from making the slightest remarks on matters which did not concern him. With infinite precautions as to the words they used and even as to the tone of their voices Roul-Taboul discussed for a long time Mr. Arthur rents his appearance at the château and his past in America about which they expressed a desire to know more at any rate as far as his relation to the Strangersons. One time LaSalle who appeared to me to be unwell said with an effort I think Mr. Roul-Taboul that we have not much more to do at the Gladié and we shan't sleep here Mr. Fred then you think the conclusion of the matter has been reached I think indeed that we have nothing more to find out replied Roul-Taboul have you found your criminal asked LaSalle have you yes so have I said Roul-Taboul can it be the same man I don't know if you have swerved the original idea said the young reporter then he added with emphasis Mr. Darzak is an honest man are you sure of that asked LaSalle well I am sure he is not so it's a fight then yes it is a fight but I shall beat you Mr. Frederick LaSalle you've never doubts anything said the great Fred laughingly his hand to me by way of conclusion Roul-Taboul's answer came like an echo not anything suddenly LaSalle who had risen to wish us good night pressed both his hands to his chest and staggered he was obliged to lean on Roul-Taboul for support and to save himself from falling oh oh he cried what's the matter with me have I been poisoned he looked at us with haggard eyes we questioned him vainly he did not answer us he had sunk into an armchair and we could get not a word from him we were extremely distressed both on his account and our own for we had partaken in all the dishes he had eaten he seemed to be out of pain but his heavy head had fallen on his shoulders and his eyelids were tightly closed Roul-Taboul bent over him listening for the beatings of his heart my friend's face however when I stood up was as calm as it had been a moment before agitated he is asleep he said he led me to his chamber after closing LaSalle's room the drug I asked does men was Elf Strangerson wish to put everybody to sleep tonight perhaps replied Roul-Taboul but I could see he was thinking of something else we have not been drugged do you feel indisposed? Roul-Taboul asked me coolly not in the least do you feel any inclination to go to sleep? none whatsoever well then my friend smoked this excellent cigar and he handed me a choice Havana the one Monsieur Darsac had given him while he lit his briar wood his eternal briar wood we remained in his room until about ten o'clock without a word passing between us buried in an armchair Roul-Taboul sat and smoked steadily his brow and thought and a fireway look in his eyes on the stroke of ten he took off his boots and signaled to me to do the same as we stood in our socks he said in so low a tone that I guessed a revolver I drew my revolver from my jacket pocket cock it he said I did as he directed then moving towards the door of his room he opened it with infinite precaution it made no sound we were in the off turning gallery Roul-Taboul made another sign to me which I understood to mean that I was to take up my post in the dark closet when I was some distance away from him he looked at me and embraced me and then I saw him with the same precaution returned to his room astonished by his embrace and somewhat disquieted by it I arrived at the right gallery without difficulty crossing the landing place and reaching the dark closet before entering it I examined the curtain rod of the window and found that I only had to release it from its fascinating with my fingers and hide the square of light from Roul-Taboul the signal agreed upon the sound of a footstep made me halt before Arthur Rance's door he was not yet in bed then how strange was it that being in the chateau he had not dined with Mr. Strangerson and his daughter I had not seen him at the table with them at the moment when we looked in I retired into the dark closet I found myself perfectly situated I could see along the whole length of the gallery nothing, absolutely nothing could pass there without my seeing it but what was going to pass there Roul-Taboul's embrace came back to my mind I argued that people don't part from each other other in that way unless it's on an important or dangerous occasion was I then in danger my hand closed on the butt of my revolver and I waited I am not a hero neither am I a coward I waited about an hour and during all that time I saw nothing unusual the rain which had begun to come down strongly towards nine o'clock had now ceased my friend had told me that probably nothing would occur before midnight or one o'clock in the morning it was not more than half past eleven however when I heard the door of Arthur Rance's room opened very slowly the door made open for a minute which seemed to me a long time as it opened into the gallery that is to say outwards I could not see what was passing in the room behind the door at that moment I noticed a strange sound three times repeated coming from the park ordinarily I should not have attached any more importance to it than I would to the noise of cats on the roof but the third time the me was so sharp and penetrating I could not identify of the bent de volme dieu as the cry had accompanied all the events at the Gladié I could not refrain from shuddering at the thought directly afterwards I saw a man appear on the outside of the door and it closed it after him at first I could not easily recognize him for his back was towards me and he was bending over a rather bulky package when he had closed the door and picked up the package he turned towards the dark closet and then I saw who he was it was the forest keeper the green man he was wearing the same costume he