Having explained so far, I cannot refrain from making one further
reflection. If I have lingered a little over this description of
the Glandier, it is not because I have reached the right moment for
creating the necessary atmosphere for the unfolding of the tragedy
before the eyes of the reader. Indeed, in all this matter, my
first care will be to be as simple as is possible. I have no
ambition to be an author. An author is always something of a
romancer, and God knows, the mystery of The Yellow Room is quite
full enough of real tragic horror to require no aid from literary
effects. I am, and only desire to be, a faithful "reporter." My
duty is to report the event; and I place the event in its frame
--that is all. It is only natural that you should know where the
things happened.

I return to Monsieur Stangerson. When he bought the estate, fifteen
years before the tragedy with which we are engaged occurred, the
Chateau du Glandier had for a long time been unoccupied. Another
old chateau in the neighbourhood, built in the fourteenth century
by Jean de Belmont, was also abandoned, so that that part of the
country was very little inhabited. Some small houses on the side
of the road leading to Corbeil, an inn, called the "Auberge du
Donjon," which offered passing hospitality to waggoners; these
were about all to represent civilisation in this out-of-the-way
part of the country, but a few leagues from the capital.

But this deserted condition of the place had been the determining
reason for the choice made by Monsieur Stangerson and his daughter.
Monsieur Stangerson was already celebrated. He had returned from
America, where his works had made a great stir. The book which he