disdain for the great
Fred. It all depended as to whether Larsan's discoveries tallied with
Rouletabille's reasoning or not. When they did he would exclaim: "He
is really great!" When they did not he would grunt and mutter, "What an
ass!" It was a petty side of the noble character of this strange youth.

We had risen, and he led me into the park. When we reached the court and
were making towards the gate, the sound of blinds thrown back against
the wall made us turn our heads, and we saw, at a window on the first
floor of the chateau, the ruddy and clean shaven face of a person I did
not recognise.

"Hullo!" muttered Rouletabille. "Arthur Rance!"--He lowered his head,
quickened his pace, and I heard him ask himself between his teeth: "Was
he in the chateau that night? What is he doing here?"

We had gone some distance from the chateau when I asked him who this
Arthur Rance was, and how he had come to know him. He referred to his
story of that morning and I remembered that Mr. Arthur W. Rance was the
American from Philadelphia with whom he had had so many drinks at the
Elysee reception.

"But was he not to have left France almost immediately?" I asked.

"No doubt; that's why I am surprised to find him here still, and not
only in France, but above all, at the Glandier. He did not arrive this
morning; and he did not get here last night. He must have got here
before dinner, then. Why didn't the concierges tell me?"

I reminded my friend, apropos of the concierges, that he had not yet
told me what had led him to get them set at liberty.

We were close to their lodge. Monsieur and Madame Bernier saw us coming.
A frank smile lit up their happy faces. They seemed to harbour no
ill-feeling because of their detention. My young friend asked them at
what hour Mr. Arthur Rance had arrived. They answered that they did not
know he was at the chateau. He must have come during the evening of the
previous night, but they had not had to open the gate for him, because,
being a great walker, and not wishing that a carriage should be sent
to meet him, he was accustomed to get off at the little hamlet of
Saint-Michel, from which he came to the chateau by way of the forest. He
reached the park by the grotto of Sainte-Genevieve, over the little gate
of which, giving on to the park, he climbed.

As the concierges spoke, I saw Rouletabille's face cloud over and
exhibit disappointment--a disappointment, no doubt, with himself.
Evidently