had worn the first time I saw him on the road in front of the Don John In there was no doubt about him being the keeper when the cry of the bent de volme dieu came for the third time he put down the package and went to the second window counting from the dark closet I dared not risk making any movement fearing I might betray my presence arriving at the window he peered out onto the park the night was now light the moon showing at intervals the green man raised his arms twice making signs which I did not understand then, leaving the window he took up his package and moved along the gallery towards the landing place Rue Wiel had instructed me to undo the curtain cord when I saw anything was Rue Wiel expecting this it was not my business to question all I had to do was obey instructions I unfastened the window cord my heart beating all the while as if it would burst the man reached the landing place but to my utter surprise I had expected to see him continue to pass along the gallery I saw him descend the stairs leading to the vestibule what was I to do? I looked stupidly at the heavy curtain which had shut the light from the window the signal had been given and I did not see Rue Wiel appear at the corner of the off turning gallery nobody appeared I was exceedingly perplexed half an hour passed an age to me what was I to do now even if I did see something the signal was already given and I could not give it a second time to venture into the gallery might have set all of Rue Wiel's plans after all I had done nothing to reproach myself for and if something had happened that my friend had not expected he could only blame himself unable to be of any further assistance to him by means of a signal I left the dark closet and still in my socks made my way to the off turning gallery there was no one there I went to the door of Rue Wiel's room and listened I could hear nothing I knocked gently there was no answer I turned the door handle and the door opened I entered Rue Wiel lay extended at full length on the floor end of chapter 21 recorded by O chapter 22 of the mystery of the yellow room this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more free audiobooks or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org recording by Simon Lauer the mystery of the yellow room by Gaston Leroux chapter 22 the incredible body I bent in great anxiety over the body of the reporter and had the joy to find that he was deeply sleeping the same unhealthy sleep that I had seen fall upon Frederick Lacan he had succumbed to the influence of the same drug that had been mixed with our food how was it then that I also had not been overcome by it I reflected that the drug must have been put into our wine because that would explain my condition I never drink when eating naturally inclined to obesity I am restricted to a dry diet I shook Ruta B but could not succeed in waking him this no doubt was the work of Mademoiselle St-Jean she had certainly thought it necessary to guard herself against this young man as well as her father I recalled that the steward in serving us had recommended an excellent chablis which no doubt had come from the professor's table I resolved under the pressing circumstances to resort to extreme measures I threw a picture of cold water over Ruta B's head he opened his eyes I beat his face and raised him up I felt him stiffen in my arms and heard him murmur go on, go on but don't make any noise I pinched him and shook him until he was able to stand up we were saved they sent me to sleep ugh I passed an awful quarter of an hour before giving way but it is over now don't leave me he had no sooner uttered those words than we were thrilled by a frightful cry that rang through the chateau a veritable death cry Malheur Ruta B he tried to rush to the door but he was two days and fell against the wall rushing like a madman towards Mademoiselle Stageson's room the moment I arrived at the intersection of the off-turning gallery and the right gallery I saw a figure leaving her apartment which in a few strides had reached the landing place I was not master of myself I fired the report from the revolver made a deafening noise but the man continued his flight down the stairs I ran behind him shouting I WILL KILL YOU as I rushed after him down the stairs I came face to face with Arthur Rantz coming from the left wing of the chateau yelling we arrived almost at the same time at the foot of the staircase the window at the vestibule was open we distinctly saw the form of a man running away instinctively we fired our revolvers in his direction he was not more than ten paces in front of us he staggered and we thought he was going to fall into the window but the man dashed off with a renewed vigor I was in my socks and the American was barefooted there being no hope of overtaking him we fired our last cartridges at him but he still kept on running going along the right side of the court towards the end of the right wing of the chateau which had no other outlet than the door of the little chamber occupied by the forest keeper the man though he was evidently wounded by our bullets was now twenty yards ahead of us a window in the gallery opened and we heard the voice of Ruta B crying out desperately fire Bernier fire at that moment the clear moonlit night was further lit by a broad flash by its light we saw Daddy Bernier with his gun on the threshold of the donjon door he had taken good aim the shadow fell but as it had reached the end of the right wing of the chateau it fell on the other side of the angle of the building that is to say we saw it about to fall but not the actual sinking to the ground Bernier, Arthur Rantz and myself reached the other side twenty seconds later the shadow was lying dead at our feet aroused from his lethargy