The next day, the examining magistrate came and saw all the marks
there were on the floor as plainly as if they had been made with
ink on white paper. Well, neither in the laboratory nor in the
vestibule, which were both as clean as a new pin, were there any
traces of a man's footmarks. Since they have been found near this
window outside, he must have made his way through the ceiling of
The Yellow Room into the attic, then cut his way through the roof
and dropped to the ground outside the vestibule window. But
--there's no hole, neither in the ceiling of The Yellow Room nor
in the roof of my attic--that's absolutely certain! So you see
we know nothing--nothing! And nothing will ever be known! It's
a mystery of the Devil's own making."
Rouletabille went down upon his knees again almost in front of a
small lavatory at the back of the vestibule. In that position he
remained for about a minute.
"Well?" I asked him when he got up.
"Oh! nothing very important,--a drop of blood," he replied,
turning towards Daddy Jacques as he spoke. "While you were washing
the laboratory and this vestibule, was the vestibule window open?"
he asked.
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