There must be some important marks there." A few minutes later we reached the lake.
It was a little sheet of marshy water, surrounded by reeds, on which floated some dead water-lily leaves.

The great Fred may have seen us approaching, but we probably interested him very little, for he took hardly any notice of us and continued to be stirring with his cane something which we could not see.
"Look!" said Rouletabille, "here again are the footmarks of the escaping man; they skirt the lake here and finally disappear just before this path, which leads to the high road to Epinay.

The man continued his flight to Paris." "What makes you think that ?" I asked, "since these footmarks are not continued on the path ?" "What makes me think that ?--Why these footprints, which I expected to find!" he cried, pointing to the sharply outlined imprint of a neat boot.

"See!"-- and he called to Frederic Larsan.
"Monsieur Fred, these neat footprints seem to have been made since the discovery of the crime." "Yes, young man, yes, they have been carefully made," replied Fred without raising his head.

"You see, there are steps that come, and steps that go back." "And the man had a bicycle!" cried the reporter.
Here, after looking at the marks of the bicycle, which followed, going and coming, the neat footprints, I thought I might intervene.
"The bicycle explains the disappearance of the murderer's big foot-prints," I said.