"What have you discovered, M. Pouce," I eagerly asked.
"I cannot, I must not tell you now. All I can say is that it is about the black gowns worn by the murderers...."
"Have they been found? Have their owners been traced?..." I was frantic with excitement.
"Madame, I am not allowed to speak on the matter. But I can tell you this: Your troubles will soon cease and the murderers will be in our hands.... Don't ask me any more questions. I cannot answer them. And now will you kindly look at this photograph, and tell me if you see any one there who reminds you... of some one."
The photograph represented a group of three persons: two men and a woman. I seemed to recognise one of the men, a bearded person with sharp shaped features and keen eyes.
"There is a striking likeness," I said, "between this man and the red-bearded individual who on the night of May 30th-31st, stood near the door of the corridor, in the room, and who never spoke."
M. Pouce showed his delight: "We are on the right track, madame," he said in tones of great satisfaction. "I thought that was one of the men." And once more he repeated: "We shall run the murderers down."
Inspector Pouce was mistaken and so was I—as I realised months afterwards—the bearded man of the photograph was not one of the murderers. He was Mr. Burlingham, an American journalist, and I will deal in another chapter with the story of this false scent.
It was several weeks after the day when Inspector Pouce showed me the photograph, that I learned all about the "extraordinary facts" which he had not been at liberty to reveal to me before, the facts which had made him assert that "the mystery would soon be unravelled."
When the reader has heard what those facts were he will not fail to admit that Inspector Pouce was right to call them "extraordinary"; they were indeed more than that; they were conclusive. Here they are: