the last supper painting

the last supper painting
I looked closely at Rouletabille and could not help smiling, on hearing this boy of eighteeen talking of a man who had proved to the world that he was the finest police sleuth in Europe.
"You smile," he said? "you are wrong! I swear I will outwit him - and in a striking way! But I must make haste about it, for he has an enormous start on me - given him by Monsieur Robert Darzac, who is this evening going to increase it still more. Think of it! - every time the murderer comes to the chateau, Monsieur Darzac, by a strange fatality, absents himself and refuses to give any account of how he employs his time."
"Every time the assassin comes to the chateau!" I cried. "Has he returned then -?"
"Yes, during that famous night when the strange phenomenon occurred."
I was now going to learn about the astonishing phenomenon to which Rouletabille had allusion half an hour earlier without giving me any explanation of it. But I had learned never to press Rouletabille in his narratives. He spoke when the fancy took him and when he judged it to be right. He was less concerned about my curiosity than he was for making a complete summing up for himself of any important matter in which he was interested.