When we were in a tiny sitting-room fitted with old furniture, Monsieur Darzac turned to Rouletabille and said sharply: "What do you want ?" The reporter answered in an equally sharp tone: "To shake you by the hand." Darzac shrank back.
"What does that mean ?" Evidently he understood, what I also understood, that my friend suspected him of the abominable attempt on the life of Mademoiselle Stangerson.

The impression of the blood-stained hand on the walls of The Yellow Room was in his mind.

I looked at the man closely.

His haughty face with its expression ordinarily so straightforward was at this moment strangely troubled.

He held out his right hand and, referring to me, said: "As you are a friend of Monsieur Sainclair who has rendered me invaluable services in a just cause, monsieur, I see no reason for refusing you my hand--" Rouletabille did not take the extended hand.