It was Mr. Ricardo’s habit as soon as the second week of August came round to travel to Aix-les-Bains, in Savoy, where for five or six weeks he lived pleasantly. He pretended to take the waters in the...

It was on a Monday evening that Ricardo saw Harry Wethermill and the girl Celia together. On the Tuesday he saw Wethermill in the rooms alone and had some talk with him. Wethermill was not playing tha...

Perrichet was a young, thickset man, with a red, fair face, and a moustache and hair so pale in colour that they were almost silver. He came into the room with an air of importance. “Aha!” said Hanaud...

The drive curved between trees and high bushes towards the back of the house, and as the party advanced along it a small, trim, soldier-like man, with a pointed beard, came to meet them. It was the ma...

Julius Ricardo pushed aside the curtains with a thrill of excitement. He found himself standing within a small oblong room which was prettily, even daintily, furnished. On his left, close by the reces...

A nurse opened the door. Within the room Hélène Vauquier was leaning back in a chair. She looked ill, and her face was very white. On the appearance of Hanaud, the Commissaire, and the others, however...

Harry Wethermill, however, was not so easily satisfied. “Surely, monsieur, it would be well to know whither she is going,” he said, “and to make sure that when she has gone there she will stay there⁠—...

Hanaud walked away from the Villa Rose in the company of Wethermill and Ricardo. “We will go and lunch,” he said. “Yes; come to my hotel,” said Harry Wethermill. But Hanaud shook his head. “No; come w...

They got into a cab outside the door. Perrichet mounted the box, and the cab was driven along the upward-winding road past the Hotel Bernascon. A hundred yards beyond the hotel the cab stopped opposit...

The next morning, however, before Mr. Ricardo was out of his bed, M. Hanaud was announced. He came stepping gaily into the room, more elephantinely elfish than ever. “Send your valet away,” he said. A...

The hall of the hotel had been cleared of people. At the entrance from the corridor a porter barred the way. “No one can pass,” said he. “I think that I can,” said Hanaud, and he produced his card. “F...

“I have telephoned to Lemerre, the Chef de la Sûreté at Geneva,” said Hanaud, as the car sped out of Aix along the road to Annecy. “He will have the house watched. We shall be in time. They will do no...

It was well, Mr. Ricardo thought, that someone understood. For himself, he frankly admitted that he did not. Indeed, in his view the first principles of reasoning seemed to be set at naught. It was ob...

Ricardo passed a most tempestuous night. He was tossed amongst dark problems. Now it was Harry Wethermill who beset him. He repeated and repeated the name, trying to grasp the new and sinister suggest...

The story begins with the explanation of that circumstance which had greatly puzzled Mr. Ricardo⁠—Celia’s entry into the household of Mme. Dauvray. Celia’s father was a Captain Harland, of a marching ...

On the Friday before the crime was committed Mme. Dauvray and Celia dined at the Villa des Fleurs. While they were drinking their coffee Harry Wethermill joined them. He stayed with them until Mme. Da...

Mme. Dauvray and Celia found Adèle Rossignol, to give Adèle Tacé the name which she assumed, waiting for them impatiently in the garden of an hotel at Annecy, on the Promenade du Paquier. She was a ta...

Hélène Vauquier locked the door of the salon upon the inside and placed the key upon the mantelshelf, as she had always done whenever a séance had been held. The curtains had been loosened at the side...

And what she heard made her blood run cold. Mme. Dauvray spoke in a hushed, awestruck voice. “There is a presence in the room.” It was horrible to Celia that the poor woman was speaking the jargon whi...

The car had nearly reached Annecy before Celia woke to consciousness. And even then she was dazed. She was only aware that she was in the motorcar and travelling at a great speed. She lay back, drinki...

This is the story as Mr. Ricardo wrote it out from the statement of Celia herself and the confession of Adèle Rossignol. Obscurities which had puzzled him were made clear. But he was still unaware how...