"Now for quick action! It was indeed time for that, for as I was about
to place my legs through the window, the man had seen me, had bounded
to his feet, had sprung--as I foresaw he would--to the door of the
ante-chamber, had time to open it, and fled. But I was already behind
him, revolver in hand, shouting 'Help!'

"Like an arrow I crossed the room, but noticed a letter on the table
as I rushed. I almost came up with the man in the ante-room, for he had
lost time in opening the door to the gallery. I flew on wings, and in
the gallery was but a few feet behind him. He had taken, as I supposed
he would, the gallery on his right,--that is to say, the road he had
prepared for his flight. 'Help, Jacques!--help, Larsan!' I cried. He
could not escape us! I raised a shout of joy, of savage victory. The man
reached the intersection of the two galleries hardly two seconds before
me for the meeting which I had prepared--the fatal shock which
must inevitably take place at that spot! We all rushed to the
crossing-place--Monsieur Stangerson and I coming from one end of the
right gallery, Daddy Jacques coming from the other end of the same
gallery, and Frederic Larsan coming from the 'off-turning' gallery.

"The man was not there!

"We looked at each other stupidly and with eyes terrified. The man had
vanished like a ghost. 'Where is he--where is he?' we all asked.

"'It is impossible he can have escaped!' I cried, my terror mastered by
my anger.

"'I touched him!' exclaimed Frederic Larsan.

"'I felt his breath on my face!' cried Daddy Jacques.

"'Where is he?'--where is he?' we all cried.

"We raced like madmen along the two galleries; we visited doors and
windows--they were closed, hermetically closed. They had not been
opened. Besides, the opening of a door or window by this man whom we
were hunting, without our having perceived it, would have been more
inexplicable than his disappearance.

"Where is he?--where is he?--He could not have got away by a door or
a window, nor by any other way. He could not have passed through our
bodies!

"I confess that, for the moment, I felt 'done for.' For the gallery was
perfectly lighted, and there was neither trap, nor secret door in the
walls, nor any sort of hiding-place. We moved the chairs and lifted the
pictures. Nothing!--nothing! We would have looked into a flower-pot, if
there had been one to look into!"

When this mystery, thanks to Rouletabille, was naturally explain