in this new witness.  They were amused by his melodramatic action
   in thus fixing the hour; but they seemed to have confidence in the
   outcome.  As for the President, it looked as if he also had made up
   his mind to take the young man in the same way.  He had certainly
   been impressed by Rouletabille's explanation of Madame Mathieu's part.
   "Well, Monsieur Rouletabille," he said, "as you say; but don't let
   us see any more of you before half-past six."
   Rouletabille bowed to the President, and made his way to the door
   of the witnesses' room.
   I quietly made my way through the crowd and left the court almost
   at the same time as Rouletabille.  He greeted me heartily, and
   looked happy.
   "I'll not ask you, my dear fellow," I said, smiling, "what you've
   been doing in America; because I've no doubt you'll say you can't
   tell me until after half-past six."
   "No, my dear Sainclair, I'll tell you right now why I went to
   America.  I went in search of the name of the other half of the
   murderer!"
   "The name of the other half?"
   "Exactly.  When we last left the Glandier I knew there were two
   halves to the murderer and the name of only one of them.  I went
   to America for the name of the other half."
   I was too puzzled to answer.  Just then we entered the witnesses'
   room, and Rouletabille was immediately surrounded.  He showed
   himself very friendly to all except Arthur Rance to whom he
   exhibited a marked coldness of manner.  Frederic Larsan came in
   also.  Rouletabille went up and shook him heartily by the hand.
   His manner toward the detective showed that he had got the better
   of the policeman.  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.  I, therefore, discreetly
   left them and, being curious to hear the evidence, returned to my
   seat in the court-room where the public plainly showed its lack
   of interest in what was going on in their impatience for
   Rouletabille's return at the appointed time.
   On the stroke of half-past six Joseph Rouletabille was again brought
   in.  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."
   Rouletabille looked the President quite calmly and steadily in the
   face, and replied:
   "Yes, Monsieur."
   "At your last appearance here," said the President, "we had arrived
   at the point where you were to tell us how the murderer escaped,
   and also his name.  Now, Monsieur Rouletabille, we await your
   explanation."
   "Very well, Monsieur," began my friend amidst a profound silence.
   "I had explained how it was impossible for the murderer to get away
   without being seen.  And yet he was there with us in the courtyard."
   "And you did not see him?  At least that is what the prosecution
   declares."
   "No!  We all of us saw him, Monsieur le President!" cried
   Rouletabille.
   "Then why was he not arrested?"
   "Because no one, besides myself, knew that he was the murderer.  It
   would have spoiled my plans to have had him arrested, and I had then
   no proof other than my own reasoning.  I was convinced we had the
   murderer before us and that we were actually looking at him.  I
   have now brought what I consider the indisputable proof."
   "Speak out, Monsieur!  Tell us the murderer's name."
   "You will find it on the list of names present in the court on the
   night of the tragedy," replied Rouletabille.
   The people present in the court-room began showing impatience.
   Some of them even called for the name, and were silenced by the
   usher.
   "The list includes Daddy Jacques, Bernier the concierge, and Mr.
   Arthur Rance," said the President.  "Do you accuse any of these?"
   "No, Monsieur!"
   "Then I do not understand what you are driving at.  There was no
   other person at the end of the court."
   "Yes, Monsieur, there was, not at the end, but above the court, who
   was leaning out of the window."
   "Do you mean Frederic Larsan!" exclaimed the President.
   "Yes!  Frederic Larsan!" replied Rouletabille in a ringing tone.
   "Frederic Larsan is the murderer!"
   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?"
   "Proofs, Monsieur?--Do you want proofs?  Well, here is one," cried
   Rouletabille shrilly.  "Let Frederic Larsan be called!"
   "Usher, call Frederic Larsan."
   The usher hurried to the side door, opened it, and disappeared.  The
   door remained open, while all eyes turned expectantly towards it.
   The clerk re-appeared and, stepping forward, said:
   "Monsieur President, Frederic Larsan is not here.  He left at about
   four o'clock and has not been seen since."
   "That is my proof!" cried Rouletabille, triumphantly.
   "Explain yourself?" demanded the President.
   "My proof is Larsan's flight," said the young reporter.  "He will
   not come back.  You will see no more of Frederic Larsan."
   "Unless you are playing with the court, Monsieur, why did you not
   accuse him when he was present?  He would then have answered you."
   "He could give no other answer than the one he has now given by his
   flight."
   "We cannot believe that Larsan has fled.  There was no reason for
   his doing so.  Did he know you'd make this charge?"
   "He did.  I told him I would."
   "Do you mean to say that knowing Larsan was the murderer you gave
   him the opportunity to escape?"
   "Yes, Monsieur President, I did," replied Rouletabille, proudly.
