"
"Are there any blood stains?"
"Yes, on the stones outside; but blood of what?"
"Ah!" said Rouletabille, "there are footmarks visible on the path
--the ground was very moist. I will look into that presently."
"Nonsense!" interrupted Daddy Jacques; "the murderer did not go
that way."
"Which way did he go, then?"
"How do I know?"
Rouletabille looked at everything, smelled everything. He went down
on his knees and rapidly examined every one of the paving tiles.
Daddy Jacques went on:
"Ah!--you can't find anything, monsieur. Nothing has been found.
And now it is all dirty; too many persons have tramped over it.
They wouldn't let me wash it, but on the day of the crime I had
washed the floor thoroughly, and if the murderer had crossed it with
his hobnailed boots, I should not have failed to see where he had
been; he has left marks enough in Mademoiselle's chamber."
Rouletabille rose.
"When was the last time you washed these tiles?" he asked, and he
fixed on Daddy Jacques a most searching look.
"Why--as I told you--on the day of the crime, towards half-past
five--while Mademoiselle and her father were taking a little walk
before dinner, here in this room: they had dined in the laboratory.
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