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Larsan smiled and asked him what he had been doing in America, Rouletabille began by telling him some anecdotes of his voyage. They then turned aside together apparently with the object of speaking confidentially.
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.
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.
"'No! he cried, turning his eyes away, 'I did not. It came on to pour, 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 Larsan, looking him full in the face, and put my question suddenly to take him off his guard: "'An accomplice? "'How can I tell? he replied, shrugging his shoulders.
'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 of where I had been. I am perfectly aware of the suspicions cast on me. The examining magistrate and Monsieur Larsan are both on the point of believing in my guilt.
"Very well," said Monsieur de Marquet; "then we'll go to him." Monsieur de Marquet and the gendarme mounted the stairs. He made a sign to Larsan and the railroad employe to follow. Rouletabille and I went along too. On reaching the door of Mademoiselle Stangerson's chamber, Monsieur de Marquet knocked. A chambermaid appeared.
"I assure you, Monsieur President," he cried in his sharp, clear voice, "that when I do name the murderer you will understand why I could not speak before half-past six. I assert this on my honour. I can, however, give you now some explanation of the murder of the keeper. Monsieur Frederic Larsan, who has seen me at work at the Glandier, can tell you with what care I studied this case.
Then he added, with emphasis: "Monsieur Darzac is an honest man!" "Are you sure of that?" asked Larsan. "Well, I am sure he is not. So it's a fight then?" "Yes, it is a fight. But I shall beat you, Monsieur Frederic Larsan." "Youth never doubts anything," said the great Fred laughingly, and held out his hand to me by way of conclusion. Rouletabille's answer came like an echo: "Not anything!"
He followed it to the lake and to the high road to Epinay, where the phantom suddenly disappeared. "'Did you see his face? demanded Larsan. "'No! I saw nothing but black veils. "'Did you go out after what passed on the gallery? "'I could not! I was terrified. "'Daddy Jacques, I said, in a threatening voice, 'you did not follow it; you and the phantom walked to Epinay together arm in arm!
The court-room became immediately filled with loud and indignant protests. So astonished was he that the President did not attempt to quiet it. The quick silence which followed was broken by the distinctly whispered words from the lips of Robert Darzac: "It's impossible! He's mad!" "You dare to accuse Frederic Larsan, Monsieur?" asked the President. "If you are not mad, what are your proofs?"
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