'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.
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