by the cries and reports Lausanne opened the window of his chamber and called out to us Ruta B, quite awake now joined us at the same moment and I cried out to him he is dead so much the better he said take him into the vestibule of the chateau then as if on second thought he said no, no let us put him in his own room Ruta B knocked at the door nobody answered naturally this did not surprise me he is evidently not there otherwise he would have come out said the reporter let us carry him to the vestibule then since reaching the dead shadow a thick cloud had covered the moon and darkened the night so that we were unable to make out the features Daddy Jacques who had now joined us helped us to carry the body into the vestibule where we laid it down on the lower step of the stairs on the way I felt my hands wet from the warm blood flowing from the wounds Daddy Jacques flew to the kitchen and returned with a lantern he held it close to the face of the dead shadow and we recognised the keeper the man called by the landlord of the Donjonin the green man whom in an hour earlier I had seen come out of Arthur Runtz's chamber carrying a parcel but what I had seen I could only tell Ruta B later when we were alone Ruta B and Frederick Larson experienced a cruel disappointment at the result of the night's adventure they could only look in consternation and stupefaction at the body of the green man with a stupidly sorrowful face and with silly lamentations kept repeating that we were mistaken the keeper could not be the assailant we were obliged to compel him to be quiet he could not have shown greater grief had the body been that of his own son I noticed while all the rest of us were more or less undressed and barefooted that he was fully clothed Ruta B had not left the body kneeling on the flagstones by the light of Daddy Jacques Lantern who had left the body and lay bare its breast then snatching the Lantern from Daddy Jacques he held it over the corpse and saw a gaping wound rising suddenly he exclaimed in a voice filled with savage irony the man you believe to have been shot was killed by the stab of a knife in his heart I thought Ruta B had gone mad but bending over the body I quickly satisfied myself that Ruta B was right not a sign of a bullet anywhere the wound evidently made by a sharp blade had penetrated the heart end of chapter 22 recording by Simon Lauer chapter 23 of the mystery of the yellow room this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more free audiobooks or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org the mystery of the yellow room by Gaston Leroux chapter 23 the double cent I had hardly recovered from the surprise into which this new discovery had plunged me when Ruta B touched me on the shoulder and asked me to follow him into his room what are we going to do there to think the matter over I confess I was in no condition for doing much thinking nor could I understand how Ruta B could so control himself as to be able calmly to sit down for reflection when he must have known that Mademoiselle Strangeson was at that moment almost on the point of death but his self-control was more than I could explain closing the door of his room he motioned me to a chair and seating himself before me took out his pipe we sat there for some time in silence and then I fell asleep when I woke it was daylight it was eight o'clock by my watch Ruta B was no longer in the room I rose to go out when the door opened and my friends re-entered he had evidently lost no time how about Mademoiselle Strangeson I asked him the condition though very alarming is not desperate when did you leave this room till it's dawn I guess you have been hard at work rather have you found out anything two sets of footprints do they explain anything yes have they anything to do with the mystery of the keeper's body yes the mystery is no longer a mystery in the morning walking round the chateau I found two distinct sets of footprints made at the same time last night they were made by two persons walking side by side I followed them from the court towards the oak grove Larsson joined me they were the same kind of footprints as were made at the time of the assault in the yellow room one set was from clumsy boots and the other was made by neat ones except that the big toe of one of the sets was of a different size from the one measured in the yellow room incident I compared the marks with the paper patterns I had previously made still following the tracks of the prints Larsson and I passed out of the oak grove and reached the border of the lake there they turned off to a little path leading to the high road to Epine where we lost the traces in the newly macadamized highway we went back to the chateau and parted at the courtyard we met again however in Daddy Jack's room to which our separate trains of thinking had led us both we found the old servant in bed his clothes on the chair were wet through and his boots very muddy he certainly did not get into that state in helping us to carry the body of a keeper it was not raining then then his face showed extreme fatigue and he looked at us out of terror-stricken eyes on our first questioning him he told us that he had gone to bed immediately after the doctor had arrived on pressing him however for it was evident to us he was not speaking the truth he confessed that he had been away from the chateau he explained his absence by saying that he had a headache and went out into the fresh air but had gone no farther than the oak grove when we then described to him the whole route he had followed he set up in bed trembling and you were not alone cried Larson did you see it then gasped Daddy Jack what I asked the phantom the black phantom then he told us that for several nights he had seen