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That evening, on reaching Paris, I saw Monsieur Cassette, dealer in walking-sticks and umbrellas, and wrote to my friend: "A man unmistakably answering to the description of Monsieur Robert Darzac same height, slightly stooping, putty-coloured overcoat, bowler hat purchased a cane similar to the one in which we are interested, on the evening of the crime, about eight o'clock.
Then he gave utterance to a sentence which was utterly meaningless to me. "The presbytery has lost nothing of its charm, nor the garden its brightness." The words had no sooner left the lips of Rouletabille than I saw Robert Darzac quail. Pale as he was, he became paler.
"That, Monsieur, I do not know," said Rouletabille. "It is no business of mine." The President, turning to Monsieur Darzac, endeavoured to induce him to tell what he knew. "Do you still refuse, Monsieur, to tell us how you employed your time during the attempts on the life of Mademoiselle Stangerson?" "I cannot tell you anything, Monsieur."
It is impossible for me to picture the tense excitement which appeared on every face, as he made his way to the bar. Darzac rose to his feet, frightfully pale. The President, addressing Rouletabille, said gravely: "I will not ask you to take the oath, because you have not been regularly summoned; but I trust there is no need to urge upon you the gravity of the statement you are about to make."
He did not add "or it will be my death"; but I felt that the phrase trembled on his pale lips. Rouletabille intervened: "You are in a hurry, Monsieur; but I must speak with you. I have something of the greatest importance to tell you." Frederic Larsan interrupted: "May I leave you?" he asked of Robert Darzac. "Have you a key, or do you wish me to give you this one." "Thank you.
"Mademoiselle Stangerson is much better and is rapidly recovering from her wounds. The marriage is simply delayed, is it not, Monsieur?" insisted the Chief of the Surete. "I hope so. "What! Is there any doubt about that?" Monsieur Stangerson did not answer. Monsieur Robert Darzac seemed agitated. I saw that his hand trembled as it fingered his watchchain.
When he had finished his omelette and we were again alone, Rouletabille continued the tale of his confidences. "When I sent you my telegram this morning," he said, "I had only the word of Monsieur Darzac, that 'perhaps' the assassin would come to-night. I can now say that he will certainly come. I expect him." "What has made you feel this certainty?"
"From his insistence I gathered that Monsieur Darzac 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.
Then he recognised me. While Larsan was unlocking the gate, Monsieur Darzac inquired what had brought me to the Glandier at such a tragic moment. I noticed that he was frightfully pale, and that his face was lined as if from the effects of some terrible suffering. "Is Mademoiselle getting better?" I immediately asked. "Yes," he said. "She will be saved perhaps. She must be saved!"
"Such were my experiences on that evening, and I leave you to imagine what effect the news of the attempted murder of Mademoiselle Stangerson produced on me, with what force those words pronounced by Monsieur Robert Darzac, 'Must I commit a crime, then, to win you? recurred to me. It was not this phrase, however, that I repeated to him, when we met here at Glandier.
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