all his life had had but one passion,--that of dramatic art.
Throughout his magisterial career he was interested solely in cases
capable of furnishing him with something in the nature of a drama.
Though he might very well have aspired to the highest judicial
positions, he had never really worked for anything but to win a
success at the romantic Porte-Saint-Martin, or at the sombre Odeon.

Because of the mystery which shrouded it, the case of The Yellow
Room was certain to fascinate so theatrical a mind. It interested
him enormously, and he threw himself into it, less as a magistrate
eager to know the truth, than as an amateur of dramatic embroglios,
tending wholly to mystery and intrigue, who dreads nothing so much
as the explanatory final act.

So that, at the moment of meeting him, I heard Monsieur de Marquet
say to the Registrar with a sigh:

"I hope, my dear Monsieur Maleine, this builder with his pickaxe
will not destroy so fine a mystery."

"Have no fear," replied Monsieur Maleine, "his pickaxe may demolish
the pavilion, perhaps, but it will leave our case intact. I have
sounded the walls and examined the ceiling and floor and I know all
about it. I am not to be deceived."

Having thus reassured his chief, Monsieur Maleine, with a discreet
movement of the head, drew Monsieur de Marquet's attention to us.
The face of that gentleman clouded, and, as he saw Rouletabille
approaching, hat in hand, he sprang into one of the empty carriages
saying, half aloud to his Registrar, as he did so, "Above all, no