what he kept calling the black phantom it came into the park at the stroke of midnight and glided stealthily through the trees it appeared to him to pass through the trunk of the trees twice he had seen it from his window by the light of the moon and had risen and followed the strange apparition the night before last he had almost overtaken it but it had vanished at the corner of the dungeon last night however he had not left the chateau his mind being disturbed by a pre-sentiment that some new crime would be attempted suddenly he saw the black phantom rush out from somewhere in the middle of the court he followed it to the lake and to the high road to Epine where the phantom suddenly disappeared did you see his face demanded Larson no I saw nothing but black veils did you go out after what passed on the gallery I could not I was terrified I said in a threatening voice you did not follow it you and the phantom walked to Epine together arm in arm no he cried turning his eyes away I did not it came on too poor and I turned back I don't know what became of the black phantom we left him and when we were outside I turned to Larson and put my question suddenly to take him off his guard an accomplice how can I tell he replied shrugging his shoulders you can't be sure of anything in a case like this 24 hours ago I would have sworn that there was no accomplice he left me saying he was off to Epine well what do you make of it after he had ended his recital personally I am utterly in the dark I can't make anything out of it what do you gather everything everything he exclaimed but he said abruptly let's find out more about Mademoiselle Strangerson end of chapter 23 recording by Ezwa in Belgium in August 2008 chapter 24 of the mystery of the Jell-O-Room this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more free audiobooks or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org reading by Lars Rolander the mystery of the Jell-O-Room by Gaston Leroux chapter 24 Roletta Bill knows the two halves of the murderer Mademoiselle Strangerson had been almost murdered for the second time unfortunately she was in too weak a state to bear the severe injuries of this second attack as well as she had those of the first she had received three wounds in the breast from the murderer's knife and she lay long between life and death her strong physique however saved her but though she recovered physically it was found that her mind had been affected the slightest allusion to the terrible incident sent her into delirium and the rest of Robert Tartzak which followed on the day following the tragic death of the keeper seemed to sink her fine intelligence into complete melancholia Robert Tartzak arrived at the chateau towards half past nine I saw him hurrying through the park staring close in disorder and his face a deadly white Roletta Bill and I were looking out of a window in the gallery he saw us and gave a despairing cry I'm too late Roletta Bill answered she lives a minute later Tartzak had gone into Mademoiselle Strangerson's room and through the door we could hear his heart rendering sobs there is a fate about this place grown Roletta Bill some infernal gods must be watching over the misfortunes of this family if I had not been dragged I should have saved Mademoiselle Strangerson I should have silenced him forever and the keeper would not have been killed Monsieur Tartzak came in to speak with us his distress was terrible Roletta Bill told him everything about the considerations for Mademoiselle Strangerson's safety his plans for either capturing or for disposing of the assailant forever 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 Strangerson to confide in me but then everybody here distrusts everybody else you ought to distrust 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 Tartzak's request Roletta Bill described the whole scene leaning on the wall to prevent himself from falling he had made his way to Mademoiselle Strangerson's room while we were running after the supposed murderer the enter room door was open and when he entered he found Mademoiselle Strangerson lying partly thrown over the desk her dressing gown 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 drawing room and tried to rouse Monsieur Strangerson who was lying on a sofa Monsieur Strangerson rose stupidly and let himself be drawn by Roletta Bill into the room where on seeing his daughter's body he uttered a heart-rendering cry both united their feeble strength and carried her to her bed on his way to join us Roletta Bill 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 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 château with his registrar and changdhams of course we were all questioned Roletta Bill 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 Rans told everybody in a manner so natural that he astonished me that he had last seen the keeper towards 11 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 St. Michel station and had been kept out late running after poachers Arthur Rans had indeed intended to leave the château and according to his habit to walk to the station Monsieur Stangerson confirmed what Rans had said adding that he had not asked Rans to dine with him because his friend had taken his final leave of them both earlier in the evening Monsieur Rans had had tea served him in his room because he had complained of a slight indisposition Bernier testified instructed by Roletta Bill 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 for him he had almost arrived at the donchon when he saw a figure running swiftly in a direction opposite to him towards the right wing of the château he heard revolver shots from behind the figure and saw Roletta Bill at one of the gallery windows he heard Roletta Bill