They heard the gallop of the patrols, and a voice in the distance shouted:
"Chéri-Bibi's done for."
The Parisian, the Burglar, the Caid and the Joker, after getting away through the underground passage, reached the outlet without hindrance.
"Congratulations to Chéri-Bibi," said the Joker as he inhaled the cool night air. "He ought to have been born a mole!"
"Shut up and let's get on with it," interjected the Burglar. "It won't be long before Chéri-Bibi comes back for news of the Nut. . . . Look out how we go."
They followed the high rocks which skirted the sea, and at times the waves buried them up to the knees.
"Halt!" cried the Parisian.
"Thanks for the foot-bath," grunted the Joker.
"Me always satisfied, never ill, never die," babbled the Caid.
"If we go a step farther Chéri-Bibi will see us," exclaimed the Parisian.