The Mystery of the Yellow Room Extraordinary Adventures of Joseph Rouletabille Reporter by Gaston Leroux [Frontispiece: Joseph Rouletabille] Contents I. In which we Begin not to Understand II. In which Joseph Rouletabille Appears for the First Time III. “A Man Has Passed like a Shadow through the Blinds” IV. “In the Bosom of Wild Nature” V. In which Joseph Rouletabille Makes a Remark to Monsieur Robert Darzac which Produces its Little Effect VI. In the Heart of the Oak Grove VII. In which Rouletabille Sets out on an Expedition under the Bed VIII. The Examining Magistrate Questions Mademoiselle Stangerson IX. Reporter and Detective X. “We shall have to eat Red Meat—Now” XI. In which Frédéric Larsan Explains how the Murderer was Able to get out of The Yellow Room XII. Frédéric Larsan’s Cane XIII. “The Presbytery has Lost Nothing of its Charm, nor the Garden its Brightness” XIV. “I Expect the Assassin this Evening” XV. The Trap XVI. Strange Phenomenon of the Dissociation of Matter XVII. The Inexplicable Gallery XVIII. Rouletabille has Drawn a Circle between the Two Bumps on his Forehead XIX. Rouletabille Invites me to Breakfast at the Donjon Inn XX. An Act of Mademoiselle Stangerson XXI. On the Watch XXII. The Incredible Body XXIII. The Double Scent XXIV. Rouletabille Knows the Two Halves of the Murderer XXV. Rouletabille Goes on a Journey XXVI. In which Joseph Rouletabille is Awaited with Impatience XXVII. In which Joseph Rouletabille Appears in all his Glory XXVIII. In which it is Proved that one does not Always Think of Everything XXIX. The Mystery of Mademoiselle Stangerson Chapter I In Which We Begin not to Understand It is not without a certain emotion that I begin to recount here the extraordinary adventures of Joseph Rouletabille. Down to the present time he had so firmly opposed my doing it that I had come to despair of ever publishing the most curious of police stories of the past fifteen years. I had even imagined that the public would never know the whole truth of the prodigious case known as that of “The Yellow Room,” out of which grew so many mysterious, cruel, and sensational dramas, with which my friend was so closely mixed up, if, à propos of a recent nomination of the illustrious Stangerson to the grade of grand-cross of the Legion of Honour, an evening journal—in an article, miserable for its ignorance, or audacious for its perfidy—had not resuscitated a terrible adventure of which Joseph Rouletabille had told me he wished to be for ever forgotten.