call out to him to fire and he had fired he believed he had killed the man until he learned after Roletta Bill 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 recognize the keeper before firing Teddy 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 chates 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 conclusion he had already arrived at as to the keeper and his intrigues with the wife of Mathieu the landlord of the Don John Inn this Mathieu later in the afternoon was arrested and taken to Courbet 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 Carter's who had heard the threats was enough to justify his retention the examination had proceeded thus far when to our surprise Frédès Clarkson returned to the château he was accompanied by one of the employees at that moment Rance and I were in the vestibule discussing Mathieu's guilt or innocence while Roletta Bill 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 ladies chamber as Frédès Clarkson entered the vestibule with the railway employed Roletta Bill and I at once recognized him by the small blonde beard we exchanged meaningful glances Lausanne had himself announced to the examining magistrate by the chandam and entered with the railway servant a steady chak came out some ten minutes went by during which Roletta Bill appeared extremely impatient the door of the drawing room was then opened and we heard the magistrate calling to the chandam who entered presently he came out, mounted the stairs and coming back shortly went into 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 chandam mounted the stairs he made a sign to Lausanne and the railroad employee to follow Roletta Bill 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 shall 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 grown 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 Frédéric Lacson's face alone was radiant showing a joy as of a dog that had 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 employee at the station at Epiné-sur-Orche This young man went on Monsieur de Marquet affirms that he saw you get off the train at Epiné-sur-Orche 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 Epiné-sur-Orche at that time? Monsieur Darzac remained silent, simply closing his eyes Monsieur Darzac insisted the 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 Roletta Bill move quickly towards Monsieur Darzac He would certainly have spoken to him But Darzac, by gesture, held him off As the Shangdam approached his prisoner a despairing cry ran through the room Robert, Robert We recognized the voice of Mademoiselle Stangerson We all shuddered Larsen himself turned pale Monsieur Darzac, in response to the cry, had flown back into the room The magistrate, the Shangdam and Larsen, followed closely after Roletta Bill 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 Larsen and the Shangdam 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 powered out of the room and placed in the vestibule to wait for the vehicle Larsen had gone to fetch We were all overcome by emotion and even Monsieur de Marquet had tears in his eyes Roletta Bill 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 Roletta Bill'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, Mermaid 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 Roletta Bill 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 Madame Marcel Stangerson knows it 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 Roletta Bill had said to him At that moment the conveyance arrived, driven by Frederick Larsson Darzac and the chandarme entered it Larsson, remaining on the driver's seat The prisoner was taken to Corbeille End of chapter 24 Read by Lars Rolander Chapter 25 That same evening Roletta Bill and I left the Glendier 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 Roletta Bill, with a friendly tap on my shoulder, confessed that he had nothing more to learn at the Glendier 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 Roletta Bill arrived next day at the hour agreed on He was dressed in a suit of English tweed with a knollster 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 Strangeson tried to say before she fainted? No, nobody heard it I heard it, replied Roletta Bill He said, speak Do you think Darzak 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 are away? No, not now that Darzak is in prison, he answered With this strange remark, he left I was not to see him again until the day of Darzak's trial at the court when he appeared to explain the inexplicable End of Chapter 25, recording by Iswa in Belgium in August 2008 Chapter 26 of The Mystery of the Yellow Room This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more free audiobooks or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org Recording by J. C. Guarn The Mystery of the Yellow Room by Gaston Leroux Chapter 26 In which Joseph Roltabé 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 epoch printed as the first column of the front page the following sensational article The Sanéois 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 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 Mr. Robert Darzak'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 fiancée Mr. 