"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.