   "I am not a policeman, I am a journalist; and my business is not
   to arrest people.  My business is in the service of truth, and is
   not that of an executioner.  If you are just, Monsieur, you will
   see that I am right.  You can now understand why I refrained until
   this hour to divulge the name.  I gave Larsan time to catch the
   4:17 train for Paris, where he would know where to hide himself,
   and leave no traces.  You will not find Frederic Larsan," declared
   Rouletabille, fixing his eyes on Monsieur Robert Darzac.  "He is
   too cunning.  He is a man who has always escaped you and whom you
   have long searched for in vain.  If he did not succeed in
   outwitting me, he can yet easily outwit any police.  This man who,
   four years ago, introduced himself to the Suret 
					     					 			e, and became
   celebrated as Frederic Larsan, is notorious under another name--a
   name well known to crime.  Frederic Larsan, Monsieur President,
   is Ballmeyer!"
   "Ballmeyer!" cried the President.
   "Ballmeyer!" exclaimed Robert Darzac, springing to his feet.
   "Ballmeyer!--It was true, then!"
   "Ah!  Monsieur Darzac; you don't think I am mad, now!" cried
   Rouletabille.
   Ballmeyer!  Ballmeyer!  No other word could be heard in the
   courtroom.  The President adjourned the hearing.
   Those of my readers who may not have heard of Ballmeyer will wonder
   at the excitement the name caused.  And yet the doings of this
   remarkable criminal form the subject-matter of the most dramatic
   narratives of the newspapers and criminal records of the past twenty
   years.  It had been reported that he was dead, and thus had eluded
   the police as he had eluded them throughout the whole of his career.
   Ballmeyer was the best specimen of the high-class "gentleman
   swindler."  He was adept at sleight of hand tricks, and no bolder
   or more ruthless crook ever lived.  He was received in the best
   society, and was a member of some of the most exclusive clubs.  On
   many of his depredatory expeditions he had not hesitated to use
   the knife and the mutton-bone.  No difficulty stopped him and no
   "operation" was too dangerous.  He had been caught, but escaped
   on the very morning of his trial, by throwing pepper into the
   eyes of the guards who were conducting him to Court.  It was known
   later that, in spite of the keen hunt after him by the most expert
   of detectives, he had sat that same evening at a first performance
   in the Theatre Francais, without the slightest disguise.
   He left France, later, to "work" America. The police there
   succeeded in capturing him once, but the extraordinary man escaped
   the next day.  It would need a volume to recount the adventures of
   this master-criminal.  And yet this was the man Rouletabille had
   allowed to get away!  Knowing all about him and who he was, he
   afforded the criminal an opportunity for another laugh at the
   society he had defied!  I could not help admiring the bold stroke
   of the young journalist, because I felt certain his motive had been
   to protect both Mademoiselle Stangerson and rid Darzac of an enemy
   at the same time.
   The crowd had barely recovered from the effect of the astonishing
   revelation when the hearing was resumed.  The question in everybody's
   mind was: Admitting that Larsan was the murderer, how did he get out
   of The Yellow Room?
   Rouletabille was immediately called to the bar and his examination
   continued.
   "You have told us," said the President, "that it was impossible to
   escape from the end of the court.  Since Larsan was leaning out of
   his window, he had left the court.  How did he do that?"
   "He escaped by a most unusual way.  He climbed the wall, sprang
   onto the terrace, and, while we were engaged with the keeper's body,
   reached the gallery by the window.  He then had little else to do
   than to open the window, get in and call out to us, as if he had
   just come from his own room.  To a man of Ballmeyer's strength all
   that was mere child's play.  And here, Monsieur, is the proof of
   what I say."
   Rouletabille drew from his pocket a small packet, from which he
   produced a strong iron peg.
   "This, Monsieur," he said, "is a spike which perfectly fits a hole
   still to be seen in the cornice supporting the terrace.  Larsan,
   who thought and prepared for everything in case of any emergency,
   had fixed this spike into the cornice.  All he had to do to make
   his escape good was to plant one foot on a stone which is placed
   at the corner of the chateau, another on this support, one hand
   on the cornice of the keeper's door and the other on the terrace,
   and Larsan was clear of the ground.  The rest was easy.  His acting
   after dinner as if he had been drugged was make believe.  He was
   not drugged; but he did drug me.  Of course he had to make it
   appear as if he also had been drugged so that no suspicion should
   fall on him for my condition.  Had I not been thus overpowered,
   Larsan would never have entered Mademoiselle Stangerson's chamber
   that night, and the attack on her would not have taken place."
   A groan came from Darzac, who appeared to be unable to control
   his suffering.
   "You can understand," added Rouletabille, "that Larsan would feel
   himself hampered from the fact that my room was so close to his, and
   from a suspicion that I would be on the watch that night.  Naturally,
   he could not for a moment believe that I suspected him!  But I might
   see him leaving his room when he was about to go to Mademoiselle
   Stangerson.  He waited till I was asleep, and my friend Sainclair
   was busy trying to rouse me.  Ten minutes after that Mademoiselle
   was calling out, "Murder!"
   "How did you come to suspect Larsan?" asked the President.
   "My pure reason pointed to him.  That was why I watched him.  But
   I did not foresee the drugging.  He is very cunning.  Yes, my pure
   reason pointed to him; but I required tangible proof so that my
   eyes could see him as my pure reason saw him."
   "What do you mean by your pure reason?"
