to the perspicacity of the popular detective. Others who had
arrived at a different solution, naturally insisted that this was
Rouletabille's explanation, though they did not as yet know what
that was.

With the day's "Epoque" in their hands, the "Larsans" and the
"Rouletabilles" fought and shoved each other on the steps of the
Palais de Justice, right into the court itself. Those who could
not get in remained in the neighbourhood until evening and were,
with great difficulty, kept back by the soldiery and the police.
They became hungry for news, welcoming the most absurd rumours.
At one time the rumour spread that Monsieur Stangerson himself had
been arrested in the court and had confessed to being the murderer.
This goes to show to what a pitch of madness nervous excitement
may carry people. Rouletabille was still expected. Some pretended
to know him; and when a young man with a "pass" crossed the open
space which separated the crowd from the Court House, a scuffle
took place. Cries were raised of "Rouletabille!--there's
Rouletabille!" The arrival of the manager of the paper was the
signal for a great demonstration. Some applauded, others hissed.

The trial itself was presided over by Monsieur de Rocouz, a judge
filled with the prejudice of his class, but a man honest at heart.
The witnesses had been called. I was there, of course, as were all
who had, in any way, been in touch with the mysteries of the
Glandier. Monsieur Stangerson--looking many years older and almost
unrecognisable--Larsan, Arthur Rance, with his face ruddy as ever,
Daddy Jacques, Daddy Mathieu, who was brought into court handcuffed
between two gendarmes, Madame Mathieu, in tears, the two Berniers,
the two nurses, the steward, all the domestics of the chateau, the