But, baffled, he ceased his inspection.
"Curse it! There are three policemen before that exit."
He scraped a match and reviewed the place in which he found himself—which for that matter he knew better than any one.
Facing him stood the dilapidated stove and at his feet shimmered the cistern.
All at once Fantômas clenched his fists. Under the increasing blows of the detective and his men the door of the basement yielded. Above the crash of the boards and iron-work Juve's voice rang out:
"Fantômas! Surrender!"
Fantômas groped in the darkness. His hand came on a bottle. A crackle of shattered glass was heard, Fantômas had taken the bottle by the neck and broken it against the wall.
Juve, revolver in hand, followed by Fandor, moved cautiously down the stairs to the cellar: both men were brave, yet they felt their hearts beating as though they would burst.
Juve reached the last step. He pressed the knob of his electric torch; a rush of light lit up the little room. It was empty!