"
CHAPTER XIII
"The Presbytery Has Lost Nothing of Its Charm, Nor the Garden
Its Brightness"
A week after the occurrence of the events I have just recounted--on
the 2nd of November, to be exact--I received at my home in Paris the
following telegraphic message: "Come to the Glandier by the earliest
train. Bring revolvers. Friendly greetings. Rouletabille."
I have already said, I think, that at that period, being a young
barrister with but few briefs, I frequented the Palais de Justice
rather for the purpose of familiarising myself with my professional
duties than for the defence of the widow and orphan. I could,
therefore, feel no surprise at Rouletabille disposing of my time.
Moreover, he knew how keenly interested I was in his journalistic
adventures in general and, above all, in the murder at the Glandier.
I had not heard from him for a week, nor of the progress made with
that mysterious case, except by the innumerable paragraphs in the
newspapers and by the very brief notes of Rouletabille in the
"Epoque." Those notes had divulged the fact that traces of human
blood had been found on the mutton-bone, as well as fresh traces of
the blood of Mademoiselle Stangerson--the old stains belonged to
other crimes, probably dating years back.
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