There was one moment when there was but one person,--Monsieur Stangerson.

Unless a complicity of silence on the part of Daddy Jacques is admitted--in which I do not believe--the door was opened in the presence of Monsieur Stangerson alone and the man escaped.
"Here we must admit that Monsieur Stangerson had powerful reasons for not arresting, or not causing the arrest of the murderer, since he allowed him to reach the window in the vestibule and closed it after him!--That done, Mademoiselle Stangerson, though horribly wounded, had still strength enough, and no doubt in obedience to the entreaties of her father, to refasten the door of her chamber, with both the bolt and the lock, before sinking on the floor.

We do not know who committed the crime; we do not know of what wretch Monsieur and Mademoiselle Stangerson are the victims, but there is no doubt that they both know! The secret must be a terrible one, for the father had not hesitated to leave his daughter to die behind a door which she had shut upon herself,--terrible for him to have allowed the assassin to escape.

For there is no other way in the world to explain the murderer's flight from The Yellow Room!" The silence which followed this dramatic and lucid explanation was appalling.

We all of us felt grieved for the illustrious professor, driven into a corner by the pitiless logic of Frederic Larsan, forced to confess the whole truth of his martyrdom or to keep silent, and thus make a yet more terrible admission.