   "That power of one's mind which admits of no disturbing elements
   to a conclusion.  The day following the incident of 'the
   inexplicable gallery,' I felt myself losing control of it.  I had
   allowed myself to be diverted by fallacious evidence; but I
   recovered and again took hold of the right end.  I satisfied myself
   that the murderer could not have left the gallery, either naturally
   or supernaturally.  I narrowed the field of consideration to that
   small circle, so to speak.  The murderer could not be outside that
   circle.  Now who was in it?  There was, first, the murderer.  Then
   there were Daddy Jacques, Monsieur Stangerson, Frederic Larsan, and
   myself.  Five persons in all, counting in the murderer.  And yet,
   in the gallery, there were but four.  Now since it had been
   demonstrated to me that the fifth could not have escaped, it was
   evident that one of the four present in the gallery must be a double
   --he must be himself and the murderer also.  Why had I not seen
   this before?  Simply because the phenomenon of the double personality
   had not occurred before in this inquiry.
   "Now who of the four persons in the gallery was both that person
   and the assassin?  I went over in my mind what I had seen.  I had
   seen at one and the same time, Monsieur Stangerson and the murderer,
   Daddy Jacques and the murderer, myself and the murderer; so that
   the murderer, then, could not be either Monsieur Stangerson, Daddy
   Jacques, or myself.  Had I seen Frederic Larsan and the murderer
   at the same time?--No!--Two seconds had passed, during which I
   lost sight of the murderer; for, as I have noted in my papers, he
   arrived two seconds before Monsieur Stangerson, Daddy Jacques, and
   myself at the meeting-point of the two galleries.  That would have
   given Larsan tim 
					     					 			e to go through the 'off-turning' gallery, snatch
   off his false beard, return, and hurry with us as if, like us, in
   pursuit of the murderer.  I was sure now I had got hold of the
   right end in my reasoning.  With Frederic Larsan was now always
   associated, in my mind, the personality of the unknown of whom I
   was in pursuit--the murderer, in other words.
   "That revelation staggered me.  I tried to regain my balance by
   going over the evidences previously traced, but which had diverted
   my mind and led me away from Frederic Larsan.  What were these
   evidences?
   "1st.  I had seen the unknown in Mademoiselle Stangerson's chamber.
   On going to Frederic Larsan's room, I had found Larsan sound asleep.
   "2nd.  The ladder.
   "3rd.  I had placed Frederic Larsan at the end of the 'off-turning'
   gallery and had told him that I would rush into Mademoiselle
   Stangerson's room to try to capture the murderer.  Then I returned
   to Mademoiselle Stangerson's chamber where I had seen the unknown.
   "The first evidence did not disturb me much.  It is likely that,
   when I descended from my ladder, after having seen the unknown in
   Mademoiselle Stangerson's chamber, Larsan had already finished what
   he was doing there.  Then, while I was re-entering the chateau,
   Larsan went back to his own room and, undressing himself, went to
   sleep.
   "Nor did the second evidence trouble me.  If Larsan were the
   murderer, he could have no use for a ladder; but the ladder might
   have been placed there to give an appearance to the murderer's
   entrance from without the chateau; especially as Larsan had accused
   Darzac and Darzac was not in the chateau that night.  Further, the
   ladder might have been placed there to facilitate Larsan's flight
   in case of absolute necessity.
   "But the third evidence puzzled me altogether.  Having placed Larsan
   at the end of the 'off-turning gallery,' I could not explain how he
   had taken advantage of the moment when I had gone to the left wing
   of the chateau to find Monsieur Stangerson and Daddy Jacques, to
   return to Mademoiselle Stangerson's room.  It was a very dangerous
   thing to do.  He risked being captured,--and he knew it.  And he
   was very nearly captured.  He had not had time to regain his post,
   as he had certainly hoped to do.  He had then a very strong reason
   for returning to his room.  As for myself, when I sent Daddy Jacques
   to the end of the 'right gallery,' I naturally thought that Larsan
   was still at his post.  Daddy Jacques, in going to his post, had not
   looked, when he passed, to see whether Larsan was at his post or not.
   "What, then, was the urgent reason which had compelled Larsan to
   go to the room a second time?  I guessed it to be some evidence of
   his presence there.  He had left something very important in that
   room.  What was it?  And had he recovered it?  I begged Madame
   Bernier who was accustomed to clean the room to look, and she found
   a pair of eye-glasses--this pair, Monsieur President!"
   And Rouletabille drew the eye-glasses, of which we know, from his
   pocket.
   "When I saw these eye-glasses," he continued, "I was utterly
   nonplussed.  I had never seen Larsan wear eye-glasses.  What did
   they mean?  Suddenly I exclaimed to myself: 'I wonder if he is
   long-sighted?'  I had never seen Larsan write.  He might, then, be
   long-sighted.  They would certainly know at the Surete, and also
   know if the glasses were his.  Such evidence would be damning.
   That explained Larsan's return.  I know now that Larsan, or
   Ballmeyer, is long-sighted and that these glasses belonged to him.
   "I now made one mistake.  I was not satisfied with the evidence I
   had obtained.  I wished to see the man's face.  Had I refrained
   from this, the second terrible attack would not have occurred."
   "But," asked the President, "why should Larsan go to Mademoiselle