Le mystère de la chambre jaune. English, Page 6

  CHAPTER VI. In the Heart of the Oak Grove

  We reached the chateau, and, as we approached it, saw four gendarmespacing in front of a little door in the ground floor of the donjon. Wesoon learned that in this ground floor, which had formerly served asa prison, Monsieur and Madame Bernier, the concierges, were confined.Monsieur Robert Darzac led us into the modern part of the chateau bya large door, protected by a projecting awning--a "marquise" as it iscalled. Rouletabille, who had resigned the horse and the cab to the careof a servant, never took his eyes off Monsieur Darzac. I followed hislook and perceived that it was directed solely towards the gloved handsof the Sorbonne professor. When we were in a tiny sitting-room fittedwith old furniture, Monsieur Darzac turned to Rouletabille and saidsharply:

  "What do you want?"

  The reporter answered in an equally sharp tone:

  "To shake you by the hand."

  Darzac shrank back.

  "What does that mean?"

  Evidently he understood, what I also understood, that my friendsuspected him of the abominable attempt on the life of MademoiselleStangerson. The impression of the blood-stained hand on the walls of TheYellow Room was in his mind. I looked at the man closely. His haughtyface with its expression ordinarily so straightforward was at thismoment strangely troubled. He held out his right hand and, referring tome, said:

  "As you are a friend of Monsieur Sainclair who has rendered meinvaluable services in a just cause, monsieur, I see no reason forrefusing you my hand--"

  Rouletabille did not take the extended hand. Lying with the utmostaudacity, he said:

  "Monsieur, I have lived several years in Russia, where I have acquiredthe habit of never taking any but an ungloved hand."

  I thought that the Sorbonne professor would express his anger openly,but, on the contrary, by a visibly violent effort, he calmed himself,took off his gloves, and showed his hands; they were unmarked by anycicatrix.

  "Are you satisfied?"

  "No!" replied Rouletabille. "My dear friend," he said, turning to me, "Iam obliged to ask you to leave us alone for a moment."

  I bowed and retired; stupefied by what I had seen and heard. I could notunderstand why Monsieur Robert Darzac had not already shown the door tomy impertinent, insulting, and stupid friend. I was angry myself withRouletabille at that moment, for his suspicions, which had led to thisscene of the gloves.

  For some twenty minutes I walked about in front of the chateau, tryingvainly to link together the different events of the day. What was inRouletabille's mind? Was it possible that he thought Monsieur RobertDarzac to be the murderer? How could it be thought that this man, whowas to have married Mademoiselle Stangerson in the course of a few days,had introduced himself into The Yellow Room to assassinate his fiancee?I could find no explanation as to how the murderer had been able toleave The Yellow Room; and so long as that mystery, which appeared to meso inexplicable, remained unexplained, I thought it was the duty ofall of us to refrain from suspecting anybody. But, then, that seeminglysenseless phrase--"The presbytery has lost nothing of its charm, nor thegarden its brightness"--still rang in my ears. What did it mean? I waseager to rejoin Rouletabille and question him.

  At that moment the young man came out of the chateau in the companyof Monsieur Robert Darzac, and, extraordinary to relate, I saw, at aglance, that they were the best of friends. "We are going to The YellowRoom. Come with us," Rouletabille said to me. "You know, my dear boy, Iam going to keep you with me all day. We'll breakfast together somewhereabout here--"

  "You'll breakfast with me, here, gentlemen--"

  "No, thanks," replied the young man. "We shall breakfast at the DonjonInn."

  "You'll fare very badly there; you'll not find anything--"

  "Do you think so? Well, I hope to find something there," repliedRouletabille. "After breakfast, we'll set to work again. I'll write myarticle and if you'll be so good as to take it to the office for me--"

  "Won't you come back with me to Paris?"

  "No; I shall remain here."

  I turned towards Rouletabille. He spoke quite seriously, and MonsieurRobert Darzac did not appear to be in the least degree surprised.

  We were passing by the donjon and heard wailing voices. Rouletabilleasked:

  "Why have these people been arrested?"

  "It is a little my fault," said Monsieur Darzac. "I happened to remarkto the examining magistrate yesterday that it was inexplicable that theconcierges had had time to hear the revolver shots, to dress themselves,and to cover so great a distance as that which lies between their lodgeand the pavilion, in the space of two minutes; for not more than thatinterval of time had elapsed after the firing of the shots when theywere met by Daddy Jacques."

  "That was suspicious evidently," acquiesced Rouletabille. "And were theydressed?"

  "That is what is so incredible--they were dressed--completely--not onepart of their costume wanting. The woman wore sabots, but the man had onlaced boots. Now they assert that they went to bed at half-past nine.On arriving this morning, the examining magistrate brought with him fromParis a revolver of the same calibre as that found in the room (for hecouldn't use the one held for evidence), and made his Registrar firetwo shots in The Yellow Room while the doors and windows were closed. Wewere with him in the lodge of the concierges, and yet we heard nothing,not a sound. The concierges have lied, of that there can be no doubt.They must have been already waiting, not far from the pavilion, waitingfor something! Certainly they are not to be accused of being the authorsof the crime, but their complicity is not improbable. That was whyMonsieur de Marquet had them arrested at once."

  "If they had been accomplices," said Rouletabille, "they would not havebeen there at all. When people throw themselves into the arms of justicewith the proofs of complicity on them, you can be sure they are notaccomplices. I don't believe there are any accomplices in this affair."

  "Then, why were they abroad at midnight? Why don't they say?"

  "They have certainly some reason for their silence. What that reason is,has to be found out; for, even if they are not accomplices, it may be ofimportance. Everything that took place on such a night is important."

  We had crossed an old bridge thrown over the Douve and were entering thepart of the park called the Oak Grove, The oaks here were centuriesold. Autumn had already shrivelled their tawny leaves, and their highbranches, black and contorted, looked like horrid heads of hair, mingledwith quaint reptiles such as the ancient sculptors have made on the headof Medusa. This place, which Mademoiselle found cheerful and in whichshe lived in the summer season, appeared to us as sad and funereal now.The soil was black and muddy from the recent rains and the rotting ofthe fallen leaves; the trunks of the trees were black and the sky aboveus was now, as if in mourning, charged with great, heavy clouds.

  And it was in this sombre and desolate retreat that we saw the whitewalls of the pavilion as we approached. A queer-looking building withouta window visible on the side by which we neared it. A little door alonemarked the entrance to it. It might have passed for a tomb, a vastmausoleum in the midst of a thick forest. As we came nearer, we wereable to make out its disposition. The building obtained all the light itneeded from the south, that is to say, from the open country. The littledoor closed on the park. Monsieur and Mademoiselle Stangerson must havefound it an ideal seclusion for their work and their dreams.

  ___________________________________________________ ditch | ________________________________________________ | enclosing wall || || | | || || | | ||___ 1 |d | ||bed| || |i | PARK ||___|________|| |t | ||:::::| 4 || |c | ||::5::| || 2 |h | oo oo ||::::|___ _|| | | Traces oo || || | | of oo oo oo
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