Chapter XXV.
Rouletabille Goes on a Journey
That same evening Rouletabille and I left the Glandier. We were very glad to get away and there was nothing more to keep us there. I declared my intention to give up the whole matter. It had been too much for me. Rouletabille, with a friendly tap on my shoulder, confessed that he had nothing more to learn at the Glandier; he had learned there all it had to tell him. We reached Paris about eight o’clock, dined, and then, tired out, we separated, agreeing to meet the next morning at my rooms.
Rouletabille arrived next day at the hour agreed on. He was dressed in a suit of English tweed, with an ulster on his arm, and a valise in his hand. Evidently he had prepared himself for a journey.
“How long shall you be away?” I asked.
“A month or two,” he said. “It all depends.”
I asked him no more questions.
“Do you know,” he asked, “what the word was that Mademoiselle Stangerson tried to say before she fainted?”
“No—nobody heard it.”
“I heard it!” replied Rouletabille. “She said ‘Speak!’ ”
“Do you think Darzac will speak?”
“Never.”
I was about to make some further observations, but he wrung my hand warmly and wished me good-bye. I had only time to ask him one question before he left.
“Are you not afraid that other attempts may be made while you’re away?”
“No! Not now that Darzac is in prison,” he answered.
With this strange remark he left. I was not to see him again until the day of Darzac’s trial at the court when he appeared to explain the inexplicable.