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 Sanéois 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 Mr. Robert Darzak that a detective so well informed, so intelligent And generally so successful as Mr. Frédéric Larsan may be excused for having been misled by them Up to now everything has gone against Mr. Robert Darzak in the magisterial inquiry Today however we are going to defend him before the jury And we are going to bring to the witness and a light that will illuminate 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 report we published relating to the left foot of the Rue Oberkamp At the time of the famous robbery of the Crédit universelle and the famous case of the gold ingots of the Mint In both those cases we were able to discover the truth before even the excellent ingenuity of Frédéric Larsan had been able to unravel it These reports were written by our youngest reporter Joseph Routabé, a youth of 18, 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 château Every other representative of the press had been denied admission He worked side by side with Frédéric 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 Mr. Robert Darzak But now France must know, the whole world must know That on the very evening on which Mr. Darzak was arrested Young Routabé 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 Mr. Darzak is to appear before the AC's court Have this letter opened and read to the court After all the witnesses have been heard Arrange it with Mr. Darzak's counsel Mr. Darzak 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 Routabé 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 Routabé has not returned It may be which I'll never see him again The press also counts its heroes, its martyrs to duty It may be he is no longer living Which I'll know how to avenge him Our manager will this afternoon be at the court of AC's adversaille With the letter The letter containing the name of the murderer Those Parisians who flocked to the AC's 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 epoch had so excited the populace That discussion was rife everywhere Even to the verge of blows Partisans of Routabé fought with the supporters of Frédéric Larson 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 Frédéric Larson's 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 Routabé's explanation Though they did not as yet know what that was With the day's epoch in their hands The Larson's and Routabé's 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 rumours spread that M. Stangerson himself had been arrested in the court And had confessed to being the murderer This goes to show where the pitch of madness, nervous excitement may carry people Routabé 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 courthouse A scuffle took place Crises were raised of Routabé, there's Routabé The arrival of the manager of the paper was a designal for a great demonstration Some applauded Others hissed The trial itself was presided over by M. de Rocouze 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 glandiers M. Stangerson Looking many years older And almost unrecognisable Are so rants With his face ready 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 chateau The employee of the Paris post office The railway employee from Epiney Some friends of M. and M. Stangerson And all M. Darzak's witnesses 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 fund seats on the steps Behind the bench of justices Were representatives from other benches M. Robert Darzak Stood in the prisoner's dock Between policemen Tall, handsome And calm A mama of admiration Rather than of compassion Greeted his appearance He leaned forward towards his counsel M. Henry Robert Who, assisted by his chief secretary M. André S. Was busy turning over the folios of his brief Many expected That M. Stangerson After giving his evidence Would have gone over to the prisoner And shaken hands with him But he left the court It was remarked That the jurors Appeared to be deeply interested In a rapid conversation Which the manager of the epoch Was having with M. Henry 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 Without any incident I shall not here report The long examination To which M. Robert Darzak was subjected He answered all the questions Quickly and easily His silence asked to the important matters Of which we know was dead against him It would seem as if this reticence Would be fatal to him He resented the president's 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 M. Robert took advantage of the incident And tried to show That it brought out in noble relief His client's character For only heroic natures Could remain silent for moral reasons In face of such a danger The eminent advocate, however In assuring those who were already assured Of Darzak's innocence At the adjournment Rolta B. had not arrived yet Every time a door opened All eyes were turned towards it And back to the manager of the epoch Who sat in passive 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 Glendier case To enable me to go on To the really dramatic denouement Of this ever memorable day When the trial was resumed M. 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 In the keeper's mistress And that her husband had suspected it She again, however, affirmed That he had had nothing to do With the merger of her lover M. Henri Robert D. Ropin Asked the court to hear Frédéric Larson on this point In a short conversation Which I have had with Frédéric Larson 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 Frédéric Larson's theory Frédéric Larson was brought in His explanation was quite clear I see no necessity He said For bringing Mathieu in this I have told M. de Marquet That the man's threats Had biased the examining magistrate Against him Mademoiselle and the death of the keeper Of the work of one and the same person Mademoiselle Stangerson's 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 chateau 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 word had scarcely left Lasson's mouth When from the back of the court Came a joyful voice I agree with Frédéric Larsson 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, Mr. President Joseph Roltabeille End of Chapter 26 Recording by J. C. Iguan Montreal November 2008