Quickly he pushed away the table from the centre of the room, and, kicking aside the Japanese grass-mats, there was revealed in the floor a trap-door with an iron ring in it. Without more ado he lifted the heavy flap, disclosing the cavernous darkness of a kind of shaft which led to the cellar, whence there was a secret exit into a neighbouring street. Placing his foot upon the first rung of the rickety ladder, he quickly disappeared, closing the flap after him and bolting it from beneath. Thus Adolphe, robbed and imprisoned by the man he had trusted so implicitly, was left to his fate. Scarcely had the fugitive, carrying with him the whole of the booty, closed down the flap in the floor when Adolphe, whose hand was very painful and bleeding profusely, suddenly heard the voices below. He started, crept to the window, and looked cautiously down into the courtyard. Two men were there--men whom he instantly recognised as police agents in plain clothes. "The Eel" listened for a second, then dashed to the door to warn Ralph. He turned the handle, but, to his surprise and dismay, found the door bolted. "Ralph! Ralph!" he cried. "Are you there? Quick! Let me in! The police!" There was no response. "Ralph!" he repeated. "Quick! The police are below!" And he tugged frantically at the door. But it was securely fastened. He was caught--like a rat in a trap! Bending, he peered through the keyhole, surprised to discover that the table had been moved. He could see, too, that the matting had been cast aside, revealing the trap-door. That house had long been the abode of thieves. Bonnemain himself had lived in those same rooms for six years, and he had had the secret exit constructed. More than once it had been used, and the fugitive escaped by that secret way. In a moment the grim truth flashed across Adolphe's mind. Ansell had for some reason bolted the door, and had forgotten to unlock it before escaping. But why had he not warned him? The voices outside were now raised, and he could hear the tramp of several other men over the moss-grown stones of the weedy courtyard. Not a second was to be lost; therefore, taking up one of the rush-bottomed chairs and raising it above his head, he advanced to the door and brought it down with a crash upon the panel just over the lock. A great crack showed, and by a second heavy blow the panel gave way sufficiently to allow him to insert his hand and draw the bolt from the opposite side. He dashed across the living-room to where his coat hung, in order to seize his portion of the booty. Quickly he searched the pockets, but in vain! The notes were gone! Then, for the first time, he realised that he had been robbed, and from his dry lips there fell a fierce vow of vengeance against the man whose willing tool he had been--the man whose wife had left him because of his callous brutality.