indefinable smile.

"Could not that blood-stained hand," I interrupted, "have been the hand
of Mademoiselle Stangerson who, in the moment of falling, had pressed it
against the wall, and, in slipping, enlarged the impression?"

"There was not a drop of blood on either of her hands when she was
lifted up," replied Monsieur Darzac.

"We are now sure," said I, "that it was Mademoiselle Stangerson who was
armed with Daddy Jacques's revolver, since she wounded the hand of the
murderer. She was in fear, then, of somebody or something."

"Probably."

"Do you suspect anybody?"

"No," replied Monsieur Darzac, looking at Rouletabille. Rouletabille
then said to me:

"You must know, my friend, that the inquiry is a little more advanced
than Monsieur de Marquet has chosen to tell us. He not only knows that
Mademoiselle Stangerson defended herself with the revolver, but he knows
what the weapon was that was used to attack her. Monsieur Darzac tells
me it was a mutton-bone. Why is Monsieur de Marquet surrounding
this mutton-bone with so much mystery? No doubt for the purpose of
facilitating the inquiries of the agents of the Surete? He imagines,
perhaps, that the owner of this instrument of crime, the most terrible
invented, is going to be found amongst those who are well-known in the
slums of Paris who use it. But who can ever say what passes through the
brain of an examining magistrate?" Rouletabille added with contemptuous
irony.

"Has a mutton-bone been found in The Yellow Room?" I asked him.

"Yes, Monsieur," said Robert Darzac, "at the foot of the bed; but I beg
of you not to say anything about it." (I made a gesture of assent.) "It
was an enormous mutton-bone, the top of which, or rather the joint, was
still red with the blood of the frightful wound. It was an old bone,
which may, according to appearances, have served in other crimes. That's
what Monsieur de Marquet thinks. He has had it sent to the municipal
laboratory at Paris to be analysed. In fact, he thinks he has detected
on it, not only the blood of the last victim, but other stains of dried
blood, evidences of previous crimes."

"A mutton-bone in the hand of a skilled assassin is a frightful weapon,"
said Rouletabille, "a more certain weapon than a heavy hammer."

"The scoundrel has proved it to be so," said Monsieur Robert Darzac,
sadly. "The joint of the bone found exactly fits the wound inflicted.

"My belief is that the wound would have been mortal, i