“Oh, monsieur,” said the chief, “you are free to go through all the maneuvers you wish.  No one escapes us.  Outside we should have you within arm’s reach quite as well as here.  And, besides, it is entirely impossible to escape from here.”

“Very well.  Then that is understood.  In such a case, I ask you now to remain just where you are and not to budge, whatever I do, if you don’t wish to inconvenience me.  Only please send someone now up to the next floor, where I am going to go again, and let him watch what happens from there, but without interfering.  And don’t speak a word to me during the experiment.”

Two of the revolutionaries went to the upper floor, and opened a window in order to keep track of what went on in the court.  All now showed their intense interest in the acts and gestures of Rouletabille.

The reporter placed himself in the shed, between his death-stool and his hanging-rope.

“Ready,” said he; “I am going to begin”

And suddenly he jumped like a wild man, crossed the court in a straight line like a flash, disappeared in the touba, bounded up the staircase, felt in his pocket and drew out the keys, opened the door of the chamber he had locked, closed it and locked it again, turned right-about-face, came down again in the same haste, reached the court, and this time swerved to the chair, went round it, still running, and returned at the same speed to the shed.  He no sooner reached there than he uttered a cry of triumph as he glanced at the watch banging from a post.  “I have won,” he said, and threw himself with a happy thrill upon the fatal scaffold.  They surrounded him, and he read the liveliest curiosity in all their faces.  Panting still from his mad rush, he asked for two words apart with the chief of the Secret committee.

The man who had pronounced judgment and who had the bearing of Jesus advanced, and there was a brief exchange of words between the two young men.  The others drew back and waited at a distance, in impressive silence, the outcome of this mysterious colloquy, which certainly would settle Rouletabille’s fate.

“Messieurs,” said the chief, “the young Frenchman is going to be allowed to leave.  We give him twenty-four hours to set Natacha Feodorovna free.  In twenty-four hours, if he has not succeeded, he will return here to give himself up.”

A happy murmur greeted these words.  The moment their chief spoke thus, they felt sure of Natacha’s fate.

The chief added: 

“As the liberation of Natacha Feodorovna will be followed, the young Frenchman says, by that of our companion Matiew, we decide that, if these two conditions are fulfilled, M. Joseph Rouletabille is allowed to return in entire security to France, which he ought never to have left.”

Two or three only of the group said, “That lad is playing with us; it is not possible.”

But the chief declared: