They slipped through a dormer window, found themselves in a loft and crossed a staircase.
"Let me go. I'll get down on one foot."
The Nut did not even hear him. Startled faces appeared in the doorways.
"Go bade to bed, all of you, damn it!" shouted Chéri-Bibi. "I don't want to see your mugs. Keep quiet or I'll murder you!" Then, turning to the Nut, he said: "Another minute and we shall reach the car. All the same, I should never have thought you were so strong. I must say that ten years in a penal settlement have given you a bit of muscle!"
They reached the passage on the ground floor from which they could signal to the car. Afterwards they would have but to start off at full speed.
"I hear the car. The Dodger has grasped the situation. He has set his engine going."
The Nut, who still bore Chéri-Bibi's immense weight on his shoulders, ventured to glance into the street.
"Yes, the car is there!" he said.
"Not a bit of it, she's not there," squeaked Chéri-Bibi. "Fatalitas! That's the police car!"
He assumed that de Saynthine and his confederates had managed in their escape to jump into the car driven by Hilaire before they arrived, which was obviously not in Chéri-Bibi's plan. He had provided for everything that might happen except the intervention of the police.