The Man Who Cast No Shadow
(Continued from page 162)
young lady, Dr. de Grandin, sor?” Detective Sergeant Costello asked respectfully, leaning forward from the rear seat of the car.
“Wait, wait, my friend,” de Grandin replied with a smile. "When our duties are all performed I shall tell you such a tale as shall make your two eyes to pop outward like a snail’s.. First, however, you must go with us to restore this pauvre enfant to her mother’s arms; then to the headquarters to report the death of that sale bête. Friend Trowbridge will stay with the young lady for so long as he deems necessary, and I shall remain with him to help. Then, this evening — with your consent, Friend Trow r bridge — you will dine with us, Sergent, and I shall tell you all, everything, in total. Death of my life, what a tale it is! Parbleu, but you shall call me a liar many times before it is finished ! ’ ’
Jules de grandin placed his demi-
tasse on the tabouret and refilled
his liqueur glass. “My friends,” he
began, turning his quick, elfish smile
first on Costello, then on me, “I have
promised you a remarkable tale.
Very well, then, to begin.”
He flicked a wholly imaginary fleck of dust from his dinner jacket sleeve and crossed his slender, womanishly ana 11 feet on the hearth rug.
“Do you recall, Friend Trow- bridge, how we went, you and I, to l he tea given by the good Madame Norman? Yes? Perhaps, then, you will recall how at the entrance of the ballroom I stopped with a look of as- 1 onishment on my face. Very good. At that moment I saw that which made me disbelieve the evidence of my own two eyes. As the gentleman we later met as Count Czerny danced past a mirror on the wall I beheld — parbleu! what do you suppose? — the reflection only of his dancing partner! It was as if the man had been non-existent, and the young lady had danced past the mirror by hei’self.
“Now, such a thing was not likely, I admit; you, Sergent, and you, too, Friend Trowbridge, will say it was not possible ; but such is not the case. In certain circumstances it is pos- sible for that which we see with our eyes to cast no shadow in a mirror. Let that point wait a moment; we have other evidence to consider first.
“When the young man told us of the count’s prowess in battle, of his imcomparable ferocity, I began to be- lieve that which I had at first disbe- lieved, and when he told us the count was a Hungarian, I began to believe more than ever.
“I met the count, as you will re- member, and I took his hand in mine. Parbleu, it was like a hand with no palm — it had hairs on both sides of it! You, too, Friend Trowbridge, remarked on that phenomenon.
“While I talked with him I man- aged to maneuver him before a mir- ror. Morbleu, the man was as if he had not been; I could see my own face smiling at me where I knew I should have seen the reflection of his shoulder !
“Now, attend me: The Sûreté Général — what you call the Police Headquarters — of Paris is not like your English and American bureaus. All facts, no matter however seemingly absurd, which come to that office are carefully noted down for future ref- erence. Among other histories I have read in the archives of that office was that of one Baron Lajos Czuczron of Transylvania, whose actions had once been watched by our secret agents.
