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it cannot be taken alive。
〃If I could but make this woman； who does not even look at us；
understand！ She is absorbed by her fears and by her father's
distress of mind。 And I can do nothing to save her。 Yes； I will
go to work once more and accomplish wonders。
〃I move towards her。 I would speak to her。 I would entreat her
to have confidence in me。 I would； in a word； make her understand
… she alone … that I know how the murderer escaped from The Yellow
Room … that I have guessed the motives for her secrecy … and that I
pity her with all my heart。 But by her gestures she begged us to
leave her alone； expressing weariness and the need for immediate
rest。 Monsieur Stangerson asked us to go back to our rooms and
thanked us。 Frederic Larsan and I bowed to him and； followed by
Daddy Jacques； we regained the gallery。 I heard Larsan murmur：
'Strange！ strange！' He made a sign to me to go with him into his
room。 On the threshold he turned towards Daddy Jacques。
〃'Did you see him distinctly？' he asked。
〃'Who？'
〃'The man？'
〃'Saw him！ … why； he had a big red beard and red hair。'
〃'That's how he appeared to me；' I said。
〃'And to me；' said Larsan。
〃The great Fred and I were alone in his chamber； now； to talk over
this thing。 We talked for an hour； turning the matter over and
viewing it from every side。 From the questions put by him； from
the explanation which he gives me； it is clear to me that … in spite
of all our senses … he is persuaded the man disappeared by some
secret passage in the chateau known to him alone。
〃'He knows the chateau；' he said to me； 'he knows it well。'
〃'He is a rather tall man … well…built；' I suggested。
〃'He is as tall as he wants to be；' murmured Fred。
〃'I understand；' I said； 'but how do you account for his red hair
and beard？'
〃'Too much beard … too much hair … false；' says Fred。
〃'That's easily said。 You are always thinking of Robert Darzac。
You can't get rid of that idea？ I am certain that he is innocent。'
〃'So much the better。 I hope so； but everything condemns him。 Did
you notice the marks on the carpet？ … Come and look at them。'
〃'I have seen them； they are the marks of the neat boots； the same
as those we saw on the border of the lake。'
〃'Can you deny that they belong to Robert Darzac？'
〃'Of course； one may be mistaken。'
〃'Have you noticed that those footprints only go in one direction？
… that there are no return marks？ When the man came from the
chamber； pursued by all of us； his footsteps left no traces behind
them。'
〃'He had； perhaps； been in the chamber for hours。 The mud from his
boots had dried； and he moved with such rapidity on the points of
his toes … We saw him running； but we did not hear his steps。'
〃I suddenly put an end to this idle chatter … void of any logic； and
made a sign to Larsan to listen。
〃'There … below； some one is shutting a door。'
〃I rise； Larsan follows me； we descend to the ground…floor of the
chateau。 I lead him to the little semi…circular room under the
terrace beneath the window of the 'off…turning' gallery。 I point
to the door； now closed； open a short time before； under which a
shaft of light is visible。
〃'The forest…keeper！' says Fred。
〃'Come on！' I whisper。
〃Prepared … I know not why … to believe that the keeper is the
guilty man … I go to the door and rap smartly on it。 〃Some might
think that we were rather late in thinking of the keeper； since our
first business； after having found that the murderer had escaped us
in the gallery； ought to have been to search everywhere else；
… around the chateau； … in the park …
〃Had this criticism been made at the time； we could only have
answered that the assassin had disappeared from the gallery in such
a way that we thought he was no longer anywhere！ He had eluded us
when we all had our hands stretched out ready to seize him … when
we were almost touching him。 We had no longer any ground for hoping
that we could clear up the mystery of that night。
〃As soon as I rapped at the door it was opened； and the keeper
asked us quietly what we wanted。 He was undressed and preparing
to go to bed。 The bed had not yet been disturbed。
〃We entered and I affected surprise。
〃'Not gone to bed yet？'
〃'No；' he replied roughly。 'I have been making a round of the park
and in the woods。 I am only just back … and sleepy。 Good…night！'
〃'Listen；' I said。 'An hour or so ago； there was a ladder close by
your window。'
〃'What ladder？ … I did not see any ladder。 Good…night！'
〃And he simply put us out of the room。 When we were outside I
looked at Larsan。 His face was impenetrable。
'Well？' I said。
〃'Well？' he repeated。
〃'Does that open out any new view to you？'
〃There was no mistaking Larsan's bad temper。 On re…entering the
chateau； I heard him mutter：
〃'It would be strange … very strange … if I had deceived myself on
that point！'
〃He seemed to be talking to me rather than to himself。 He added：
〃'In any case； we shall soon know what to think。 The morning will
bring light with it。'〃
CHAPTER XVIII
Rouletabille Has Drawn a Circle Between the Two Bumps on His Forehead
（EXTRACT FROM THE NOTE…BOOK OF JOSEPH ROULETABILLE； continued）
〃We separated on the thresholds of our rooms； with a melancholy
shake of the hands。 I was glad to have aroused in him a suspicion
of error。 His was an original brain； very intelligent but … without
method。 I did not go to bed。 I awaited the coming of daylight and
then went down to the front of the chateau； and made a detour；
examining every trace of footsteps coming towards it or going from
it。 These； however； were so mixed and confusing that I could make
nothing of them。 Here I may make a remark； … I am not accustomed
to attach an exaggerated importance to exterior signs left in the
track of a crime。
〃The method which traces the criminal by means of the tracks of his
footsteps is altogether primitive。 So many footprints are identical。
However； in the disturbed state of my mind； I did go into the
deserted court and did look at all the footprints I could find there；
seeking for some indication； as a basis for reasoning。
〃If I could but find a right starting…point！ In despair I seated
myself on a stone。 For over an hour I busied myself with the common；
ordinary work of a policeman。 Like the least intelligent of
detectives I went on blindly over the traces of footprints which
told me just no more than they could。
〃I came to the conclusion that I was a fool； lower in the scale of
intelligence than even the police of the modern romancer。 Novelists
build mountains of stupidity out of a footprint on the sand； or from
an impression of a hand on the wall。 That's the way innocent men
are brought to prison。 It might convince an examining magistrate or
the head of a detective department； but it's not proof。 You writers
forget that what the senses furnish is not proof。 If I am taking
cognisance of what is offered me by my senses I do so but to bring
the results within the circle of my reason。 That circle may be the
most circumscribed； but if it is； it has this advantage … it holds
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