Chapter VIII

The Examining Magistrate Questions Mademoiselle Stangerson

Two minutes later, as Rouletabille was bending over the footprints

discovered in the park, under the window of the vestibule, a man,

evidently a servant at the château, came towards us rapidly and called

out to Monsieur Darzac then coming out of the pavilion:—

“Monsieur Robert, the magistrate, you know, is questioning

Mademoiselle.”

Monsieur Darzac uttered a muttered excuse to us and set off running

towards the château, the man running after him.

“If the corpse can speak,” I said, “it would be interesting to be

there.”

“We must know,” said my friend. “Let’s go to the château.” And he drew

me with him. But, at the château, a gendarme placed in the vestibule

denied us admission up the staircase of the first floor. We were

obliged to wait down stairs.

This is what passed in the chamber of the victim while we were waiting

below.

The family doctor, finding that Mademoiselle Stangerson was much

better, but fearing a relapse which would no longer permit of her being

questioned, had thought it his duty to inform the examining magistrate

of this, who decided to proceed immediately with a brief examination.

At this examination, the Registrar, Monsieur Stangerson, and the

doctor were present. Later, I obtained the text of the report of the

examination, and I give it here, in all its legal dryness:—

“Question. Are you able, mademoiselle, without too much fatiguing

yourself, to give some necessary details of the frightful attack of

which you have been the victim?

“Answer. I feel much better, monsieur, and I will tell you all I know.

When I entered my chamber I did not notice anything unusual there.

“Q. Excuse me, mademoiselle,—if you will allow me, I will ask you some

questions and you will answer them. That will fatigue you less than

making a long recital.

“A. Do so, monsieur.

“Q. What did you do on that day?—I want you to be as minute and precise

as possible. I wish to know all you did that day, if it is not asking

too much of you.

“A. I rose late, at ten o’clock, for my father and I had returned home

late on the night previously, having been to dinner at the reception

given by the President of the Republic, in honour of the Academy of

Science of Philadelphia. When I left my chamber, at half-past ten,

my father was already at work in the laboratory. We worked together

till midday. We then took half-an-hour’s walk in the park, as we were

accustomed to do, before breakfasting at the château. After breakfast,

we took another walk for half an hour, and then returned to the

laboratory. There we found my chambermaid, who had come to set my room

in order. I went into The Yellow Room to give her some slight orders

and she directly afterwards left the pavilion, and I resumed my work

with my father. At five o’clock, we again went for a walk in the park

and afterward had tea.

“Q. Before leaving the pavilion at five o’clock, did you go into your

chamber?

“A. No, monsieur, my father went into it, at my request to bring me my

hat.

“Q. And he found nothing suspicious there?

“A. Evidently no, monsieur.

“Q. It is, then, almost certain that the murderer was not yet concealed

under the bed. When you went out, was the door of the room locked?

“A. No, there was no reason for locking it.

“Q. You were absent from the pavilion some length of time, Monsieur

Stangerson and you?

“A. About an hour.

“Q. It was during that hour, no doubt, that the murderer got into the

pavilion. But how? Nobody knows. Footmarks have been found in the park,

leading away from the window of the vestibule, but none has been found

going towards it. Did you notice whether the vestibule window was open

when you went out?

“A. I don’t remember.

“Monsieur Stangerson. It was closed.

“Q. And when you returned?

“Mademoiselle Stangerson. I did not notice.

“M. Stangerson. It was still closed. I remember remarking aloud: ‘Daddy

Jacques must surely have opened it while we were away.’

“Q. Strange!—Do you recollect, Monsieur Stangerson, if during your

absence, and before going out, he had opened it? You returned to the

laboratory at six o’clock and resumed work?

“Mademoiselle Stangerson. Yes, monsieur.

“Q. And you did not leave the laboratory from that hour up to the

moment when you entered your chamber?

“M. Stangerson. Neither my daughter nor I, monsieur. We were engaged on

work that was pressing, and we lost not a moment,—neglecting everything

else on that account.

“Q. Did you dine in the laboratory?

“A. For that reason.

“Q. Are you accustomed to dine in the laboratory?

“A. We rarely dine there.

“Q. Could the murderer have known that you would dine there that

evening?

“M. Stangerson. Good Heavens!—I think not. It was only when we returned

to the pavilion at six o’clock, that we decided, my daughter and I,

to dine there. At that moment I was spoken to by my gamekeeper, who

detained me a moment, to ask me to accompany him on an urgent tour of

inspection in a part of the woods which I had decided to thin. I put

this off until the next day, and begged him, as he was going by the

château, to tell the steward that we should dine in the laboratory.

He left me, to execute the errand and I rejoined my daughter, who was

already at work.

“Q. At what hour, mademoiselle, did you go to your chamber while your

father continued to work there?

“A. At midnight.

“Q. Did Daddy Jacques enter The Yellow Room in the course of the

evening?

“A. To shut the blinds and light the night-light.

