'Where is he--where is he ?' we all asked.
"'It is impossible he can have escaped!' I cried, my terror mastered by my anger.
"'I touched him!' exclaimed Frederic Larsan.
"'I felt his breath on my face!' cried Daddy Jacques.
"'Where is he ?'--where is he ?' we all cried.
"We raced like madmen along the two galleries; we visited doors and windows--they were closed, hermetically closed.

They had not been opened.

Besides, the opening of a door or window by this man whom we were hunting, without our having perceived it, would have been more inexplicable than his disappearance.
"Where is he ?--where is he ?--He could not have got away by a door or a window, nor by any other way.

He could not have passed through our bodies! "I confess that, for the moment, I felt 'done for.' For the gallery was perfectly lighted, and there was neither trap, nor secret door in the walls, nor any sort of hiding-place.

We moved the chairs and lifted the pictures.