agualame was right. The police had surrounded the mysterious shop.

Noiselessly, gliding past the houses like shadows, revolver in hand,
dark lantern at waist, fifteen detectives in plain clothes had
converged on the tall house in the blind alley.

Juve was speaking low.

"Careful, Michel! We have seen our birds enter. They are inside.... I
shall follow them!... Meanwhile, do not stir from this door.... There
is no other issue.... Do not allow a soul to pass--not one!"

"Never fear, Juve!"

Information dropped by Corporal Vinson, who had been taken to _The
Crying Calf_ by Vagualame, more than once had caused Juve to keep a
strict watch on the wine-shop for some days. He had seen first
Bobinette and then Vagualame enter the place.... When Bobinette came
out, almost immediately, he felt sure she had not had time for a talk
with Vagualame.... When Vagualame soon followed, Juve had shadowed the
old accordion player in the darkness: behind him followed his men on
the trail of both.

When he saw Vagualame and Bobinette enter the library he exclaimed, in
thought:

"I have them!... I know the house! I am going to arrest Fantomas and
his accomplice!"

Cool as a cucumber now that the decisive, ardently-longed-for moment
was at hand, Juve repeated his instructions: he did not mean to leave
anything to chance.

"You understand then, Michel, not one single person is to leave these
premises. Even I can only be permitted to pass when I say to you: 'It
is I, Juve, ... Let me pass!' You thoroughly understand?"

"Perfectly," replied Michel.

Juve turned to his four picked men:

"Gentlemen! Are you ready?"

Revolver in one hand, lantern in the other, Juve knocked loudly on the
shuttered shop door.

"In the name of the law! Open! Open! Open!... The police!"

A bare three minutes had elapsed between Juve's first summons and the
opening of the library door.

Vagualame had made profitable use of the three minutes.

"Don't utter a sound! Don't be afraid!" Vagualame had repeated to
Bobinette: "They will not take us this time!"

Hustled, dragged to the spot already described, Bobinette now felt the
ground giving way beneath her. She rolled on to a steeply inclined
plane. Gliding down into the void, clutching Vagualame, she heard a
dull sound: it was the trap falling to.

"Quiet!" repeated Vagualame, as Bobinette rolled on to the wood
flooring of a sort of cellar piled high with books. He signed to the
girl to listen.