“Q. He saw nothing suspicious?

“A. He would have told us if he had seen. Daddy Jacques is an honest

man and very attached to me.

“Q. You affirm, Monsieur Stangerson, that Daddy Jacques remained with

you all the time you were in the laboratory?

“M. Stangerson. I am sure of it. I have no doubt of that.

“Q. When you entered your chamber, mademoiselle, you immediately shut

the door and locked and bolted it? That was taking unusual precautions,

knowing that your father and your servant were there? Were you in fear

of something, then?

“A. My father would be returning to the château and Daddy Jacques would

be going to his bed. And, in fact, I _did_ fear something.

“Q. You were so much in fear of something that you borrowed Daddy

Jacques’s revolver without telling him you had done so?

“A. That is true. I did not wish to alarm anybody,—the more, because my

fears might have proved to have been foolish.

“Q. What was it you feared?

“A. I hardly know how to tell you. For several nights, I seemed to

hear, both in the park and out of the park, round the pavilion, unusual

sounds, sometimes footsteps, at other times the cracking of branches.

The night before the attack on me, when I did not get to bed before

three o’clock in the morning, on our return from the Élysée, I stood

for a moment before my window, and I felt sure I saw shadows.

“Q. How many?

“A. Two. They moved round the lake,—then the moon became clouded and

I lost sight of them. At this time of the season, every year, I have

generally returned to my apartment in the château for the winter; but

this year I said to myself that I would not quit the pavilion before

my father had finished the résumé of his works on the ‘Dissociation

of Matter’ for the Academy. I did not wish that that important work,

which was to have been finished in the course of a few days, should be

delayed by a change in our daily habit. You can well understand that

I did not wish to speak of my childish fears to my father, nor did I

say anything to Daddy Jacques who, I knew, would not have been able to

hold his tongue. Knowing that he had a revolver in his room, I took

advantage of his absence and borrowed it, placing it in the drawer of

my night-table.

“Q. You know of no enemies you have?

“A. None.

“Q. You understand, mademoiselle, that these precautions are calculated

to cause surprise?

“M. Stangerson. Evidently, my child, such precautions are very

surprising.

“A. No;—because I have told you that I had been uneasy for two nights.

“M. Stangerson. You ought to have told me of that! This misfortune

would have been avoided.

“Q. The door of The Yellow Room locked, did you go to bed?

“A. Yes, and, being very tired, I at once went to sleep.

“Q. The night-light was still burning?

“A. Yes, but it gave a very feeble light.

“Q. Then, mademoiselle, tell us what happened.

“A. I do not know whether I had been long asleep, but suddenly I

awoke—and uttered a loud cry.

“M. Stangerson. Yes—a horrible cry—‘Murder!’—It still rings in my ears.

“Q. You uttered a loud cry?

“A. A man was in my chamber. He sprang at me and tried to strangle

me. I was nearly stifled when suddenly I was able to reach the drawer

of my night-table and grasp the revolver which I had placed in it. At

that moment the man had forced me to the foot of my bed and brandished

over my head a sort of mace. But I had fired. He immediately struck a

terrible blow at my head. All that, monsieur, passed more rapidly than

I can tell it, and I know nothing more.

“Q. Nothing?—Have you no idea as to how the assassin could escape from

your chamber?

“A. None whatever—I know nothing more. One does not know what is

passing around one, when one is unconscious.

“Q. Was the man you saw tall or short, little or big?

“A. I only saw a shadow which appeared to me formidable.

“Q. You cannot give us any indication?

“A. I know nothing more, monsieur, than that a man threw himself upon

me and that I fired at him. I know nothing more.”

Here the interrogation of Mademoiselle Stangerson concluded.

Rouletabille waited patiently for Monsieur Robert Darzac, who soon

appeared.

From a room near the chamber of Mademoiselle Stangerson, he had heard

the interrogatory and now came to recount it to my friend with great

exactitude, aided by an excellent memory. His docility still surprised

me. Thanks to hasty pencil-notes, he was able to reproduce, almost

textually, the questions and the answers given.

It looked as if Monsieur Darzac were being employed as the secretary of

my young friend and acted as if he could refuse him nothing; nay, more,

as if under a compulsion to do so.

The fact of the closed window struck the reporter as it had struck the

magistrate. Rouletabille asked Darzac to repeat once more Mademoiselle

Stangerson’s account of how she and her father had spent their time on

the day of the tragedy, as she had stated it to the magistrate. The

circumstance of the dinner in the laboratory seemed to interest him in

the highest degree; and he had it repeated to him three times. He also

wanted to be sure that the forest-keeper knew that the professor and

his daughter were going to dine in the laboratory, and how he had come

to know it.

When Monsieur Darzac had finished, I said: “The examination has not

advanced the problem much.”

“It has put it back,” said Monsieur Darzac.

“It has thrown light upon it,” said Rouletabille, thoughtfully.