"Now, this is what we must do," he cautioned Fandor. "Above us is a loft--we will search it first; if it is empty, we will close it again. Then we will come down again, taking each room in turn and locking it after us. At the slightest sound fling yourself on the ground and let Fantômas fire first; the flash of the shot will tell us where it comes from." The two man-hunters searched the loft without success. At the first floor Juve repressed a slight tremor, for the handle of the door leading into Lady Beltham's room creaked ominously. He opened it, springing aside quickly, expecting to be fired at. The room was empty, no trace of Fantômas. The two passed into another room, then as soon as their visitation was completed locked up the apartment. Suddenly, as they reached the foot of the stairs, Juve gave a violent start. From the door of the drawing-room a shadow, black from head to foot, came bounding out. Quick as lightning the form crossed the ante-room, then plunged by a low entrance into the cellarage. Two shots rang out! Fantômas drew behind him a big bar and prided himself on the barrier he thus put between his pursuers and himself. But despite his consummate confidence, he was beginning to feel a certain uneasiness, an undeniable anxiety. His black mask clung to his temples, dripping with sweat. He crossed the basement to the little air-hole overlooking the garden. "That is a way of escape," he thought, "unless----" 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! Juve went the round of the cellar, carefully inspecting the walls and sounding them with the butt of his revolver. He went round the cistern. Its surface was black and still. A broken bottle, floating head downward, remained half immersed, absolutely motionless. Fandor laid his hand on the detective's arm. "Did you hear; some one breathed!" Beyond doubt some one had breathed! "Idiots that we are! He is in there," cried Juve, pointing to the pipe of the great stove.