"Do you mean Frederic Larsan!" exclaimed the President.

"Yes! Frederic Larsan!" replied Rouletabille in a ringing tone.
"Frederic Larsan is the murderer!"

The court-room became immediately filled with loud and indignant
protests. So astonished was he that the President did not attempt
to quiet it. The quick silence which followed was broken by the
distinctly whispered words from the lips of Robert Darzac:

"It's impossible! He's mad!"

"You dare to accuse Frederic Larsan, Monsieur?" asked the President.
"If you are not mad, what are your proofs?"

"Proofs, Monsieur?--Do you want proofs? Well, here is one," cried
Rouletabille shrilly. "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.