Nearly two years passed in this way, and the better I knew him, the
more I learned to love him; for, in spite of his careless
extravagance, I had discovered in him what was, considering his age,
an extraordinary seriousness of mind. Accustomed as I was to seeing
him gay and, indeed, often too gay, I would many times find him
plunged in the deepest melancholy. I tried then to question him as
to the cause of this change of humour, but each time he laughed and
made me no answer. One day, having questioned him about his parents,
of whom he never spoke, he left me, pretending not to have heard
what I said.

While things were in this state between us, the famous case of The
Yellow Room took place. It was this case which was to rank him as
the leading newspaper reporter, and to obtain for him the reputation
of being the greatest detective in the world. It should not surprise
us to find in the one man the perfection of two such lines of
activity if we remember that the daily press was already beginning
to transform itself and to become what it is to-day--the gazette
of crime.

Morose-minded people may complain of this; for myself I regard it
a matter for congratulation. We can never have too many arms,
public or private, against the criminal. To this some people may
answer that, by continually publishing the details of crimes, the
press ends by encouraging their commission. But then, with some
people we can never do right. Rouletabille, as I have said, entered
my room that morning of the 26th of October, 1892. He was looking
redder than usual, and his eyes were bulging out of his head, as
the phrase is, and altogether he appeared to be in a state of
extreme excitement. He waved the "Matin" with a trembling hand,