Wulf
with folded arms stood contemplating him. Various problems were engaging
Juve's thoughts, whose day had been exceedingly busy.

After being satisfied that Frederick-Christian was really back again at
the Royal Palace, the question arose as to what had become of him after
his disappearance. A hurried visit to Fandor's lodgings disclosed the
fact that the journalist, after a brief absence, had returned home for
an hour and had then disappeared again.

"Upon my word," he thought, "he might at least have sent me some word.
He must know how anxious I would be about him."

From Fandor's house Juve had gone direct to Susy d'Orsel's apartment. It
was a theory of his that a good detective could never visit too often
the scene of a crime. Mechanically he went through the various rooms
until he reached the kitchen.

"I have a feeling that something happened here," he muttered, "but
what?"

A close examination of the floor showed distinct traces of feet in some
fine coal dust. These traces proved to be those of a woman's shoes,
small, elegant and well made. They could not possibly belong to Mother
Citron nor to Susy d'Orsel, who, he recalled, had worn satin mules on
the night of the murder. The person who immediately presented herself to
Juve's mind was Marie Pascal.

"The deuce!" he cried, "this becomes complicated. This coal dust and
these imprints were not here a few days ago, therefore some one has been
here since and has evidently been at pains to lay a false trail!"

With the intention of examining the servants' staircase again, he let
himself out with a pass-key and began the descent. But so absorbed was
he in his thoughts that unconsciously he went down one flight too many
and found himself in the cellar of the building. Juve, following his
custom of never neglecting to search even the most unsuspicious places,
lit his electric light and examined the room he had entered.

On either side of the cellar were ranged a number of doors, all securely
padlocked. These were evidently the private cellars of the tenants. As
he threw his light on the floor, he could not repress a movement of
surprise. Dropping on all fours, he began a close examination of the
ground.

"Now I begin to see daylight. For some time I have had the conviction
that Frederick-Christian, upon leaving Fandor made his escape by the
servants' staircase, and thus left the house. But I could not understand
why he had not returned to his hotel. My con