Mauprat
could not suppress this cry, or help raising my head when I heard two shots fired from the tower. Marcasse's hat fell at the first shot; the second grazed his shoulder. He stopped a moment.
"Not touched!" he shouted to us.
And making a rush he was quickly across the aerial bridge. He got into the tower through the gap and darted up the stairs, crying:
"Follow me, my lads! The beam will bear."
Immediately five other bold and active men who had accompanied him got astride upon the beam, and with the help of their hands reached the other end one by one. When the first of them arrived in the garret whither Antony Mauprat had fled, he found him grappling with Marcasse, who, quite carried away by his triumph and forgetting that it was not a question of killing an enemy but of capturing him, set about lunging at him with his long rapier as if he had been a weasel. But the sham Trappist was a formidable enemy. He had snatched the sword from the sergeant's hands, hurled him to the ground, and would have strangled him had not a gendarme thrown himself on him from behind. With his prodigious strength he held his own against the first three assailants; but, with the help of the other two, they succeeded in overcoming him. When he saw that he was caught he made no further resistance and let his hands be bound together. They brought him down the stairs, which were found to lead to the bottom of a dry well in the middle of the tower. Antony was in the habit of leaving and entering by means of a ladder which the farmer's wife held for him and immediately afterwards withdrew. In a transport of delight I threw myself into my sergeant's arms.
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